A few days later, I bought the plane tickets, first class. Ysabelle was insistent on that, she said something about hating to fly, and sitting too close to a person she didn’t know gave her anxiety. I didn’t care if I had to rent a fucking private plane if that’s what it took to get her to go with me. Three weeks later and we left the next morning. I rented us a suite on South Beach for a week; it would give us time to get everything in order without having to rush. Luke, Ysabelle’s GM, was going to be watching the bar and Chance while we were gone. It was the first time she would be leaving the bar for that extended amount of time, but I knew that wasn’t what was bothering her.

I could tell she had reservations, but didn’t express them to me. I didn’t push her for any information; she was coming back with me and I knew that was huge for her. Not to take into account everything else that went along with it, I couldn’t fault her for being overwhelmed; it was a lot. And as much as I wanted her to open up to me and tell me everything she was feeling, and that we would work it out together, I knew that would only add fuel to her already lit fire. She was coming back with me and that was good enough for me.

For now.

“You almost done packing?” I asked, walking into the bedroom.

Her luggage was on the floor and she had piles of clothes scattered on the bed; she had been packing all morning. Let me rephrase that…she would pack, and then unpack, and then start all over again. The nervousness she displayed was adorable.

“I’m getting there,” she sighed. “I left all my stuff at my condo when I left Miami and the stuff I own now is not…Miami…” she reasoned.

I held back the laughter that was at bay and sat on the armchair. “Ysa, you look fucking amazing in anything. Although I prefer you in nothing.” I smirked, getting her to glance up and smile.

There’s my girl.

“Do you want me to help?” I suggested.

“No, I’m almost done. I think…”

“No…I think I can help.”

I gripped her wrist, bringing her over to me and she giggled. She straddled my lap with her ass on my cock, facing away from me.

“I actually love what you’re wearing right now,” I huskily praised while my hands moved from her hips to the sides of her body, up to her breasts. I slowly touched them and she curved her back.

Vixen.

“You know what the color white does to me. Do you do it on purpose?”

She sucked in air when one of my hands moved to the back of her neck and I nudged her backward, making her hips sway on my cock.

“Why do you provoke me?”

She deviously gazed into my eyes. “Because I can,” she snickered and I immediately jerked her head back by her hair.

“You know I like it rough, Mr. Vanwell,” she added, baiting me.

“Oh…it’s Mr. Vanwell is it?” I murmured, inclining her head back further. Her body was stretched out for me; she felt tinier in that angle. I could do anything I wanted to her and she would let me, begging me to keep going. That’s just the kind of woman she was.

Mine.

My hold on her hair grew harder and she whimpered, not in pain. In submission. I slowly inched her head back further until her breasts were upright and her eyes beheld the ceiling. I could see every rib protruding as her back was perfectly extended in the shape of a U.

“I’ll ask you again…why do you provoke me, Ysa?”

She didn’t hesitate. “Because I’m yours.”

“Prove it.”

She didn’t move or make a sound while I used my other hand to untie the strings of her bathing suit top and bottom; they fell to the side. My nails dug into her soft, delicate skin from her neck all the way down her incredible body. They left a trail of red, almost like a rake had been taken to her skin. Nothing. No sound. No movement.

Her pussy was bare for me and I could see her throbbing clit.

I placed my lips right by her ear. “I’m not going to touch you,” I whispered. “I know you want me to. I can see your greedy cunt just begging to be played with.”

Her breathing hitched.

“Tell me what you want,” I added, tugging her hair back slightly to get her to speak.

“I want to come,” she panted.

“Show me.”

She hesitated.

“Now,” I urged.

Her fingers found her pussy and she started touching herself. I licked my lips and sucked on her earlobe.

“Harder,” I demanded.

She stimulated herself at a quicker pace, monopolizing the little bundle of nerves until her body started to tremble. I bent her back further and my other hand reached for the front her neck. She withered and moaned.

I caressed her neck and then lightly squeezed; her breathing slowed, but her body was quivering. She was close. I gripped a little more until I could feel her pulsating vein beating rapidly, her body burned and her face reddened.

“That’s it…fuck that tight, wet, perfect pussy that I can’t get enough of. Do it. Let me see you come apart like you know I love.” I clutched until I knew she couldn’t take one more breath and then held her there for a few seconds. When her eyes watered, I immediately let go of her neck and simultaneously tugged her hair further back. She gasped for air and came apart on my legs with such force that her entire body shook and she screamed out my name.

My girl.