Page 62 of My Horrible Arranged Marriage (Bancroft Billionaire Brothers #20)

ISAAC

I hadn’t really slept since the night before the wedding.

Even that night I hadn’t slept all that well.

I had been too excited to sleep. Like a kid waiting to find out what Santa brought on Christmas morning.

If I had known then that my life was going to turn into the seventh circle of hell, I would have taken a sleeping pill.

The last week I had barely been able to get more than a few hours here and there.

I was haunted by things I should’ve said, things I shouldn’t have done, things I might never get the chance to fix.

Now, I was restless because I couldn’t stop replaying the meeting with Mina.

But it was a good restless. It was a lot like the night before the wedding.

I had a chance. And there was no way in hell I was going to squander the opportunity to win her back. I would get back into her good graces. By the time our baby was born, Mina would love me again. Not that she stopped loving me but there had been a hiccup.

I was going to show her I was the man for her. I had to prove to her I was the man she fell in love with. That I was going to be a good father. And husband.

I wasn’t going to push things, though. I’d let her come to that in her own time, but she was mine. Period. End of story.

I closed my eyes, letting the feel of my satin sheets and the pillowy mattress pull me into total relaxation.

My body relaxed. Muscle by muscle until I felt like a blob.

My brain was slowing with a kaleidoscope of images of Mina flashing through it.

I felt a smile on my lips when an image of her lying beneath me completely ravaged stayed in focus.

Her lips were plump and there was a satisfied smile on her face.

Her hair fanned out around her on the pillow.

I slipped right into the dream that was loosely based on a memory.

Her eyes were heavy with desire as they locked onto mine.

I leaned down to taste her lips again, savoring their sweetness as she sighed into my mouth.

My hands traced the contours of her body.

I knew every dip. Every spot that made her suck in a breath.

I knew where she liked my lips to be soft and my teeth to nip.

“Isaac,” she whispered my name. It sent shivers running over my body.

I trailed kisses down her neck, lingering at the spot just below her ear that always made her squirm. Her fingers tangled in my hair, tugging just hard enough to send shivers down my spine.

“I need you,” she breathed, arching against me. “Now.”

I took my time, worshipping every inch of her body, drawing out each moment. Her nails raked down my back as I moved lower, tasting the salt of her skin.

Her flesh was hot beneath my lips, a testament to the fire I was stoking within her.

I moved to the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, kissing my way upward, feeling the tremor that ran through her.

Her breath hitched, a delightful sound that spurred me on.

My fingers brushed against the damp heat between her legs.

She gasped, her hips lifting off the bed, seeking more.

She pleaded with me, her voice thick with need. I loved hearing her beg. Loved knowing I was the one who could unravel her so completely.

I teased her, my thumb stroking gently, feeling her pulse quicken under my touch. Her head thrashed on the pillow, her dark hair a wild storm around her.

I lifted my head to look at her, to see the desire etched on her beautiful face.

Her hazel eyes were dark, pupils dilated, fixed on me with an intensity that said she wanted me as much as I wanted her.

A faint sheen of perspiration covered her skin, making her glow in the soft light from the hundreds of candles around the room.

“You’re so beautiful,” I rasped, my voice hoarse.

She whimpered, a soft, desperate sound. “Don’t stop.”

I wouldn’t. I couldn’t. Not until she was screaming my name. Even then, I was going to take her over and over. I felt like I was starving. I needed her more than air.

My tongue replaced my fingers. She cried out, a sharp, broken sound followed by her body arching violently. Her hands fisted in the sheets, her knuckles white. I held her hips, anchoring her as I drove her closer to the edge. Every twitch, every moan, every shuddering breath was a victory.

I knew this rhythm, this dance. I knew the exact pressure, the precise flick of my tongue that would send her spiraling. She was close, so close. Her breathing was shallow, rapid. Her legs trembled.

I intensified my efforts, pushing her, taking her, until finally, she shattered. Her body convulsed around me, a series of exquisite spasms that sent jolts of pleasure through me just watching her, feeling her release. Her cries were muffled against the pillow she pulled over her face.

I held her, gentling my touch as the aftershocks subsided. Her body went limp, pliant beneath me. Her breathing slowly evened out as I kissed over her stomach and up to her breasts. I sucked one nipple into my mouth. She groaned even louder.

I moved up, propping myself on my elbows to look down at her. Her eyes were closed, a soft smile gracing her lips. She looked utterly undone, completely mine.

“Open your eyes, Mina,” I whispered.

Slowly, her eyelids fluttered open. The heavy-lidded look of sated desire was still there, but now there was a softness, a tenderness that made my own heart ache with a fierce, protective love.

She reached up, her fingers tracing the line of my jaw. “You always know,” she murmured, her voice still husky.

“I know you,” I said, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her lips. “Every part of you.”

When I finally pushed into her, the sensation was so overwhelming I had to pause, fighting for control.

Her legs wrapped around my waist, pulling me deeper, urging me on.

We moved together in perfect rhythm, like we’d been made for each other.

Not like—I knew we had been. Her body was perfect for me and me alone.

I watched her face as pleasure overtook her, her lips parted, eyes closed, the most beautiful sight I’d ever seen.

I moved inside her slow and purposeful. I didn’t need to slam into her body.

I liked when I could take my time and draw out the pleasure.

Unfortunately, just like it always was with her, I couldn’t last as long as I wanted to.

I burned for her. When she cried out my name, I followed her over the edge, collapsing against her as waves of ecstasy washed over us both.

“I love you,” I murmured against her neck, holding her close. “Always have, always will.”

She smiled up at me, tracing my jawline with her fingertip. “I love you.”

I jolted awake, heart pounding, sheets tangled around my legs. The dream had felt so real I could almost smell her perfume lingering in the air. I glanced at the clock and saw it was just after four. I tried to calm my racing pulse.

“Shit,” I muttered, scrubbing a hand over my face.

My body was half-hard, heart racing, skin burning like I’d actually touched her.

I hadn’t had a dream like that in months. Maybe longer. No woman got me that fired up. Only Mina could do that.

I sat up, resting my elbows on my knees, trying to catch my breath and slow the chaos in my head. I could still feel her lips on mine. Still hear her say my name. Still smell her shampoo.

God, I missed her.

I leaned back against the headboard and stared at the ceiling for a while, unwilling to leave the silence just yet.

I hadn’t felt close to her in a week. Not like that.

And even if it was just a trick of the subconscious, I wasn’t ready to let it go.

If there was any way I could fall right back into that wet dream, I would do it.

But I knew it was done. I was going to be left wanting her and not being able to have her.

Yet.

I had to find a way to get her back in my bed.

I threw off the blankets and walked into the bathroom.

I was tempted to handle business myself but opted against it.

I was going to save this for her. When I finally got her under me, I was going to lose myself in her.

I wanted her to feel how badly I missed her.

I got in the shower, nice and cold, and washed from head to toe. I was a little embarrassed to admit it was probably the first thorough shower I had since the disaster. I stepped out and took the time to shave. I felt like a new man.

And then I heard a noise.

“What the fuck?” I murmured.

Someone was in the penthouse. My first thought was Mina. Had she come back? I headed into the kitchen and was only a little disappointed to see Kent.

He leaned against the counter like he lived there, sipping my coffee and scrolling through something on his phone like this was his Tuesday morning routine.

He looked up, smirked, and gestured toward me with the mug. “Mornin’, Sleeping Beauty.”

“You let yourself in again ?” I asked, voice gravelly. “You really need a hobby.”

“I have a hobby. It’s watching your life implode in real time.” He sipped. “Also, this espresso machine’s wasted on you.”

I ran a hand through my hair. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why are you here this early?” I asked. I looked him up and down. He wasn’t wearing going-out clothes, which meant he wasn’t doing a walk of shame via my place. Nope. He was wearing sweats and tennis shoes.

“You went to the gym already?” I asked.

“Nope. But we’re going.”

“No, we aren’t,” I said.

“You’ve been moping around for weeks, drinking overpriced scotch, and eating whatever garbage you have delivered. You’re gonna get soft.”

“I’m not getting soft.”

“Your abs say otherwise.”

I rolled my eyes and took a long sip of coffee. “You’re breaking into my penthouse to shame me into working out?”

“Someone has to. Besides, you need to hit something.”

I raised a brow. “You volunteering?”

“Tempting,” Kent said with a grin. “But I was thinking more like the heavy bag.”

I sighed and leaned against the counter. Truth was, I did need to move. I felt like a coiled spring with too much tension and nowhere to put it. And if I stayed here any longer, I was going to lose my mind rewatching that damn dream in my head.

“Fine,” I muttered. “Give me five minutes.”