Page 69 of My Horrible Arranged Marriage (Bancroft Billionaire Brothers #20)

MINA

H e leaned over and kissed my cheek. “I’ll order food,” he said.

I watched him scroll through his phone, a comfortable silence settling between us.

Being back in his penthouse felt surreal after the sun-drenched tranquility of Jamaica.

The trip had been a whirlwind of emotion, a desperate gamble that had somehow, miraculously, paid off.

We’d stripped away the pretense, the hurt, the misunderstandings, and found the raw, honest core of what we meant to each other.

We loved each other. I had zero doubts about his feelings for me.

I trusted him. It would be easy to dwell on what happened.

It would be easier to live in doubt and distrust to protect my feelings.

But nope. I wanted the man. I was going to be vulnerable and wear my heart on my sleeve.

If he screwed me over, Tori was going to get the chance to try out one of those things she saw on TV.

“What are you thinking?” Isaac asked, his voice soft.

I smiled. “Just how different everything feels. How different we feel.”

He ordered our usual pizza, and while we waited, we talked, not about the past, but about the future. We talked baby names, nursery colors, and the kind of parents we wanted to be. It was easy, natural, the way it should have been all along.

When the pizza arrived, we ate on the couch, still talking about the baby. We were both so ready to move forward. I never wanted to talk about what happened before. It was over. It happened. We were moving on.

He set his plate on the coffee table and turned to me, his eyes dark with an emotion I recognized, an emotion I craved. We’d had sex enough times that I knew that look in his eyes.

We had been apart for two weeks and it felt like we’d been stranded at sea for years without each other. Neither of us could get enough of one another.

“Come here,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down my spine.

I didn’t hesitate. I shifted closer, into the circle of his arms, my head finding its familiar place on his chest. His hand came up to cup the back of my head, fingers tangling gently in my hair.

“I missed this,” I whispered, my voice muffled against his shirt. “Just this. Being close to you.”

He didn’t say anything, just tightened his hold, his lips pressing a soft kiss to my temple. His hand slid down my back, his touch sending sparks across my skin. I tilted my head back, my gaze locking with his.

He leaned down, his mouth capturing mine in a kiss that was slow and deep. I melted into him, my hands finding their way to his hair, my fingers gripping tightly. The kiss deepened, becoming more urgent, more demanding.

I pulled back and slid off the couch and to my knees in front of him.

“Are you tired?” he asked.

I slowly shook my head as my fingers worked to undo the button of his shorts. “Suddenly I’m wide awake.”

“If you’re?—”

I stopped him from finishing his sentence when my hand reached under the waistband of his underwear and pulled out his cock. It grew in my hand, thickening and hardening. I looked up to see him watching me.

“Do I like sleepy?” I asked in a sultry voice.

He let out a shaky breath, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment. A low groan rumbled in his chest when I leaned forward, taking him into my mouth. His fingers immediately tangled in my hair, not pulling, just holding, anchoring himself as I began to move.

I savored the taste of him, the familiar, intimate scent that was uniquely Isaac.

My tongue swirled around the head of his cock, eliciting another groan, this one deeper, rougher.

I loved this, loved the way I could make him lose control, the way his body responded to my touch.

It was a power I wielded with care, a dance of pleasure we both reveled in.

His hips bucked slightly, an involuntary movement that told me I was doing exactly the right thing. I increased my pace, my lips and tongue working in tandem, teasing and stroking, drawing him deeper. I could feel his pulse quickening beneath my fingertips where they rested on his thighs.

“Mina,” he gasped, his voice strained. His hand tightened in my hair, a silent plea for more, for everything.

I loved hearing my name on his lips like that, a desperate prayer. I glanced up at him through my lashes, saw the desire etched on his face, the way his jaw was clenched, his eyes dark and stormy. It fueled me, spurred me on.

I wanted to bring him to the edge, to hold him there, suspended in that exquisite moment of anticipation before release. I wanted him groaning and thrashing with pleasure like he did to me so many times.

I moved lower, taking all of him, my throat muscles working to accommodate his length.

He tasted of salt and pure, undiluted need.

His hands moved from my hair to my shoulders, gripping me, his knuckles white.

I could feel the tremors starting in his thighs, the way his breath hitched with every pass of my mouth.

“God, Mina… fuck,” he choked out, his head falling back against the couch cushions.

I knew he was close. I could feel it in the way his body tensed, in the rapid pulse I could feel against my lips. I focused my attention on the sensitive underside, my tongue flicking, teasing, until he arched up, a guttural sound tearing from his throat.

His release was explosive, hot and heavy on my tongue. I held him, swallowing, until the last tremor had passed, until his breathing began to even out.

Slowly, I pulled away and looked up at him. His eyes were still closed, his chest rising and falling rapidly. A sheen of sweat covered his forehead, and his lips were slightly parted. He looked utterly undone, completely mine.

He opened his eyes, blinking slowly, his gaze finding mine. There was a vulnerability there, a raw emotion that made my heart ache. I knew then he was taking the same chance on me. We were both leaping into this thing together.

“Shit, Mina,” he breathed, his voice hoarse. He reached out, his fingers gently tracing my jawline. “You’re incredible.”

I smiled, a slow, satisfied smile. “Ready for bed?” I asked.

He chuckled, a low, rough sound, and pulled me up, settling me onto his lap. I straddled him, my legs wrapping around his waist, and buried my face in his neck, inhaling his scent.

His arms tightened around me, and he stood, lifting me as if I weighed nothing. My legs were still wrapped around his waist, my arms around his neck. I pressed kisses along his jaw as he carried me through the penthouse, toward the bedroom.

“It won’t be long until you can’t do this,” I teased.

He chuckled. “I’ll just hit the gym and make sure I can always do this.”

He laid me gently on the cool sheets of his bed. He didn’t break eye contact as he moved over me, his hands bracing on either side of my head. The look in his eyes was intense, a burning fire that mirrored the one he’d ignited within me.

“I’ve dreamt of this,” he rasped, his voice thick with emotion. “Every night since I thought I’d lost you.”

“I’m here,” I whispered, my fingers tracing the strong line of his collarbone. “I’m not going anywhere.”

His mouth found mine again, and this time, there was no holding back. It was a kiss of possession, of desperation, of a hunger that had been starved for too long. His tongue tangled with mine. I arched into him, needing to feel every inch of him pressed against me.

It only took him a few seconds to strip me before he finished undressing himself.

I didn’t think I would ever get tired of seeing him naked.

I wondered what he would look like in twenty years.

Probably still all hard muscles with a little gray.

If we had as many kids as we both wanted, I was going to be… less hard. I’d be rounder and softer.

That thought was quickly dashed when his hand drifted lower, skimming over the sensitive skin of my inner thigh. I gasped, my hips instinctively lifting with need for him.

“You’re so responsive,” he murmured against my lips, his breath hot and intoxicating. “Always are. Like you were made for me.”

“Only for you,” I breathed, the words a vow.

He shifted, his knee parting my legs. I opened for him willingly, eagerly.

His fingers found my core, already damp and aching for him.

He stroked me gently at first, then with more pressure, his touch sure and knowing my body so well.

The pad of his thumb ran over my clit, sending shivers of pleasure through me.

I bit my lip to stifle a moan, my fingers digging into his shoulders.

“Tell me what you want, Mina,” he whispered, his gaze locked on mine.

“You,” I gasped. “I need you, Isaac. Now.”

A slow, predatory smile spread across his lips. “Good.”

He positioned himself between my legs, his thick cock pressing against my entrance, hot and hard.

I reached down, guiding him. The contact was electric.

He pushed into me slowly, filling me and stretching me.

I let out a long, shuddering breath as he settled deep inside.

We both stilled for a moment, savoring the feeling of being joined, of being one.

“God, this feels…” he started, his voice strained.

“Perfect,” I finished for him, my eyes fluttering closed as I absorbed being consumed by him and vice versa.

Then he began to move, a slow rhythm that built with agonizing sweetness. Each thrust was a caress across my clit. My hands roamed his back, his shoulders, clinging to him as he took me higher. He kissed me deeply, his tongue mimicking the rhythm of his hips. I was lost, completely and utterly.

The pleasure built, coiling tighter and tighter in my belly, until I was breathless, trembling on the verge of a violent climax. I cried out his name, my voice a raw, broken sound, as he drove me toward the precipice.

“Look at me, Mina,” he commanded, his voice hoarse.

I forced my eyes open, locking onto his. The intensity I saw there was like a live wire. I felt the love and the sheer adoration. He thrust deeper and harder. The world shattered around me. A cry tore from my throat as wave after wave of ecstasy washed over me, my body convulsing around him.

He followed me a moment later, his own release a guttural groan against my neck.

His body collapsed onto mine. We lay there, tangled together, slick with sweat, our breathing harsh and ragged in the quiet room.

I held him tightly, not wanting the moment to end, wanting to stay suspended in this bubble of perfect intimacy forever.

He shifted his body off of mine and pressed a soft kiss to my forehead, then another to my temple.

“I love you,” he whispered, his voice still thick with the afterglow of our lovemaking.

“I love you too,” I murmured, my voice equally shaky. I snuggled closer, feeling an overwhelming sense of peace settle over me. Peace and absolute exhaustion.

I fell asleep with a smile on my face.