Page 55 of Resisting Isaac

Not when he shoves my soaked dress over my head and cups my breasts, thumbing the tight peaks through the lace of my bra. Not when he yanks the cup down to take my sensitive flesh into his mouth.

Definitely not when he bends down, throwing my legs over his shoulders and plunges his tongue inside like he’s been dying to taste me again.

Not when I finally feel howdesperatehe is for me.

Not when he holds my panties to the side and sinks his cock into me like he belongs there.

Because hedoes.

We don’t talk.

We can’t.

There’s only the slick sound of skin against skin, the creak of leather straps behind us, the smell of horses and hay and sex.

He buries his face in my neck, groaning my name like a prayer as I unravel around him.

And when we both fall over the edge, clinging to each other like the world might end the second we let go, it hits me.

We broke the rules on purpose this time.

“I didn’t realize how badly I needed that,” I admit, still trying to catch my breath.

He grins, still holding me close. “Baby, I have rope, reins, and riding crops at my disposal all day long. Wherever or whenever you need me to please that greedy little pussy, you just say the word.”

I blush and press my face against his chest. “You’re a mess.”

He drags a finger through my slick center. “Says the woman still soaked from coming all over me.”

“This is crazy,” I murmur into his neck.

He leans backward, resting his forehead against mine. “You make me crazy. Every single second since we met.” With that, he kisses me so deeply it’s like I’m lit from within.

My entire life, I’ve carried an all-consuming darkness inside me. The stress of having nothing, of working for every single scrap, of trying to keep my family afloat while never managing to be good enough for them.

The doom cloud of everything I wasn’t shrouding every accomplishment.

But when Isaac Logan touches me, I feel like I’m made up entirely of sparkly stars.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

isaac

The storm’s moved on.

Outside the tack room, the rain softens to a lazy drizzle, tapping against the tin roof like a lullaby. But in here, everything’s still. Quiet. Steady.

She’s curled into me, cheek against my chest, her breath warm where it hits my skin. My heart pounds a little harder than usual, but not from the sex—though, yeah, that was unreal.

It’s her.

The way she melts into me like she belongs here. Like this isn’t a temporary stop on her way back to whatever world she came from.

My fingers trace slow circles along her bare spine, not to start anything more—but because I don’t want to let go. Not yet.

“You okay?” I ask, voice rough from all the things I haven’t said.

She nods but doesn’t lift her head. “More than okay.”