Feeling unmoored from reality, I wiggle away as quietly as I can and sit up a little. The windows are shut tight, but one side of the curtain has been pulled back to reveal a pool of sunlight on the carpeted floor.
Walking into this castle yesterday felt like something out of a dream. But now, I can’t help thinking that it’s skewed with my brain a little. Sent me tumbling down a rabbit hole I can’t climb out of.
I have to remind myself of the truth: I’m not a princess living out a fantasy with a handsome prince. That’s not real.
My reality is that I’m a mother. I have a little girl out there who’s being raised by my sister because I made an impossible call to keep her safe rather than with me.
But what is my excuse now?
And what is my excuse for not telling Isaak about Jo?
We’ve slept together multiple times since I’ve been in his home. And last night, I initiated the whole thing. I was the one who leaned in. I was the one who kissed him. I was the one who rode him until I came.
I’d made all the decisions, and every single time, I’d chosen him. Last night, under the stars, our problems had felt small. Miniscule, in fact.
I was just a girl.
And he was just a boy.
No. Not a boy. That word doesn’t suit Isaak at all. There’s nothing remotely boyish about him. He’s a man in every sense of the word.
And last night, he had been mine.
But that was all just a beautiful illusion. How can two people belong to one another when there are so many secrets between them?
How can I belong to Isaak when the only reason I’m in his bed at all is because he wants to stick it to his cousin?
My head feels heavy with all the reasons why this can never work between us. And at the end of it all, the only feelings that stick out clearly are the ones I have for my daughter.
She comes first. Period. Always.
“Morning.”
I give a start of surprise as I turn to Isaak. “You’re awake.”
“I’ve been awake,” he corrects. “Watching you.”
“Oh.”
The blush hits my face instantly. He doesn’t bother pretending he doesn’t see it. He caresses my cheek. God, I wish that didn’t feel so good.
“Come here,” he says, his tone rasping into a growl.
His arms encircle me from behind and he pulls me into his body. Immediately, I feel the length of his cock between my butt cheeks.
He feels me up from behind, letting his hands roam my breasts, my curves, the heat of my center. All the while, he buries his cock between my ass and plants little kisses on my shoulder and down my arm.
There’s something different about morning sex. The way your skin feels like it’s come alive after a night of rest. The way it feels extra sensitive to every grazing touch.
I moan, and he’s not even inside me yet. The worries of a moment ago still exist. But they seem less urgent now that he’s touching me. I allow myself this one moment of reprieve. I let myself enjoy—because I know it can’t last.
The castle will dissolve into yesterday’s memory and it’ll take this tentative truce with it. We’re too different, Isaak and I. We belong to different worlds.
And maybe that’s the reason I’ve put off telling him about Jo. Because I know that if I do, it will be because I’m sure I want his world to be mine. And right now, I’m not sure. Not even close.
He teases me with his cock, rubbing his tip against my opening, pushing in just a little before pulling back out again. At one point, I back my ass into him, hoping he’ll slip inside.
But as usual, I can’t do anything unless he lets me.
As always, he’s the one in charge.
He winds me down to a quivering mess of hormones and only then does he push inside me. Slowly, with such excessive care that I feel him wholly as he sinks deep inside me.
He puts an arm under my head so that I’m resting on his curved elbow, and he fucks me slow, priming my body for the orgasm that he’s taking the time to build.
Just when my toes start to curl and my moans come faster and more desperate, he pulls out of me and turns me onto my chest.
With my head pressed to the side of my pillow, he enters me again from behind. This time, he doesn’t go gentle. He knows I’m close.
So he pounds into me, squeezing my ass as his breathing gets more and more labored. We’re almost in sync now, but he can control himself a lot better than I can. I’ve always been helpful when he owns me like this.
He waits until I come, and the moment I explode on his cock, he pulls out and flips me back over so that I’m looking up at him.
He straightens up and balances on his knees above me, his hand wrapping around his massive shaft. He pumps back and forth, while staring down at my face.
I know instinctively what he wants, and I’m surprised to realize that I want it, too. So I pull myself up and balance on my elbows, as he brings his cock to my mouth.
I suck him off a little, licking his balls and running my tongue up and down his shaft, before his body starts to convulse. I notice the tiny dot of pre-cum on his tip and I open my mouth wide and take him in just as he erupts.
I feel him slide down my throat and coat my tongue.
And when I pull back again, his cock is completely spent. I collapse back into my pillow as Isaak rolls off and sinks into the mattress beside me.
We lie there in silence, each basking in the afterglow of our own orgasms. No man has ever made me come endlessly like he has. Not that I’m about to confess that to him, ever.
He already has way more power over me than I’d like to admit.
The problem is that I suspect he already knows it. And if that’s true, then I really am screwed.
“What were you thinking about?”
I turn my head to the side and meet his blue eyes. I love how they change hues depending on the time of day, on his mood. Right now, they’re a soft, calm blue. Like the sky right after a storm.
“Just now?”
“No, before.”
“Oh. Nothing.”
“Camila.”
I shiver. When Isaak says my name that way, it gives me a little thrill I can’t explain.
“Tell me,” he presses. “I’m listening.”
I gnaw at my lower lip. “I was just… missing my sister.”
That tiny nagging voice in the back of my head is trying to convince me that telling Isaak is the right thing to do. Jo has a father. Regardless of his reputation, do I have the right to keep him from her?
“And her kids,” I add.
I cringe a little on the inside when I say the words that omit Jo from the equation entirely. I’m just so scared. I’ve kept her a secret for so long that it feels wrong to talk about her now.
“Did you get to see them much in the last six years?”
“A few times,” I admit. “But that was only because Eric arranged it.”
“The agent?”
“Former agent,” I correct. “The agency replaced him.”
“Right.”
“Andrew was assigned to my case about a year and a half ago, and… he wasn’t so interested in going that extra mile for me.”
“So you haven’t seen your sister and her family in a year and a half?”
“Yeah. It’s been torture.”