Page 21 of His Relentless Angel

“Why?”

He knows why. “I was hoping…”

“Hoping for what?”

“Hoping you would finally want to touch me. I didn’t want any more material between us.” I squeeze his shoulder.

Isaiah’s eyes are hooded. “Jesus, I wanted to from the moment I laid eyes on you in that sinful red dress yesterday. I want more than just to touch you.”

“My dresses…I made them for you,” I admit. “I made the white and blue one too.”

“Fuck, I remember that dress.”

“Yeah?” My core clenches in pleasure.

“Every single day, I thought of you in that dress, looking like a wet angel sent from heaven.”

He slides his hands around my thighs to dip his thumbs between them, gently applying pressure until I widen my stance. His hands are so large that they span from one side to the other, and I wish I could capture the size difference on film.

Looking up, he says, “I hated myself for remembering you in that dress.”

“Oh.” My stomach bottoms out, and I think I’m about to cry again. I’m so sick of it and wish I could turn all my thoughts off. “I’m sorry.”

“No, no, don’t ever apologize.” Isaiah presses a kiss to my lower belly. “It was all on me for fighting what was meant to be after you turned eighteen.”

“Meant to be?” Is it possible he finally understands what I’ve known all along? “Do you truly mean that, because if you don’t…if…if you’re just saying that—”

“No, shh.” He kisses me from hip to hip. “I mean every single word, baby. Please, believe me. It was the age thing. I’ve known you for so long, and I…I couldn’t get over it. Almost wish I hadn’t met you when you were so young.”

“Isaiah,” I moan when he splays one palm over my lower belly, just above my mound. It’s the way I imagine he would hold me if I were pregnant with his child. He kisses my belly button as he slips his other hand between us to caress my inner thigh.

“Your skin is so silky smooth.” He leans back and drops his eyes to stare directly at my pussy.

I don’t shave my pubic hair—only trim it back—and I wonder if he thinks it’s gross. If he thinks it’s so unattractive, he’ll want to stop.

“Do you want me to shave?”

“Hell no.” He presses his nose to the V of my thighs and takes a jagged inhale. “You smell even better here.” He slides his hands down the length of my legs to palm my calves, silently encouraging me to step my bare feet out wider. When I do, he buries his face between my thighs and slips his warm tongue between my pussy lips, parting them, and we both moan at the contact.

“Isaiah, Isaiah, yes, love.” I keep up a steady stream of ever-increasing, louder moans when he drapes my right leg over his shoulder, spreading me even wider, and tongues my clit. “Oh love, yes, yes, oh!” The pleasure is indescribable. I never touched myself, wanting to save everything for him, and I had no idea it would feel this amazing. It’s even better than sliding over the underside of his cock on the couch.

“I need more,” he says with a gravelly voice.

I squeal and grip him tighter when he stands with my leg still over his shoulder. Gently, he lays me down in the middle of the bed with him on his belly, and the only word I can think of to describe what he does to me is devour. He devours my pussy with his tongue and nips at my clit several times. The sensation is almost too much, and I buck my hips to escape it, even as I press his head closer.

I hike my free knee up and drop it to the side on the mattress when he swirls a finger at my opening. His voice is so husky, I wish I could capture it on film as well when he says, “You saved this little pussy for me. Don’t even need to ask permission to take it, because it’s mine.” It’s not a question, but a simple fact.

“It’s yours, love. Take whatever you want. Just don’t stop touching me. Never stop touching me.”

Isaiah groans and suctions his lips around my clit as he slowly eases one finger inside me. “Jesus, you’re so tight. So wet and hot, sucking my finger deeper.” He curls his finger each time he pulls out and presses back inside me, quicker and quicker.

I have no choice but to shut my eyes and arch my back when the pressure and heat that had been building low in my core swells and snaps. I scream his name as waves of heat roll through me, my lashes fluttering at the euphoric pleasure. “Isaiah!”

“That’s it, baby. I can feel you cumming. It’s fucking delicious,” he says when he removes his finger. I open my eyes just in time to watch him suck it into his mouth.

“Oh god.” I lick my dry lips. “Can I do that to you, too?” I motion with wide eyes toward the impossibly large bulge in his white shorts when he sits up on his knees.

He shakes his head. “You’re not ready for that.”

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