Page 59 of His Relentless Angel

If this was real, there’s no way we would have been able to get away with it. Isaiah can’t stop grunting and cursing and moaning my name as he fucks the tip in and out of my ass until he shouts my name one final time and cums inside me. I squeal with each spurt of warm cum, which feels so different than when he cums in my pussy.

And because I’m made for him, my body stretches to fit more of his length, eased by his slick release. I slip my hand under me to play roughly with my clit and bounce my ass on his still-twitching cock to take him deeper. I bring myself to another orgasm, making him shout when my body convulses and tightens around him.

When we’re done, panting hard while we each try to catch our breaths, we stare at each other in the mirror. I blink fast, processing everything that just happened and the resultant heady euphoria. But then my heart starts racing again just when I think it’s settled. And I can’t stop it. Can’t stop the barrage of internal panic or the creeping haze.

“Bailey?” Isaiah’s brows crash together, and he lifts off of me to scoop me up one-handed. He drags me to the bathtub, plugs it, and turns the faucet on. Into the bath we go with me curled sideways on his lap. It’s a tiny, standard tub, so we hardly fit comfortably, but Isaiah doesn’t seem to care about having to bend his knees up, one leg hanging over the edge.

He cups my cheek, tips my head back, and presses his lips to mine. “I see it. I see you,” he says when he pulls back, combing my hair behind my ear. “You’re ok, I’m ok. We didn’t do anything wrong.”

The rising warm water urges me to calm down just as much as he does. “But I coerced you into it.”

“No, you didn’t. You didn’t coerce me or make me do or say anything I didn’t want to. You’re not evil or any of the other awful things I know you’re thinking about. You’re sweet and good and everything wonderful. I see that. What’s really inside you. I love you. All parts of you.”

“But—”

“Baby, listen to me.” He grips my jaw so I can’t escape his intense gaze. “We are two consenting adults who enjoy playing together.”

My lashes flutter as his words sink in as intended. “You enjoy it? You’re not lying to make me feel better?”

Isaiah reaches past me to turn off the faucet when the water level is almost high enough to spill over onto the floor. He leans back and readjusts me in his hold so that I’m lying against his chest with my head on his shoulder.

“If you want the full truth, here it is: I didn’t want to enjoy it. I thought there was something wrong with me after I got hard when you wanted to recreate your eighteenth birthday.” I open my mouth to apologize, and he shushes me. “I’ve been reading up on it—the age play kink. After what happened at the hotel.” He gives me a look that says don’t you dare apologize. “And the more I read, the better I felt, knowing that just because I get hard for you when we get kinky—specifically you and me as adults—it doesn’t mean that I’m actually attracted to anyone I shouldn’t be. Do you know what I mean?”

I nod. “And the whole ‘Papi’ thing…I don’t see you as a…a father figure. I don’t expect or want you to act like my dad or anything.” I think I get a little green in the face after bringing up the image of my dad in my mind, and I have to push it away quickly.

He chuckles. “I know. It’s just play. And I think I’ve come to terms with it.”

“Because you were made for me, just as I am for you?”

He cups my chin and kisses me, our tongues sliding against each other’s slowly. It’s his silent agreement. And with that, my racing heart eases. Though the haze is there, in the back of my mind as it always is, I don’t feel the urge to isolate and cry.

In bed, after we’ve cleaned up and Isaiah is cuddling me close, facing each other, he says, “There’s something else we need to discuss if we’re going to continue playing.” He goes very still, and I tip my head back to show him he has my full attention. “I have a hard limit. Something that I absolutely will not do or accept.”

“Ok.”

“Regarding the age aspect, I will not act out anything where you pretend to be even younger. I know you’ve had a crush on me since you were thirteen, but…”

I pet his cheek. “No, no, I get it, and I can respect your limit. I think…I think it would weird me out too much anyway. When I was younger, the only thing I thought about was hugging and maybe kissing a little.”

The corners of his mouth turn down.

“Like a peck on the cheeks and lips,” I amend. “But I never had…really inappropriate thoughts about us being together in a sexual way until I was older. So, yes, I think we have the same limit.”

“Made for me,” he whispers, giving me a soft kiss that makes me smile. “Is there anything that’s a hard no for you?”

That question has an easy answer. “Degradation,” I say softly. “I’ve read and liked a lot of romances with that kink, but in the real world…I can handle terms like ‘bad girl’, spankings, and hair pulling—getting rough, I guess—but name calling and all the rest…it’s too much for me. ”

“I figured, and that’s not something I’m into either.” He pauses and kisses me again. “I really am sorry for calling you ‘evil’. I was projecting, I think, because of how upset I was with myself initially for my body’s reaction to you. But I never, not once, thought you were actually evil.”

It’s another balm to my heart and soul.

That’s how the rest of the night goes, finally falling back to sleep just as the sun rises. I know we’ll have plenty more discussions in the future, especially if our limits change over time, but for now…to put some ground rules in place and get on the same page, it confirms what we already know—we really were made for each other.

Chapter 23

Isaiah

The OBGYN looks at Bailey as if she’s just confessed to smoking meth instead of taking the antidepressant her psychiatrist prescribed that’s safe to take while pregnant. Bailey’s biggest fear thus far has been how her medication will affect our baby. The OBGYN’s abhorrent reaction is the last thing she needs, not when she’s doing what’s best for herself and our child.

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