Page 7 of His Relentless Angel

I don’t want to disturb the waves he’s styled his tight curls into above the fade, so I palm the back of his neck, encouraging him to do it again as I tip my head more to the side. He breathes hard against my jaw before he does it again, then again, and I turn my head before he can kiss me a fourth time so that his lips find mine.

My first kiss. The most perfect kiss to ever exist and exactly what I wished for. I manifested my dreams. He sucks in a sharp breath and flexes his fingertips, gripping me tighter.

“Isaiah,” I moan, arching my back to press my breasts against his chest.

“Fuck, baby,” he whispers huskily, then slants his lips over mine, and I get my first taste of him when he slips his tongue in my mouth. I have no idea what I should do with my tongue, but he doesn’t seem to mind as he takes full control just like I want him to, pushing me flat against the door. He slides his hand up to cup my jaw and tip my head further to deepen the kiss.

I rock my lower body against him, hoping he’ll do the same, but he jerks his hips back. He straightens after one more soft kiss and slides his hands to mine to pull them away from his shoulders. Heat blooms in my core when he leads me to his bedroom. Maybe I’ll get the other half of my birthday wish, wherein he lays me down and whispers how much he loves me as we make love.

But then he pulls two clean shirts and a pair of sweatpants from his dresser and thrusts one of the new shirts toward me. “Goodnight, Bailey.” He leaves the bedroom without a backward glance, even locking the door from the inside before he closes it. Of course, I can unlock it if I want to since it’s not locked from the outside, but I get his meaning—do not follow him out into the living room.

I shuck my wet T-shirt and hang it to dry with the rest of my clothes. I wash my face at the sink before pulling on the dry T-shirt—another quote from a different book series—and climb into the middle of Isaiah’s bed after wrapping his used towel around my hair. I snuggle under the warm comforter and watch the bedroom door knob for any signs of him picking the lock and stepping in, hoping he’s changed his mind after realizing he can’t sleep another night without me.

My eyelids grow heavy with each passing minute until sleep pulls me under, silent tears slipping down my temples to wet his pillow.

* * *

A car alarm goes off nearby, and I jerk awake, disoriented to find myself in a strange bed. And then I smell it—smell him—in the bedsheets, and the memory of Isaiah’s kisses soothes my nerves. It’s still dark outside, and my first instinct is to roll over and go back to sleep. That incessant car alarm is still going off, though, and I realize suddenly that it might be mine, waking the entire complex.

Thankfully, the storm has passed, but I can’t see my car from Isaiah’s bedroom window. I tiptoe toward the closed door to unlock it, a tremor to my hands. Isaiah is flat on his back, asleep on the chaise section of the couch, and I have to lean over him to peek through the window blinds. Both my car and his are dark and silent.

I jolt when a warm hand lightly grips the back of my left thigh, and I dart my gaze down to the man I love. He runs his hand up under my shirt to palm my bare ass since I’m not wearing my panties. To feel his hand on such an intimate part of me for the first time leaves me breathless and greedy for more. I’ll treasure the memory of this moment for the rest of my life.

Inching closer when he applies pressure, I moan his name, shivering when he lightly squeezes my ass and sucks in a breath.

Isaiah’s lashes flutter in the moonlight. “B.” He says it in the barest hint of a whisper, then louder. “Bailey, baby.” He moans and draws me closer. Hearing him say my name like that when he’s usually yelling at me to leave him alone and to give up on him is euphoric. “Come here.” Isaiah pats his lap.

Limbs unsteady, I climb on top of him, straddling his hips. His dick is hard beneath my ass, and as soon as I settle my full weight on top of him, Isaiah grips my waist under my shirt and bucks his hips up, grinding against my core. I lean forward with my hands on his chest after I slip them under his T-shirt, my eyes rolling back with pleasure. The feel of his bare skin is just as wonderful as I imagined, and my belly swoops.

“Fuck, baby. Ride me.”

My brows pinch because I expected him to kiss me or something before we got to this point, but I do as he says. He yanks my waist, and I lower my chest toward his. I love how he’s built, so big and strong, and I curl my fingertips into his firm pecs. The only thing I wish is that he had taken his shirt off before going to sleep. I want to see him as much as I want to feel him.

His lashes continue to flutter as I move with his hands as he rocks me back and forth over his bulge. I moan and widen my knees, then gasp when he grinds up harder against my pussy.

“Fuck yeah.” Isaiah shoves a hand between us, and I lift off his lap a few inches when he nudges me, allowing him room to push the waistband of his sweatpants down. It’s too dark in here to see his cock, but god can I feel it when he grips my hips and pulls my ass back down hard.

I wiggle over the underside of his shaft with his cock trapped between us. I don’t do anything but brace myself and try to follow his rhythm, his shaft nestled between my lower lips as I grow wetter between my thighs.

“Just like that, baby. You feel so good riding my dick.”

His praise makes me wetter. “Isaiah, oh god,” I whisper-moan when I arch my back, and the bare tip of him brushes my clit. I’ve never felt anything so magical in all my life than when a spark of electricity lights me up from the inside out with each brush. “Oh god, I love you so much.”

Isaiah growls, jerks me forward more forcefully, and shudders. His cock swells larger, and suddenly, there’s a large pool of warmth between us. He sighs with contentment and taps my thigh, and then…that’s it. He doesn’t rock me on his lap again or caress my skin lovingly. He doesn’t pull me down to kiss him or moan my name.

“I-Isaiah?” I press a light kiss to his lips, hoping he’ll kiss me back.

He turns his head away. “Hmm?”

“Are you…are we done?”

“Mmhmm. Thank you, baby.” He taps my thigh again, and I get the hint. I climb off him, standing on numb, messy legs. He immediately rolls over onto his side, facing away from me and readjusting his sweatpants.

“Isaiah?” This is nothing at all what I expected when I dreamed about the things we would do once he allowed us to be together. I want to talk to him about it. Ask why he didn’t kiss me. I tap on his shoulder and say his name again.

“‘Night.”

Taking that hint as well, I leave his side and stumble into the bathroom. Flipping on the light, I lift my shirt with wide eyes, finding a sticky, milky substance coating my inner thighs and wetting my pubic hair. Cum. Isaiah’s cum is on my skin, and I love it. I wish he had done it inside of me so we could get started on our family, but there’s plenty of time for that later. Having a baby while in college will be tough, but if Shayla can do it, so can I. I’m sure Isaiah will be an amazing, hands-on father like James and our dads.

---