Page 71 of Reclaiming Izabel

Six WeeksLater

Izabel

The front doorslammed and jolted me from what I was working on.

“Iza?”

I quickly closed the file I had open on my computer and stood, excited to see my husband after he’d been gone for two days, while also trying to control the sneaky grin that wanted to form on my lips.

“Baby?”

I hurried to meet him, but Drake had already darkened the entrance of my office at the estate home we continued to rent.

The impatience on my husband’s face quickly softened into an expression of sheer pleasure at the sight of me.

My heart stuttered. I’d missed him.

Drake swept me into his arms and planted a deep, crushing kiss against my mouth. He quickly pulled away with a wry smile on his face. “I must say, wife, I’m quite disappointed that you weren’t rushing to meet me at the door, seeing as I’ve been gone for two days.”

“I was in the middle of something…”

“Was it more important than saying hello to your husband?” he growled. His eyes tracked down my body as if assessing what I was wearing. A kimono robe covered my camisole and sleep shorts, showing a lot of leg.

My mouth twitched. “I take the fifth.”

“You’re going to pay for that.” He spun me around. My laughter caught at the stinging slap on my ass.

“Ow!” I yelped even as a throb started low in my belly, but it was the smolder in his gaze that made my pussy clench.

I tried to hold him off, but he backed me into the room. A mixture of coyness and excitement dared me to tease the simmering mountain of potent male in front of me. “Drake…now, is that a way to say hello…?”

The corner of his mouth hitched up. “I’ll teach you how to say hello, wife.”

He lunged, and I sidestepped, his fingers catching the robe that ripped from my body. I squealed with laughter. A hard fuck was in my future, and I did the only thing I shouldn’t have done.

Ran.

I dashed around him, out of the office and up the staircase, consciously aware that Drake was following me in swift stalking strides.

“Not a good idea to run, baby,” he called.

What was I doing?

By the time I reached our bedroom, I was breathless, not from running away from Drake, but from the intense electric ball of anticipation that charged through my body.

Footsteps sounded behind me.

Drake had removed his shirt and I couldn’t help marveling at the chiseled muscles rippling beneath his skin as he unbuckled his belt, all the while holding my gaze captive.

He unbuttoned his jeans and lowered his fly.

My lips parted at the sight of the dusting of hair leading to the bulge behind his boxer briefs.

He pounced.

I playfully shoved at his chest, feeling the rumble of need beneath my palms before he robbed my air. His mouth crashed into mine and devoured me in a savage kiss. His hand dove into my shorts, and he growled in approval upon finding me slick as hell.

He lifted me by my ass. I expected to be fucked against the wall, but was surprised when he carried me to the bed and dropped us on it. I lost his mouth for a hot second. Cool air kissed my pelvis as he removed my shorts.

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