Page 97 of Destined for the Devil
"Okay, we're not getting into the etymology of it here, but the way you pronounce your name in Russian is the same way you pronounce the word romance. Did you ever realize that love symbols surround you?"
I’d never made any of those connections, but it was curious. Suddenly, she jumped off the island stool and bolted upstairs, her naked legs taking two steps at a time. Within seconds, she was already back, typingsomething on her phone before reading it out.
"The Russian last name Agapov derives from the given name Agap, which, in turn, is derived from the Greek word for love." She held up her finger and then continued reading. "Agápe is often defined as unconditional, sacrificial love. Agápe is the kind of love that is felt by a person willing to do anything for another, including sacrificing themselves, without expecting anything in return." She met my gaze, such wonder and happiness reflecting in her eyes. “You—are love."
Agápe was the type of love I felt for Isla. It was absolute and all-encompassing. I was willing to do anything to ensure her safety and happiness. I would have sacrificed myself for her without even a second thought.
"You're just a lucky girl then. That your boyfriend is love on earth." I leaned in, planting a gentle kiss on her lips, still stained with more milk than coffee.
I proposed we go to St. Bart's, and Isla happily agreed but was incredibly surprised to hear we’d go today. She lived a different life before, that was for sure, but she was my woman again, and anything she wanted or wished for—would be hers.
We flew out that afternoon and stayed at a private villa right on the beach. My yacht was docked in St. Maarten and would meet us in St. Barts the next morning.
Just us two, no one else around, I turned my phone the fuck off and forgot it in my suitcase. The only person I ever wanted to hear from was finally with me, and I was dead to the rest of the world.
In hindsight, this would have been a perfect location for a proposal, but I hadn’t seen and approved the ring yet. It had to be a fucking monster rock because no one should haveanydoubts about who she belonged to.
Fuck, I would never fucking let her go again. I wanted—Icravedto have her linked to me forever.
As soon as we arrived, Isla slipped off her shoes and bounded to the shore. The warm water caressed her feet, and she waded in, bathed in evening sunlight. A rogue wave hit her a little too hard, and she turned to me, her surprised laughter an actual angel song here on earth.
Her happiness, her light, and her uplifting energy reminded me that she was a whole ten years younger than me. She enjoyed the pure things in life, and her genuine joy was a reminder not to take things so seriously.
The first day we spent mostly in bed. I wasstarvedfor her touch. Ineededto have my hands on her at all times. And I was elated to see her naked body on mine once more.
"Fuck, Daddy! Harder..." she moaned underneath me and squeezed my hand tighter.
Isla was any man's porn star dream come true. She wanted sex. She enjoyed sex. She actively participated, and sheaskedfor what she wanted. When it was time, she played the submissive role so well. Not to mention, her moans and what she said. Her innocence was left at the fucking door.
"Yeah, Daddy, fuck my pussy harder…I want it harder,” she pleaded again, and I obliged, slamming into her, hypnotized by the way her body jolted on the bed beneath me.
She brought my hand to her breast, and together, we applied pressure that she loved to feel. As I fucked her—because this was anything but sensual—I imagined her with a choker around her neck, the wordAngeletched into the leather.
But then I had another thought. Her ankles handcuffed to her wrists, taking it all obediently.
"Let me ride your cock, Daddy..." she whined, and after a few more thrusts, I obliged. Isla hopped on, her tits bouncing every time she sank onto me.Fuck, she had beautiful tits. Round, perky, and bouncy, and they fit into my hands like they were made for me. I had missed her sofucking much.
Up and down, Isla closed her eyes and worked diligently to bring us both to ecstasy. In the light of the day, she looked like a vision of a fallen angel, and I momentarily wondered if this was real.
But before she could come, I grabbed her by the waist and lifted her up, sitting her down on my face. Fucking fuck, I loved eating her out like this—I had the perfect view and the best access.
"Fuck…yes! Fuck, don't stop, Roman, don't stop..." she pleaded with me, her crimson lips open, my name leaving her tongue like a prayer.
I drowned in her delicious pussy, barely able to keep my eyes open from the view. Her skin was flushed, and she grinded on me, bracing herself against the headboard. I licked like a starved man but then focused on that one spot on her clit that she really liked.
Her fingers threaded through my hair, and she pulled gently, holding my head where she wanted it. I teased a bit longer but then pressed my tongue against her clit, ramming my fingers inside her.
"Roman…Roman…fuuuuck..."
Yes. Say it again. Only my name. Only my name will be on your lips.
Her breathing intensified, and I could see the way her body responded. Slowly, slowly, and then all at once, her orgasm ripped through her, that tight pussy clenching around my fingers.
Her body shook on top of me, and once the wave had passed, she immediately lost her composure and fell off, slumping on the bed beside me.
What a fucking sight. I pulled her beneath me and gently thrust in, intently listening to her little whines and gasps. The sound of her voice unraveled me faster than I ever liked to admit. No more fucking—I moved in and out slowly, drinking in the sight of her perfect body. But one minute was all I could fucking muster.
But just as I spilled inside her, a dangerous thoughtran through my mind. Why the fuck wasn't she pregnant yet? Fuck birth control. I wanted it.
