Chapter 15

Vance

My back cracks as I get up from the chair in her room. Each vertebra sings the song of an uncomfortable night's rest. I walk past her. She's still in her bed, her lips softly pouting as she sleeps.

My cock hardens when I recall last night, and I really wish it didn't. I get quite the rise out of getting Isabella going. Her cheeks get so warm and flushed when she's turned on. Even before she starts clenching her thighs in discomfort, the mask on her face showcases her arousal. Just the thought of it drives me insane.

I go to the kitchen and make some coffee. The fuel is needed because I slept like shit. I stare at the small puddle of water left by the melted ice cubes, and my mind goes to how her nipples looked and tasted. How much I wanted to wear her thighs like earmuffs.

My phone buzzes, and I look at the camera alert. She's stirring awake.

I stare at her on the screen as she puts her feet to the floor and raises her eyes to the camera. I know that look. She's going to fuck with me, and I haven't even had my coffee yet.

Like clockwork, her hand slips between her legs. She leans back, spreading her thighs for the camera. For me.

I abandon my coffee and march back to her room. When the door opens, her jaw drops, and she gasps as if she didn't know I've been watching her.

"What's my rule?" I ask as I step into her and halt her movements with a firm grasp on her wrist. It's a stupid question because we both know the answer.

She raises her eyes to me and bites her lip. She's probably still soaked from when I teased her. She might still be aching for me.

"That I can't touch myself," she says. She knows the rule in and out, and she's tried to find ways around it. "But it's hard to follow that rule when I'm so horny I can't think straight."

I sit next to her and drag her onto my lap. The heat of her pussy warms the front of my pants. When she starts to move her hips, I grip them and hold her in place.

"I know you want to come, but you can't," I say. "Neither can I. I'm aching for you. Can you feel how hard my cock is for you?"

She nods before burying her face in my neck.

"Goddamn it, Bella. I can't be around you without wanting to play with you. The only way to keep me from touching you is to tell your father to hire someone else. I have to leave before I make a career-ending mistake."

"Don't do that," she says as she moves to look up at me. "If you do, he'll know something happened between us."

"Then can you make it a little easier for me and stop teasing me with that perfect cunt?" I tug her down by her hips, letting her graze my cock through my pants. Just once.

"I want you to be my first," she says.

I scoff. "That absolutely will not happen. Get that idea out of your head. Your first will be your shitty husband, as your god intended."

"I trust you, though."

I brush back her hair and pull her into me. "Don't trust me. I'm not the lover you need."

"And Antonio will be?"

"He has to be. Now get off my lap, little girl."

She reaches between us, undoes my slacks, and pulls down my boxers as she takes out my cock. I try to stop her, but her warm hand feels so good on me.

She moves closer, lifts herself, and lowers her heat over the bare length of my dick. She scoops her pelvis, rubbing her wet slit against my cock.

I grip her hips and stop her, but she wraps her arms around me and rides my length. Back and forth. Back and forth. Her moans elongate as she grinds on me. Every time her warm, wet slit brushes against the head of my cock, I jerk. I've never wanted to be inside anyone so badly.

"Daddy," she moans.

I'm so fucking weak, so lost in the temptation of wanting to lift her and bring her down on my dick instead of letting her rub against the length. How can anyone be this close to something they want more than anything and not act on it?

But I have to.

"Come for me like a good girl so I can make you taste yourself on me."

She gasps at my words, and I nearly do too. I didn't mean to say that. That shouldn't have come out of my mouth. But it did, and now I'm thinking about stuffing her bratty mouth with my cock.

Isabella's motions grow jagged. She squeezes me, putting her body tight against mine as she gets so close. The pulse of her impending orgasm throbs against my dick. Then she stops moving, and her clit twitches against me. She moans in my ear as she experiences a delicious orgasm I can almost taste on my tongue again.

"Thank you," she pants.

I brush her sweaty hair away from her face without saying anything. I keep making mistakes with her. I'm not the man for this job.

I stand up, helping her to her feet before I take a few steps toward the door while pulling up my pants.

"Wait!" she calls after me.

I turn around, keeping my hands on both flaps of my pants but waiting to zip them up.

Her cheeks flush. "I want to taste myself on you."

Bad idea, self. Do not let her put her mouth on you. Her mouth would be a gateway.

Despite arguing internally with myself, my hands drop from the fabric and tug my boxers down again. "Come taste yourself, then," I growl.

She steps closer and I lean back against the closed door. Once she's in front of me, I help her to her knees with a rough grasp on her shoulder.

I'm making a big fucking mistake, but I want that mistake more than anything right now.

As she looks up at me with those big, round eyes, I bring the head of my cock to her lips. She spreads them to take me into her mouth, and I groan the moment her warmth wraps around me.

She's lacking her usual confidence. Her teeth graze my skin, but I let her figure out her teeth and tongue.

"This is the first cock you've ever had in your mouth, huh?" I grab the back of her head and push deeper into her mouth. "How about in your throat?"

She gags, but she settles onto her heels and loosens her throat for me.

"Yes, open your throat, just like that." I wrap her long, dark hair around my hand and thrust my hips against her mouth. "Whose come do you want down your tight throat?" I ask as I pull her off my cock.

Drool clings to her lower lip. She looks like she doesn't know if that's what she wants. If she told me to come somewhere else, I would. Her face. Her perky tits. But she rolls her eyes up to mine.

"Daddy's," she whispers.

Fuck. As much as I find it weird, hearing her beg for her daddy to fill her throat brings me to the edge of insanity.

I put her on my cock again and bring it to the back of her throat. She gags, tears marking her cheeks. I thrust against her mouth until I come too. Hard. Harder than I've ever come. Maybe because she's so forbidden, and nothing feels better than something you aren't supposed to experience.

I pull her from her knees before she can swallow or spit. I have no clue what she wants to do, and I'm not sure if she does, either.

"Spit or swallow?" I ask.

She tosses her head back and swallows. She gags, her throat moving heavily. Her lips spread, and she shows me that she took all of it.

I pull her into me and kiss her, exploring her mouth with my tongue. She tastes like my come. Like my little whore.

Only after my cock is spent does the regret swell inside me. How can something that feels so good be this fucking wrong? For Isabella, orgasms are worth the risk of death. I'm not sure I value pleasure the same way, but she makes that fate seem a little less dreary.