Chapter 29

Vance

The clock hums on the nightstand beside me. It's a sound that grows louder, despite never changing tone in reality. I reach back and tug the old rubber cord from the wall. It silences the hum, but somehow the silence is worse.

I'm on edge. Deservedly so. All I could think about was getting to Isabella. Taking out whoever I had to in order to get my hands on her again. And I did just that.

But at what cost? At what risk?

For a moment, I wonder if it's all worth it, but as I replay our time together, I realize that it absolutely is.

Soft snores permeate the silence. Isabella's asleep beside me. Sound a-fucking-sleep. I don't know how she's sleeping like a rocked baby after the murders and running away. Maybe that's just another difference between us. I may be a killer for hire, but she's been born and bred around death and destruction.

But it doesn't matter. I worried for a second if she'd adjust. If we made the right choice. But she sure looks content as shit. So I'd say so.

"Little girl," I whisper as I turn onto my side and pull her into me.

She whimpers.

My hand slides around her and between her bare legs. "Will you wake up for me? So I can pour this frustration into you."

"Yes, daddy?" she says with a snark in her tired voice.

Her legs spread for me. I lift her thigh and put it over my own. With my other hand, I tug down the front of my boxers. My cock rests against her slick, wet slit. Her back arches, stroking herself against my length. I groan. She's so tempting. Delicious.

I grab her hip firmly in one hand and my cock in the other, then give her exactly what she wants. My cock impales her wet and welcoming cunt. She envelops me, nearly to my balls. She's so fucking warm. She's hugging my cock with her clenching walls.

"Fuck," she whimpers.

I pull her into me to try to give her that final bit of my length, but she can't take any more of me. I know she would if she could, but I've reached the end of her. I can tell not only by how she feels but how the tone of her moan changes. Like there's pain stringing alongside the pleasure.

I hook my arm around her and grab her chest from beneath her cami. Her breast fills my hand. I squeeze, changing those moans once again. God, she's addictive, and it's hard to believe she's mine. I feel so blessed to be graced by her very presence, let alone have it around my dick.

I release her breast and bring my hand to her throat. I use my fingers around her chin to turn her face toward me. My forehead touches hers, and it feels so fucking good. Her moans against my mouth. The sweat on her skin from the pleasure I'm giving her.

"I..." I begin, but I can't finish my sentence. I've never felt so strongly for another human being in my life. As if my heart and soul fully belonged to her. So why can't I tell her that? Why does it hang up in my throat when I feel it the most. Fucking A.

Before she can question my silence, I drop my hand between her legs and rub her again. Stroking her clit in feather strokes before increasing the intensity as if strumming an instrument. Her mouth calls out each stroke to the tune of my fingertips.

"I'm going to come," she says. Her walls tighten around me.

"I know, Bella. Come for me," I growl.

Her spasms wrench my dick. Fuck. She feels amazing. I want to come, so fucking bad. Fill her pussy. Fuck, fill her womb for all I care. I just need to come inside her.

"Let me fill you."

"Vance," she moans, but I hear the hesitation in my name. "You shouldn't."

"Of course I shouldn't. But I want to. Need to. No matter what happens, you're mine, Isabella. If you get knocked up. If you don't. I'm not going anywhere. You aren't going anywhere. I'll always take care of you." My voice strains as I thrust, deep, slow, and try to keep from coming. "Take me, all of me."

"Yes, daddy," she strangles out. It's not snarky. It's full of lust. Longing. I fucking love it. The word draws the come from the depths of my balls. I fill her tight little pussy. My tight little pussy.

With my cock still engulfed in her warmth, I hear a creak outside the door. I throw a hand over her mouth, silencing everything aside from that ominous sound.

I draw my hips back and pull out of her. I release her mouth as I reach for my gun on the nightstand and pull up my boxers. "If it comes down to me and you, choose you."

"No," she says. Not unexpectedly either. She reaches over and grabs the gun I gave her back at her shitty husband's house. "I'm not losing you again."

I grip her chin. "We knew this was coming. I just didn't think it would be so soon. I don't have nearly as many dogs in the fight as I'd like to have. If they want to take you back, and if I'm a goner, you know what you have to do."

"I won't," she says, ripping her chin from my grasp. "We either both get out or neither of us do."

"You'd die for me, Isabella?"

"Like you'd kill for me."

I wipe a hand through my dark hair. "Let's kill or be killed then."