*Isabella's POV*
But he didn't stop. He just kept going, his pace relentless, drawing out my orgasm, pushing me higher and higher until I was a writhing, sobbing mess beneath him. He was a man possessed, taking everything I had to give and demanding more. Just when I thought I couldn't take any more, he pulled out of me. For a heartbeat, I felt empty, but then his hands were on my hips, flipping me over effortlessly onto my hands and knees. He grabbed my hair, pulling my head back gently. "You wanted my worst, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice a low, dangerous promise against my ear. "You're about to get it."
He didn't give me a moment to brace myself. One hand was on my hip, the other gripping my shoulder, and then he slammed back into me. The force of it sent a jolt through my entire body. He set a brutal, punishing rhythm, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing in the lavish room, mingling with my ragged gasps and his low grunts.
But then, he changed it up. He slowed for a second, his grip tightening, and he pulled me up, back against his chest. My back was flush against his hot, sweaty chest. This new angle was… fuck. It was deeper. So much deeper. With every powerful thrust, he was hitting that spot, my G-spot making my vision blur. A sob tore from my throat, a raw sound of pleasure.
"Fuck, Jacob," I cried out, my head falling back against his shoulder. "… don't stop."
"Never," he growled in my ear, his voice a low, possessive rumble. "This pussy is mine right now. You hear me? All fucking mine."
His hands slid up my body, rough and demanding, and cupped my breasts. He squeezed, his fingers finding my already-hardened nipples and rolling them, pinching them just hard enough to send a sharp, exquisite jolt of pleasure-pain straight to my clit. That was it. That was all it took. The combination of him pounding into me from that deep, devastating angle and the relentless stimulation on my nipples sent me hurtling over the edge again. An orgasm tore through me, violent and all-consuming. I screamed his name, my body convulsing, my inner walls clamping down on him like a vise.
He groaned, a long, low sound of pure satisfaction as my pussy pulsed around him. He rode out my orgasm, his thrusts becoming erratic, more desperate. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum," he bit out, his teeth grazing my shoulder. With a final, powerful thrust, he buried himself deep inside me, his whole body shuddering against mine as he found his own release.
We collapsed onto the bed in a tangle of sweaty limbs, both of us breathing heavily, our bodies still trembling. For a long moment, the only sound was our ragged breaths slowly returning to normal.
Saying he made love to me tonight would have been a fucking understatement. He took me, claimed me, showed me with his body what I meant to him, over and over again, almost mindlessly. We moved together in a hysteria of need and desire, the atmosphere between us so electrifying it felt like the air itself was crackling. I don't know when things changed between us, or if we always felt this way together and were just too fucking scared to admit it. But lying there, my body aching in the most delicious way, his arm wrapped possessively around my waist… it felt right. So fucking right.
The room was thick with the scent of us, a musky, intoxicating mix of sweat and sex. Our bodies were a tangle together on the sheets, my body still humming from the relentless pounding he'd just given me. He shifted beside me, his arm tightening around my waist, and pulled me in for another kiss. This time, it was different. His lips were soft a stark contrast to the brutal possession from before. It was gentle.
"I love you so fucking much, sweetheart," he murmured against my lips, the words a raw, breathless whisper.
And there it was. The three words that could bring down from a sex high. The awkwardness hit me like a physical blow, a cold wave washing over the post-coital warmth. My body tensed, and I felt my mind immediately trying to scramble away, to build a wall. Fuck, why did he always have to make things so bloody awkward?
He must have felt me stiffen in his arms. He pulled back just enough to look at me, his dark eyes searching my face. "Don't give me that look," he said, his voice quiet. "I know I say a lot of things, and I know nobody takes me seriously." He sighed, a sound that was uncharacteristically sad, almost fucking defeated.
"I didn't say that," I countered defensively, my voice a bit too sharp.
"Let me finish," he insisted, his gaze unwavering. "I know you and Damien have the same outlook in life. I know that you two have a special connection, a... a bond that I could never compete with." Hearing him say it, admit it so plainly, was a gut punch. "I know all this," he continued, his thumb stroking my side, a small, calming gesture. "But let me show you that I can be serious too. Because I'm serious about you, Isabella. So fucking serious about you." He paused, letting the weight of his words hang in the air between us, giving them space to sink in, to shatter whatever defenses I had left. His thumb was tracing lazy circles on my hip, a small, grounding gesture in the sea of overwhelming emotion he'd just thrown me into.
"People will say shit about me," he continued, his voice low, "but I don't give a fuck what anyone else thinks. I just want you to believe me." He took a deep breath, and I could feel the slight tremor in his chest. "I know it makes it seem like I'm rushing things, but fuck, this is the first time when I say it and actually mean it. You are everything I ever fucking think of, ever since I've met you." He paused, his gaze fixed on some point over my shoulder, as if he was watching the memory play out. "I admit, I went to Raleigh with other intentions. I felt that Damien had feelings for you, and I was just curious to see you, and knowing his situation, I knew he wouldn't make a fucking move."
"What situation?" I asked, my curiosity well and truly piqued. I propped myself up on an elbow, the duvet pooling around my waist.
"Not a situation, per se," he corrected, shaking his head slightly. "What I meant to say is, I went to Raleigh just to tease my brother a little, to see if I could make him make a move on you. But when I saw you... I was lovestruck." He said the word with a sort of wry disapproval, as if he couldn't quite believe it himself. He took another deep breath before continuing. "I tried to resist it for a while, but we both know how that fucking ended. So I said to myself, 'fuck it.' And because I kinda intruded on your relationship, I thought it wouldn't be fair to keep you to myself, so I proposed to Damian that we revert to our old ways...although we hadn't done it in years " He trailed off, a guilty look on his face.
"Years?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper. The word hung in the air.
"Four years to be exact," he admitted, his voice dropping even lower. "We didn't... we kind of didn't talk at all for the last two years." He looked away, a flash of raw pain crossing his features before he masked it.
"Two years?" I exclaimed, sitting up straight now, the duvet forgotten. "But you're brothers!" The shock was real, a sharp jab to my ribs. What the hell could have happened? "Can I ask why?" I asked softly.
"We'll tell you, sweet," he said, turning back to me, his eyes full of a sadness I'd never seen before. "But not tonight." I just nodded in response, my mind racing with a thousand questions. He reached out and tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear. "I know you're scared," he said, his voice gentle again. "I know you think you're not meant for love, but I don't think that's true. I know how I feel around you, and I know you feel it too. And I'm going to continue saying it whenever I fucking feel it, until you believe it."
The intensity in his eyes was almost too much. It was raw, honest, and completely disarming. My heart was hammering against my ribs, and I felt that familiar urge to deflect, to run from the sheer vulnerability of it all. So, I did what I do best. I offered a small, teasing smile.
"Damn," I said, my voice light and playful. "You really know how to get lucky."
A slow grin spread across his face, chasing away the shadows of the past few minutes. He let out a low chuckle, and I joined in, the sound of our laughter filling the room, breaking the tension and pulling us back to the safety of the moment.