dead before her first hit of caffeine. I found that unbearably charming before, and I find it unbearably charming this morning, too.
She makes a little humming noise that goes straight to my cock and opens her eyes fully for the first time since she walked out. “Hi.”
“Hi.” I hang up, slip my phone into my pocket, and cross to her. She watches me, some wariness flickering into her dark eyes as she seems to remember all the history and bullshit. I carefully take the mug from her and set it on the counter and then catch her hips. “Morning.”
“Morning,” she echoes, still watching me as if she’s trying to draw my thoughts right out of my head. “You seem different.”
“Do I?” I snake a hand up her spine, pulling her flush to my chest, and cup the back of her head. “It strikes me that I haven’t kissed you properly in more than a year.”
She licks her lips. “I noticed that, too.”
How many times have I tugged her into my arms and kissed her? A hundred? A thousand? I can’t begin to count. Never once did it feel as fraught as this moment, as if one wrong move will cave in the ground beneath our feet. “I’d like to.”
A small furrow appears between her brows. “You’ve been commanding me to do all sorts of filthy things and now you’re asking for a kiss?”
“It’s different.” Maybe it’s sentimental as shit, but I want her to choose this in a moment when I’m not railroading her. Sex and kink can be the glue that holds the three of us together long enough for us to figure out something more permanent, but it can’t be the only part of the foundation I fully intend to build. Not if I want it to last.
I massage the tight muscles at the base of her skull and she weaves a little on her feet. “Can I kiss you, Isabelle Belmonte?”
She hooks her arms around my neck and lets her mouth answer for her. I have to concentrate on keeping my feet at the first taste of her. This woman always kisses like she might never get the chance again. No hesitance. No shyness. She gives it her everything, every single time. It’s different than I remember it. Better. Neither one of us are holding back now.
Lips and tongue and the barest tease of teeth.
Her kiss is a challenge I’m only too happy to meet. I dig my hands into her hair, tilting her face up for a better angle, and she makes a happy little noise. I could kiss this woman until my dying breath, but I force myself to gentle the contact, to finally break it and lift my head. Her eyes have gone a little hazy and she’s leaning on me like she might not be able to hold herself up if I let go.
Isabelle licks her lips. “Good morning, indeed.”
There are so many things I could say, so many options that will push us toward my endgame or leave us in disaster. Instead, I kiss her forehead and gently set her away from me. “Take a shower and get ready. We’re having guests in an hour.”
She blinks at me, something dangerous flickering into her dark eyes. “Beast, I have none of the things I need to get ‘guest ready.’ Gaeton doesn’t even have a hairbrush in his bathroom.”
That’s what I suspected. “Trust me.”
“Is this a kink thing?”
If I tell her yes, she’ll stop arguing, but while I might lie to get my way when it suits me, honesty is the best bet right now. “No.”
Isabelle picks up her coffee and stares at me over the rim. Her expression goes downright dangerous, every inch the powerful princess. “You know better than most that I have a public image to uphold. That’s not vanity; it’s fact. You bring anyone in here that aren’t my sisters, and it’s a territory issue. You know this. You can degrade me all you want for the next twelve days in private, but you don’t get to do it in public.”
That’s about enough of that. I give her a long look that has her shifting her stance like a bratty submissive that just realized they’ve crossed over their Dom’s line. “I know what’s at stake, and I’m not going to do anything to jeopardize your standing or reputation. But I will degrade the fuck out of you in public when the situation calls for it.” I step closer, caging her