Devotion - Billionaire Contemporary Romance Novel (20 page)

This must end…
she texted back, then hit send.  She held her breath, like she was anticipating the most important message of her life.  Without hesitation, her phone buzzed.

Then choose to end it
.

Isabel exhaled, preparing to text back her final refusal—and terminate everything that had been initiated between them.

Buzzz
. Isabel glanced down at her phone. 

I choose you
.

Isabel stared down at those three simple words—
I choose you
.  Unapologetic and undeterred.  A rush of emotions swelled within her heart.  Her hands trembled.  Her breath accelerated. Such tiny simple words, and yet they were enough to bring her to tears.  She glanced up into the silence of her sleeping house, vacillating between the safety and security of a life she had always known and the temptation of being lured into the future of a new one. 

She cradled her phone against her chest and felt it vibrate with his final command: 180 N ASTOR PL

180 North Astor Place
?  The address was within her neighborhood, only a few blocks away.  Isabel rushed to her bay windows and peered out into the black night.  For a fleeting moment, she felt certain she glimpsed his elusive shadow passing through the darkness.  A sweeping sense of urgency quickened her pace.  He
was
there, waiting for her…

She gazed down at her yoga pants and T-shirt.  There was no time to change and no options for her.  Everything was upstairs in her bedroom.  She rummaged through the foyer closet. 
Trench coat.
She slipped it on and pulled her house keys from her purse, slipping them in the pocket of her coat.  She stripped the rubber band from her hair, unleashing her long brown hair, and gazed at herself in the hall tree’s mirror.  Then, she peered down at her phone and hesitated before texting back her definitive reply.

Soon…

She deposited her phone inside her purse and abandoned everything that identified herself as “Isabel Alvarez.” 
Would it all be a mistake? 
She shut her eyes, confirming the answer before rushing out onto her front porch like a fugitive relinquishing herself to the consequences. The cold night air stung her lungs like a slap; she exhaled, forcing out the fear and anxiety from within her heart.  Wisps of condensation furled into the air and disappeared underneath the illumination of the harvest moon.  Before rounding the corner of her block and liberating herself completely, she surrendered to the sudden pang of obligation and glanced back at her home, just in time to catch sight of the curtain, flapping shut along the window of her mother’s bedroom.

Isabel raced along the sidewalk and through the bulky shadows of oak trees that lined the historic streets of Chicago’s Gold Coast.  She was reminded of how far she had come from being a pregnant single mother—barely able to comprehend how she was going to find a job, have a new baby, and provide for both him and her mother—to being a professional career woman able to afford her own house in one of Chicago’s most affluent neighborhoods.  It had been no accident.  There was only one reason, and that reason had been one man and one man alone—Phillip Spears.  She shivered, the drafty breeze cutting through her sleeves, and listened to the swaying bristle of dried oak leaves, mimicking the murmuring secret within her heart. 
It had only been because of one man
…

She rounded the corner of Astor Place and glanced at the numbers, marking each three-flat brownstone and high-rise apartment complex.  But she already knew her destination—The Wilder Mansion.  She had passed it countless times while riding bikes with Aidan through their neighborhood.  The Wilder Mansion had been constructed as a symbol of power and prestige by Thurston Wilder, one of Chicago’s wealthy stockyard barons.  Now, as she approached the red masonry fortress, she was reminded of the history behind its original owner, who had monopolized his way into power after the Great Chicago Fire of 1871, and apologized to no one for it.

Isabel cautiously rose up its sleek sandstone steps, flanked by stone lion statues, and arrived in front of a massive solid walnut door.  She tested its bronzed door latch.  Immediately, it clicked open and the door’s density towed her inside the cathedral foyer.  She squinted through the shadows, its Victorian opulence obscured by darkness, except for the distant hint of flaming light glinting along the varnished banister of the grand interior staircase.

He was waiting for her upstairs
. 

Drawn forward by her own curiosity and anticipation, Isabel climbed the imposing staircase, following the seducing warmth and crackling sound of a fireplace, its flickering shadows reflecting against the amber mahogany walls of the narrow hallway ending in a secluded chamber.
The master bedroom
. Ajar with its silent summons, she pushed against it and spotted the simmering fireplace within its vaulted stone mantelpiece.  Its undulating glow cast moody, irregular patterns along the chamber’s Persian wall tapestries and ornate Oriental rugs.  She shivered as a natural draft cut through the room, threatening to extinguish the sole source of light within it.  It was a reclusive sanctuary within an enigmatic fortress that no longer offered an escape, and one single overpowering piece of furniture filled the chamber like a symbol of domination—an Emperor canopy bed.

“Take off your coat.”

She heard his terse familiar voice, directing her from the shadowed corner behind her, as if he expected everything from her without the promise of giving her anything in return.

She paused, repressing the reflex to spin around and confront him.  But it was a test—a challenge of her allegiance.  She closed her eyes and inhaled the scent of burning pine.  He had texted her to choose, and her decision to come to him tonight confirmed that she had made her ultimate choice:
she would not betray him.

Slowly, she unfastened the belt around her trench coat and slid it off her shoulders.  It dropped to the floor, its metal buckle clanking against the woven carpet. 
He was waiting and watching her.
  Like an invisible force drawn between them, she sensed his presence behind her, anchoring her in place and preparing her for his next command.  She peered at the heavy antique bear rug, spread across the canopy bed, wondering if he planned to spread her naked body across it like a hunting prize.

“Undress.”

One simple word—
undress
.  And yet Isabel felt her pulse race as she considered the consequences of acquiescing to his order.  He did not raise his voice or shift out of the shadows.  He simply expected her to expose herself completely.  She obeyed, towing her T-shirt over her shoulders and exposing her bare breasts to the pastel glow of the fireplace.  She paused and waited for his next command, but she only heard his muted exhale—an audible betrayal that he was stroking himself.  Isabel closed her eyes and sighed, stimulating her nipples with her own fingertips, releasing the unbearable tension that had built up between them throughout the day.

“More…”

He whispered it like wish.  With every sensual twist and pluck of her own tits, she heard him pleasuring himself in turn.  In that brief moment, she was now his captor.  She fixed her eyes on the wafting flames of the fireplace, imagining how its reflection flickered off her bare skin as she submitted herself to his voyeuristic gaze. 

When she no longer heard his moan, she placed her fingers over the waistband of her yoga pants and deliberately teased them off her hips, luring his eyes over the string bikini band of her black French cut thong—the same one he had given her as a gift.  She had never intended to reveal that she had worn them often since their first night together.  They were a nostalgic reminder of the passion he had unleashed in her, a memory which she reflected upon during the most unexpected moments of her work day and with a frequency that felt like a dirty addiction—one she wasn’t prepared to admit to anyone, not even to herself.  Now, she felt an overwhelming need to expose it to him like a guilty confession. 
No matter the sacrifice or cost,
she had not wanted their first night together to be their last
.  She could no longer pretend that he was the only one who wanted what he offered her. 
Now, he knew everything
. 

With stealth and precision, his footsteps shifted along the floorboards as he slipped behind her and sucked the nape of her neck.  She moaned in acceptance before his hot breath traveled down her shoulder blades and along her spine. 
God, how desperate she was to feel his lips moistening every part of her naked body
.  His hands wrapped around her waist and enveloped her against his smooth, broad pecs.  His pelvis pressed against her backside. He was naked and ready for her
.
His firm erection brushed against her cheeks, and she reached behind her—an impromptu desire to pleasure him.  But he evaded her touch; instead, he secured her neck like a pet, as if he was admiring her natural beauty in the feathery light while reinforcing his insistence that she should not attempt to glace behind her.  Isabel closed her eyes and muted her gasp as his fingers slipped under the silky panty line of her thong and indulged in her wetness.

Yeeeessss…

He pinned her tighter against his chest, stroking her slit and fingering her clit, eliciting her groans and relaxing her stance into his embrace.  He ensured her ultimate surrender by cupping her pubic bone and rousing her with undulating waves of pleasure until he could no longer wait for what they both desperately yearned for most. 

Suddenly, the entire chamber plunged into darkness.  The rushing draft washed across her bare skin before snuffing out the final ember of warmth in the room, leaving her with only the cold aftershock of foreboding silence. Like a reflex, she opened her eyes as his shielding body swiftly released her, but she could see nothing within the chamber—nothing except her shrouded memory of the heavy velvet curtains masking the arcing windows and the incongruent stone walls shutting her inside his protective fortress. Then, unexpectedly, she felt his fingernail tracing over the tips of her erect nipples. 
He was in front of her now…directly in front of her. 
Isabel’s pulse quickened as she waited for her eyes to adjust to the suffocating absence of light and settle upon his shadowed face. But still, she could see nothing—nothing beyond the prison of darkness suppressing all her senses, and she anticipated nothing—nothing except his intention to seduce her the way she had come to secretly crave.  His hostile hands towed down her thong, abandoning them at her knees.  Then, she felt his tongue sliding between her thighs, teasing her clit with a flicking lick. He waited for her moan before bracing her backside and coaxing her legs wider, testing her wetness. Even within absolute darkness, he could read her most forbidden desires.  How many times had she fantasized about his tongue lapping over her again and again?
Too many times
.  She folded forward, supporting her own weight against his sculpted shoulders and gushed for him, confirming what he had already discovered during their first night together—her buttoned-up professional persona was a façade.  Beyond her routine of civility and diplomacy within her work life, there was an irrepressible sexual goddess who yearned on a daily basis to submit herself to his carnal lust. 

Yeeessss…

She sighed, releasing all the tension between them as he invaded her deeper, tasting her within the darkness.
His hands massaged her fleshy backside, spreading her open and uninhibited, while he hummed heat and desire into every erogenous part of her body.  Her knees and thighs slacked with arousal as his rhythmic vibrations swelled inside her like tingling tides yearning to break against the shore.

With agility and strength, he rose from his knees and swept his lips over her tits, sucking her like a punishment before pressing the heat of his firm cock between her legs. She pushed back against his domination, but he refused to relent. Tonight would not be like their previous nights of seduction. Tonight, he wanted to prove to her that she meant something even greater to him than she allowed herself to believe she had.

Without warning, he abruptly whisked her into his arms and spread her out across the plush mattress of the canopy bed. The rough bear pelt grazed against her thighs and backside as she sensed his erection drifting over her belly button.  He was listening to her respiration in the darkness, waiting for her to settle her racing breaths before lowering his mysterious whisper against her neckline. 

“Tell me you want this...”

His chin dug between her breasts as the tip of his erection, hot with fury, lowered between her legs, seeking out an intimacy neither one of them had been willing to consent. His burning cock pushed against her pubic bone, throbbing to come inside her.   Suddenly, doubt and uncertainty flooded her senses.  Was she willing to spread herself open and accept him—despite the lingering threat that everything might change between them?  Isabel pressed her fingers into the strong arc of his smooth back, signaling that she was ready to risk everything for the pleasure he was about to produce within her.

The moment he made direct contact, she heard herself gasp—an involuntary reflex after so many years of sexual repression.  His hand cupped under her backside, tilting her pelvis upwards, easing the friction of his first resistant thrust.  Her moan signaled how much she yearned to endure the raw, primal power of his masculine cock pushing inside of her.