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"Why are you here?” I suck in a breath at the sound of his voice, so gravelly that I feel it scrape over my bones in a shiver. It takes me a second to process his question. “Same reason everyone else is,” I answer breathily. “I just wanted to watch the fights.” He still hasn’t really turned to look at me. But I see him scoff, right before he says, “Doesn't really seem like your scene, princess."
Because no matter how many times I push her, mock her, try to put distance between us… she pushes back. And somehow, she's doing it with a smile on her face. It's infuriating and confusing all in one go.
"What a pretty little liar you are,"
"Such a furious little ballerina,"
"Has anyone ever told you that you're shockingly charming?" He revs the engine. "It's practically my main descriptor."
“Hang on and try not to come again.”
"I had a… hard childhood," I admit in that same tight voice. "I had to become a fighter to survive. Training just keeps the anger at bay for a little while."
"Izzy, you ready to go?" I hear Hailey ask. I see Jax frown at the nickname. “Sorry, I should’ve asked. Do you prefer to go by Izzy?” A light blush stains Isabella's cheeks, and she sends a glance my way. I know she’s remembering our conversation about her name, even as she tries to shrug it off. "It's the nickname everyone uses for me. Isabella is too much of a mouthful." No, it's not. Fuck no, it's not. But I don't say that out loud. I don't correct her that Isabella is the only thing she should be called, that the nickname "Izzy" isn't even in the realm of something fitting for her. I
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"Two hundred?" she asks in a purr. "You were looking a little more than that today. It looked like you've grown a few extra muscles since the last time I saw you shirtless." I quirk an eyebrow. "Didn't realize you were checking me out then or now, princess." "It's pretty impossible not to," she whispers, her cheeks heating.
"Don't you dare laugh," I growl, freezing in place the second all my weight is on the hammock. "If I go down, I'm dragging you with me." "And here I thought chivalry was dead," she says on a laugh. "Trust me, princess, my brand of chivalry is a little different,"
"Has anyone ever told you that you're quite mouthy for a sweet little ballerina?" I drawl, pleased to see a shiver run through her body. I smirk when her smile drops and she sucks in a sudden breath. "I'm still a sweet little ballerina," she says, but her voice is too breathy for the clapback to be effective. "No, you're not." I cock my head and study her for a moment. "You play the part, but it's just an act, isn't it? Underneath all that lace and sweetness, you're actually a tigress. You're strong, and passionate, and you’re so fucking sexy." Her chest starts to heave with rapid breaths, and
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“Do you… umm, do you want–?” is all she’s capable of stringing together. “Yes,” I say on another growl, pulling her forward until our foreheads are almost touching. “Whatever you want, yes.” A shaky breath leaves her lips at my response. “I was going to ask if you wanted to come inside,” she whispers.
“Isabella, I—” I choke on my words again when she wraps a hand around the base and squeezes. “Fuck, princess, I'm the one that's supposed to be on my knees.”
"You taste so good," she whispers, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. But before I can respond to that surprising and sexy confession, she's sinking her mouth back onto my cock.
"So wet, princess," I murmur against her lips. "Are you always this wet for me?"
"I'm the one fucking you," I growl, driving my fingers even harder into her. After a second, I put my thumb back on her clit. "I control when you come, and how hard. And right now, I want you to take my fingers like a good fucking girl and come all over my hand. Understood?"
"Touch yourself," I tell her, my voice like gravel. "Show me what you like, Isabella."
“Kane… God, you’re so big.” Her dazed expression meets mine. “Move. Please.” I drop from my hand to my elbow with a pained groan. “So fucking polite,”
“Shhh, quiet, princess. You don’t want everyone to know how hungry you are for my cock, do you? That you’re not the good girl everyone thinks you are?”
"What on earth does unhappy Kane look like?" I wonder sarcastically as I lean down to pull the pan out and set it on the stovetop. I'm so mesmerized by the sight of our cheesy, perfect meal, I don't realize Kane has stepped up behind me until his arms go around my waist. He tightens his grip and nuzzles into my neck, and his voice is quiet when he says, "It's getting harder and harder to remember."
"You're so fucking sweet," I growl into her mouth. "I could live on the taste of you."
"Kane, you deserve to have someone care about you," she says firmly. "You deserve to be loved. Do you hear me? Isabella isn't settling for you. She's been choosing you. Every day. Because you're worthy of being chosen."
