Page 72 of The Devil's Revelation
Normally Sage would be all gung-ho to piss King off immediately, but I can tell by the way she grabs on to him she understands the gravity of the situation. Mom and Dad head upstairs to their wing, and I see the weight on my father’s shoulders. At this point we should be all enjoying life, but instead we’re dealing with this shit.
I don’t see Izzy around so I head to my room. I should find her, update her on Carson, but I need to work some shit out, and part of that includes her. The idea of her wanting to leave is still in my mind. So how the hell am I going to convince her to trust me and stay?
If I was smart, I would let her go and move on. Why do I want a woman in my life anyway? Sure, Izzy is hot as hell, and she makes me feel things I never have before, but does that really mean much in the grand scheme of things? She’s going to be working at the shop, which means I’ll be her boss and that’s a whole other mess I need to think about.
I promised myself I would never sleep with an employee, and while I was thinking of a receptionist at the time, this still applies. Then again, the idea of her working at the shop and her not being mine makes my gut sour.
This is a damn mess. I just need to put all these thoughts out of my head for now.
I glance at Izzy’s closed door and I debate knocking on it, but instead, I turn away and open mine instead. I walk inside, pull the door shut behind me, and freeze when I see Izzy lying on my bed, biting her lip nervously.
“Sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed this was okay,” she says nervously, picking at the hem of her large shirt. Now that I look closer, I notice it’s one of mine.
Everything I was just questioning goes flying out the window. I move towards her, drawn to her as if we’re tethered to each other. I’m powerless to stop it, and I don’t want to. I take in the way her blonde hair flows over her shoulders, and down her back. Her face is still a bit pale, but a rosy blush starts to fill her cheeks the longer we stare at each other.
“I can go,” she whispers, but she doesn’t move.
“Do you want to?” I ask her softly, slowly reaching out to wrap my hands around her waist and lift her up.
She wraps her legs around my waist and I realize pretty damn quickly she’s not wearing anything underneath. I groan, and she breathes out, “No. I need you.”
“Are you mine, Izzy?” I ask her. I don’t know where the words come from, but I don’t want to take them back. I want to hear her answer.
Her eyes search mine, as if looking for an answer there, but I hold her gaze, refusing to look away. To back off my question. Finally she answers, “I want to be. I just don’t know how.”
Something unfurls in my chest, and I don’t let myself think too deeply on her answer. The time for thinking is done. Now, I need to show her exactly what it means to be mine.
I take her mouth, wanting—no,needingthe connection. Her legs flex around my hips as she wraps her arms around my neck and holds on tight. This isn’t the hurried passion like the other times we were together. This time, it’s a reaffirmation, and I’m planning on taking my time. I’ll have her quivering and begging before I’m done.
Slowly, I lower us onto my bed, fitting myself tightly between her legs and pressing myself fully over her. She gives a soft sigh into my mouth, her hands moving from my neck to my back along the edge of my shirt. Her hands creep underneath, her fingers tracing along my skin. Heat follows each brush, and I force myself to pull away and yank my shirt over my head.
Izzy watches me with hungry eyes, taking in the ink on my skin, the muscles that bunch and flex with each movement. I reach down and make quick work of the shirt she’s wearing, tossing it aside and baring her to my gaze. “You’re beautiful, Izzy,” I murmur, letting my gaze roam over her.
“I’m too skinny,” she says absently. “Not enough curves.”
I narrow my eyes at that nonsense. “Who told you that?” I ask her as I make quick work of my boots and socks, and unbuttoning my jeans. I leave them on for now, because if I take them off, all bets are off. I have plans and I’m not about to be distracted.
Izzy shrugs her shoulders slightly. “I just know,” she answers.
“I don’t want to hear you put yourself down, Izzy, ever,” I say firmly, placing one knee on the bed and leaning over her. She looks up at me, eyes soft and a bit glazed as they take me in. “Understand?”
“Torque…”
“No, Izzy, I want to hear you say it,” I tell her, bringing my hand up and tracing along her shoulder and down her arm. I need her to see what I see. To convince her that she’s the only one that will ever be able to hold my attention. “I don’t give a shit about the size of your ass or your boobs, though both are damn perfect if you ask me.The only thing that matters to me is that you know I think you’re gorgeous just as you are.”
She’s silent for a moment, but finally she whispers, “You make me believe that. I don’t obsess over my looks, Torque, but I can’t help but compare myself when you’re surrounded by all these gorgeous women. Hell, the club girls are…”
“Are fake,” I interrupt. “They walk around in more make-up and fake shit than I can keep up with. Sure, they’re pretty to look at in a shallow way, but I want my woman to be strong, smart, and beautiful on the inside just as much as on the outside.” I move my hand back up her arm and over her shoulder, down along her side, then down to her waist. “Your body is honed by hard work and not some kind of procedure to attract attention.”
She shivers when I move my hand over her belly and then back up to her breasts. I cup her right breast, tugging on her hard nipple before rolling it with my fingers. She gasps, body arching, and rasps out, “Torque.”
“Say it, Izzy,” I order. “Tell me what I want to hear.”
She lets out a shaky breath. “I’m not putting myself down, Torque, and I’m happy with the way I am. I shouldn’t have said what I did, it was more of an off handed comment. Besides, big boobs would get in the way of leaning under the hood of a car.”
I chuckle. She has a point. “Good,” I praise, and lean down to take her nipple into my mouth, sucking and rolling it with my tongue and lips.
She hisses out a breath, her body arching into the sensation and her hand coming up to clench in my hair. I love how responsive she is, how open she is. I switch to the other breast to give it the same treatment. I move so I’m fully on the bed, fully over her, and press myself firmly between her legs.
I’m so hard my cock is pissed at me for keeping him contained, but I don’t care. I have plans and he’s just going to have to wait.
“Torque,” she whimpers as I pull away, and slowly start working my way down her sternum and towards her belly. I feel the muscles quiver and bunch under my lips, and she giggles when I dip my tongue into her belly button before I move along towards her right hip and then repeat the process over to her left hip. “Stop teasing me,” she begs softly, legs shifting restlessly.
“I’m not teasing you, baby,” I tell her as I shift down, forcing her legs further apart with my shoulders. “I’m worshiping you.”
I trail my tongue along the crease between her hip and thigh before moving to the other side to do the same. She squirms and I can smell her arousal, see it coating her pretty pussy. I want to taste her, and I want to have her screaming my name.
I want Izzy Mills to know that she’s mine, and that there is nowhere else she needs to be but in my bed and my life.
