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She cupped my balls in one hand and took the head of my cock into her mouth, her tongue flicking over the sensitive skin while she rolled my balls gently in her palm.

I threaded my fingers through her wet hair.

“God, that feels good,” I rumbled, the words barely making it out of my chest.

She hummed around my cock, and I nearly lost it.

Then she pulled away with a soft pop and climbed back over me, knees settling on either side of my hips.

She wrapped her hand around my cock and stroked slowly over the slick skin.

My eyes slipped shut.

“No, sir.”

Her playful squeeze had them opening again.

“Eyes on me, Irishman.”

Sweet Jesus.

She had already lifted herself above me, one hand guiding my cock to her entrance.

“Mouse, that might be the sexiest demand I’ve ever heard.”

Then she slowly lowered herself onto me.

Inch by torturous inch, I watched my cock disappear inside her.

I stayed still and let her control it.

When she was a little more than halfway down, she rose again, gave me a coy little smile, then sank all the way onto me.

My head pressed back into the pillow.

She felt like fucking heaven.

Isabella leaned over me, her breasts brushing my chest as she kissed me and began rocking her hips.

My hands closed around her waist.

She caught my lower lip between her teeth and dragged them slowly across it before pushing herself upright again.

Her hips moved in an easy rhythm at first.

Then faster.

My hands slid down and locked around her hips. I took over the pace, driving up to meet every downward roll of her body.

The room filled with our moans, Isabella’s broken little cries, and the wet slap of skin meeting skin.

It was the best fucking music I’d ever heard.

And somewhere in the middle of it, something possessive and permanent settled into place inside me.

I wanted this woman.

Not only tonight.