I felt the goosebumps on her thighs as she rocked herself on my hands, bringing herself down to get deeper. Liquid flooded my hand as I continued to rub even as her moans got wilder.
“Okay, okay, okay,” Isabella repeated. “I need you inside me.”
I pulled my fingers away and slid each in my mouth, sucking them clean, before tugging off my shirt over my head. Isabella swayed, unsteady on her feet. I slid my pants down next, relieving some of the pressure against my cock.
“Get on your knees,” I said. “I’ve dreamt of what you would look like taking my cock in this room and I can’t leave without seeing it.”
I pulled my cock out of my black briefs, feeling the heat of myself in my hand as I gave myself a few strokes. I tightened more at the sight of Isabella, wordlessly getting down on her knees next to the mirror.
“I desperately want to be inside that pussy, but I’ve got to see those lips wrapped around my cock again,” I said as I walked closer to her, bringing the tip of me to her lips.
Isabella reached out with her tongue to lap up the precum beading at the tip as shivers ran down my spine. She ran her tongue up and down the sides, coating my cock in her saliva. Then she lined up her mouth, opened wide, gripped my hips, and sank my cock deep in her mouth.
I almost came right then and there. My eyes danced between Isabella beneath me and the sight of her taking me in the mirror. God, she was something. I could watch her swallow my cock every day. But I didn’t want it to end here. I gently released her grip on me and slid myself out.
“Get on the bench, on your knees,” I said, lifting her up off the floor. Isabella positioned herself exactly how I wanted her. Her knees were pressed down into the fabric, her ass was in the air, and her elbows rested on the edge of the bed. She turned back to me and grinned as she wiggled her hips.
I was on her in an instant, laying a warm smack of my palm against the smooth skin of her ass. I kept my eyes on her face as she closed her eyes and grinned softly. Exactly how I’d hope she’d react.
“Turn around and watch, Isabella,” I said. “Your pussy is about to be wrapped around my cock.”
She rewarded me with a small arch of her back, pressing her ass against the tip of my swollen cock as she turned her cheek to watch our reflections. I reached down and spread her cheeks out with my hands. I lined my cock up to her entrance and sank myself into her. I relished in the soft moan that came from beneath me.
I gripped Isabella’s hips tightly as I pulled myself away only to slam back in. My hips smacked against her ass making her skin jiggle. She was mesmerizing. My eyes moved between watching myself slide into her and watching her. Isabella’s eyes were heavy and glassy as she stared over her shoulder at the mirror beside us.
God, she felt so good beneath me. She was so soft and warm. So willing to play the games I liked playing. I knew, right now, she wasn’t stressed about everything going on outside these mirrored walls. That, for once, she wasn’t overthinking about where she was in life, where she lived, or what her ex was up to.
“God, I could be inside you all night, Isabella,” I said. “But right now, I want to see my cum dripping out of you.”
I knew Isabella liked my dirty talk because I could feel her pussy clench around me as I spoke.
I picked up my pace and gripped her hips. I felt my orgasm quickly building so I slammed into her one more time before exploding. I let myself catch my breath before slowly sliding out, my eyes locked onto her dripping pussy. I didn’t miss how Isabella’s eyes tracked my movement or how they widened when I spread her wide so I could see me dripping out of her.
I could never get enough of Isabella.
I helped her lay down on the bench and brought a warm rag to clean up the mess we had made.
“Well, that was one way of celebrating you passing your exam,” Isabella said as she tugged back on her pants.
“Wanna go test out another room?” I joked, half-serious. Her laughter, light and airy, filled the space between us, but my suggestion seemed to tap into a deeper, unresolved tension.
“I think we’ve pushed our luck enough for one day,” she replied. The humor in her voice didn’t mask the underlying concern about getting caught. It struck a chord. Was our secrecy necessary, or was it a barrier I hadn’t acknowledged until now?
Reflecting on our hidden moments, a sense of déjà vu washed over me. I’d been here before—kept in the shadows, deemed not quite right to be brought into the light. Isabella’s earlier words, designed to keep a distance between us, now resonated like a repeating pattern. Was I falling into old habits, hoping for more from someone who might not be ready to offer it in full view?
As we cleaned up, my mind wrestled with these doubts. This wasn’t about being discreet. It was about feeling valued, seen, and unashamed. I had promised myself not to fall for someone who wouldn’t openly stand by me, rich girl or not. Yet here I was, caught in the gravity of someone who made me reconsider all my rules.
This conversation needed a proper time and place, not in the aftermath of our closeness but in the clear light of day. It wasn’t just about wanting to be seen with Isabella. I wanted to be chosen by her, publicly and privately.
Navigating these feelings felt like walking a tightrope—exhilarating but perilous. And as we merged back into the real world, I had some thinking to do. Was I content in the shadows, or did I deserve more? The thought lingered, a challenge to my own worth and what I truly wanted from Isabella and myself.
TWENTY-TWO
ISABELLA
The Mirage Guild was a hive of activity, a symphony of last-minute preparations echoing through its ornate halls before the grand opening tomorrow. Moments like this, the calm before the storm, they were what I cherished. It was the culmination of all the overanalyzing and stress, the tangible manifestation of our collective dreams and hard work.
And it was breathtakingly beautiful.
