In the dining room, a woman's seductive gasps intertwined with a man's hoarse groans.
With each rise and fall, Isabella's peach-like breasts swayed like trembling jelly.
Today, she was unusually wet.
Perhaps the woman-on-top position made it easier to flow.
Or maybe the thrill of betraying Alexander with Julian excited and aroused her intensely.
Another possibility was that she didn't actually dislike Julian.
She could feel her juices flowing from her core, trickling down her legs onto the floor.
His resistance had vanished, replaced by wild desire. His body was already moving in sync with hers, thrusting into her depths.
She lowered her head and kissed him deeply.
During a brief moment of eye contact, Julian seemed about to speak, but she sealed his lips with another searing kiss.
Soon, she was nearing her climax. Her moans grew louder, her inner walls tightening around him. "Mmm... I'm close—" she cried out, finally clutching Julian's neck as her body convulsed in release.
After the involuntary tremors subsided, she collapsed limply against him.
Having already climaxed once from oral, Julian hadn't ejaculated yet. Her tightness almost pushed him over the edge, but he held back. Then—
Isabella slid off him. Her legs weak, she crumpled to the floor, drenched in sweat. She glanced up at Julian. His erection remained rigid. He stared back at her, slightly dazed.
Is it over? His eyes seemed to ask.
Isabella crawled toward him, untied the ropes around his ankles, then moved behind the chair to free his wrists.
"I'm too exhausted to move. If you want—" She started to climb back onto him, but Julian shoved her away.
The push was forceful, sending Isabella sprawling onto the floor.
Her elbow struck the hard surface, drawing a sharp hiss of pain.
Julian stood, pulled up his pants, and glared at her angrily. Yet no words of accusation came—he had been just as consumed moments before.
He turned to leave. "Julian," Isabella called out, "you can come over these three days."
She meant while Alexander was away. What for needed no explanation.
Julian left without looking back.
Isabella remained seated on the floor, staring blankly at his retreating figure.
——
Back at the hotel, Julian expected guilt over betraying his brother to keep him awake. But exhaustion took over. After a shower, he lay down and fell asleep quickly.
The next morning, a dream startled him awake. In it, he hadn't left. Instead, he lifted Isabella from the floor, laid her on the dining table, parted her legs, and plunged back into her tight warmth—
He woke at the moment of climax, his underwear and sheets damp and sticky.
The rest of the morning passed in a daze. His mind circled one question: Why did she do it?
His brother called for a routine check on Isabella. Yesterday, Julian could honestly report taking care of her meals. But now, after one night, everything had changed. Guilty, he lied, "Oh, I overslept today. Haven't gone over yet. Isabella said yesterday she can manage on her own. Yeah, I'll check on her soon. I'll call you after."
Isabella had no phone. Since his brother left, updates came only through Julian. Alexander claimed Isabella disliked phones, so she never used one. This struck Julian as odd.
He needed to understand the true nature of his brother's relationship with Isabella.
He drove his Hummer at a moderate pace toward the Sullivan mansion.
He hesitated at the gate before steeling himself to enter.
Crossing the courtyard, he stepped into the main house.
Isabella sat on the living room sofa, staring blankly at the turned-off TV. She showed little reaction to his arrival, as if expecting him.
Her eyes fixed on him.
Julian stopped about six meters away. "Have you eaten?" he asked stiffly.
Isabella nodded. "Yes."
Julian felt intensely uncomfortable. "You seem fine. I'll go—"
As he turned, Isabella spoke suddenly, "The drug I gave you was a sedative your brother used to calm me down during my... episodes."
Julian frowned.
"I'm not here by choice," she said to his back. "He has something on me."
Julian turned to face her. "Impossible. My brother would never do that!"
Using blackmail to keep a woman? Unthinkable for his proud brother.
"What does he have on you?" he demanded.
Isabella met his gaze for a moment, then whispered, "Come closer. I'll tell you."
Julian doubted she could drug him again. He approached. "Speak."
She said nothing. Seated, her gaze naturally drifted to his crotch.
"You—" Julian's fair face flushed crimson with anger. "What else do you want?!"
He turned to leave, but Isabella rushed forward and grabbed his hand.
Julian looked back. She asked, "Did you come today to understand why I did it, or—"
"To have sex with me?"
Julian's mind reeled. He—
When her eyes dropped to his groin, he had hardened instantly. Now he was rigid as steel. Was it the drug? Or something else making him react this way near her?
Furious, he shook her off violently.
"Ah!" Isabella cried out as she fell back onto the sofa, hitting her injured elbow. She clutched her wrist, hissing in pain.
Julian saw the large bruise and broken skin on her elbow—likely from his push yesterday. A flicker of guilt crossed his eyes. Blood seeped from the wound. "Are you okay?" he asked, softening.
This was his house. He knew where the first aid kit was. He retrieved it from the storage room, opened it, and sat beside Isabella to clean and dress the wound.
As he applied antiseptic ointment with a cotton swab, Isabella's other hand rested on his inner thigh. "You haven't answered me."
Was he here to uncover her motives or to sleep with her? He hadn't replied.
Julian's gaze shifted slowly from her elbow to her face. He looked at her, his pupils trembling, his soul quaking.
Isabella had her answer. She reached up to touch his cheek, leaned in, and kissed him. Gently, she pushed him back onto the sofa, her slender hand slipping into his pants to grasp the burning, rigid length.
——