chapter 10:Hugo

Isobel's little gasps and shallow breathing, which begged for my eyes to note her smooth cleavage, didn't help at all to save my sanity. Everything she did tonight made me want her. From her smiles to the way she smelled. Or how she looked sexy, and yet, she had that air of innocence about her. She was lethal to my health the moment I laid eyes on her this evening. Even her nervousness only added to my already combustible body.

For a man like me, who wasn't capable of denying himself anything, it had been a hardship to harness this perfervid need to have her on the spot, which meant the driveway and with all of my security detail waiting patiently on us. However, all I had been able to think about was to devour her lips that reminded me of soft, pink petals and her body that was covered in a sexy gown that accentuated her best features. I had wanted to press her against the side of the car, nestle myself in between the warm crevice of her thighs before I hooked her leg above my hips and plundered into her wet, succulent depths. I wanted her moaning my name, begging me never to stop until I came inside of her and was drained to the last drop.

My passions were known across country, yet I always liked to preserve a little privacy for my mistresses, thus displaying them out in the open wasn't something I enjoyed. At the end of the day, I was a hot-blooded French man who admired beauty, but most of all, I was a possessive lover. I didn't like to share what was mine, even if it was for onlookers. Yet the desire to take her against my car, to hell with the rest of the people watching, had dimmed my mood.

I was a man in control, and when I felt this control being threatened by my passions, it became bothersome. I even found it ludicrous. However, my body demanded what it wanted, and as much as I wanted to put a wedge between us and keep her at arm's length, I knew I had to remedy this need soon or I wouldn't be responsible for my actions. I needed her, in any way I could. Period.

With my sour mood and a flighty business deal, it had worsened when I saw her laugh and gaze those mesmerizing eyes towards Julien. My limits were sorely tested.

Julien was one of my closest friends, and though I knew he was a serial flirt and wouldn't dare take a woman of mine, it didn't escape my notice that Isobel had a welcoming look on her, like an open invitation for him to take her. A look she hadn't even dared give me, much to my disapproval.

There was no way Julien and I ever became competitive when it came to women. In the business arena? Sure, most men were. But never with women. There was a silent, honorable understanding between us, one that was respected just as much as we valued ourselves as business partners as well as rivals. Yet, there I was tonight contemplating if I should rip his throat out just to wipe off that shoddy smile he had for Isobel.

I couldn't pinpoint the reason why she made me feel so volatile towards my friend. However, I was betting this odd hankering for her would dissipate once I'd had my fill of her.

Six months, day in and day out, she was mine. I was quite certain that, by the end of the fifth month, I would be counting down the hours until we would be free of each other. These affairs always tended to go sour after the third month; subsequently, I knew I shouldn't bother pondering about such trivial feelings because my time was valuable.

"Ma belle, are you ready?"

She nodded, though her eyes told me she had reservations. In the back recesses of my mind, I had convinced myself she would come out of this bargain a better lover for her next conquest—skillful and knowing the value of seducing your lover. Moreover, when the time came, she would effortlessly surrender herself to me. The contract be damned.

Appearing relaxed, as if I had all the time in the world lounging here as I watched her with intensity, was becoming difficult every second that ticked by. Isobel stood with feminine grace, though evidently lacking in confidence, as she lowered the zipper on the side of her dress. This needed to change. She was a beautiful woman who had no idea the kind of power she possessed in her beauty itself. Her tantalizing eyes alone could hypnotize any human being. Her fire and sass came to life when she was in public, but in the bedroom, she was the total opposite. She would be confident in her own skin, dressed or sans clothing. I would make sure of it.

"Lentement." (Slowly.) "Don't take off your dress with abandonment. Let my eyes savor every inch of your skin."

Her skin was perfectly tanned. The shade wasn't too dark nor was it pale. It seemed to glow, and when she gradually lowered her dress to reveal her perky breasts, my cock pulsed so badly that instead of pouring myself another glass of whiskey, I simply went straight to the bottle, helping myself until I felt the fiery sting burning in my stomach.

Her rosebuds puckered when she saw how hard I was. I didn't dare say a damn word, nor did I move because I was too skeptical of whether I could control myself. Our eyes clashed, and I felt her emotions through the few feet separating us. Then, when she bit her lip, there was something familiar about it. It was puzzling to figure out what it was, and at the same time, felt so intensely arousing.

"Keep going," I softly commanded as she lowered the dress past her hips, showing me the soft curves on her hips and her flat abdomen. After stripping her dress, leaving only her tiny, rectangular, flimsy thong, I took a moment to let my eyes worship her. Her black, strappy stilettos emphasized her toned, slender gams.

"Venez ici." (Come here.)

There was hesitation in her eyes before she came to her senses and did as I had asked of her. Her shallow breaths, lip biting, and lip licking added to my lust.

"Come a little closer... until your legs touch my knees," I said roughly, feeling the rapid pumps of my heart and the adrenaline rushing into my system. When I felt the soft brush of her leg against mine, even with my trousers on, I could still feel the burn of it. I felt exhilarated. "Part your legs, Isobel."

Stifling my groan when my eyes roved towards her heavenly, parted warmth, I set my glass aside, my eyes focused on the intricate, lace-covered cunt. I reached my finger out and traced the fine edgings of lace, where it was against the outer lips of her pussy.

"You feel very soft," I rasped out, hoping at the same time I wouldn't lose control, not tonight anyway.

"Are you wet for me, mon bel amant?" (My beautiful lover.) She shivered before she gave a small, reluctant nod, closing her eyes as if she was ashamed of herself for admitting she was aroused for me.

"How many men have touched you this way, Isobel?"

"Before you..." she said with difficulty, "there was only one."

Mon dieu, but she was perfect. There was nothing more arousing to a man's eye than a woman who was in denial of herself, wanting a man reluctantly.

Pushing it further, my tongue curled on top of my bottom lip as I stared into her eyes while my finger went underneath the lace and felt her skin, trailing it farther into her pussy until I felt its hot, inviting essence.

"Isobel," I groaned out her name as I shut my lids close, tormented at the thought that I wouldn't get to feel her tonight. For a week, I had lusted in vain; exercising my frustrations on Chantel and Sherry because I wanted to give Isobel space, for my need to conquer her was so intense. She made me feel like an animal, and I couldn't fathom it. It was disconcerting, yet I couldn't stay away.

Miséricorde! (Mercy.) I thought as my finger flicked past her wet entrance.

Her breathing was loud and in shallow pants. Her body was on fire as she trembled from my touch. And I was at the edge of being tested to the limit.

"Hugo!" she hissed before her knees buckled and she landed somewhat sitting on her knees while her hands gripped my shoulders.

"Oui, ma belle. Tell me what you want." Hunger roared in my veins as it rung into my ears, into my heart.

Dieu, but she is so beautiful, I thought as I gazed upon her delicate face, fighting to hold on, fighting for control.

"Let me touch you," I breathed into her ear as my thumb circled her entrance. "I want to feel how tight you are. How your cunt will grip. How it feels when it envelopes my length, blanketing it with warmth and slickness."

"Sorry, I can't. That's not part of the deal, Hugo."

Something in her voice triggered my male pride. I knew she wasn't punishing me because she had been upfront when we had signed the contracts, yet I couldn't help the feeling of rejection. It was as if she'd slapped me, wounding me as a man.

"Très bien." I took a sharp breath as I pulled my finger off her, and I felt her freeze, glittering eyes staring at me in shock. "The deck below are bedrooms. Head straight all the way to the end. You can go rest. I have some work to do."

She gasped, mouth slightly parted. "You're already dismissing me?"

I was taking a break—a hiatus for my troubling thoughts —but she need not know that. "Yes. You are dismissed." Hurt bore openly in her eyes, but I steeled myself, unwilling to feel her pain. "Goodnight, Isobel."

"Six months..." she hissed with passion. "And I won't ever think about you."

Ah, she had claws. Good. A woman who prided herself wouldn't dare fall for a man like me. Her spirited feistiness gave me assurance that there wouldn't be another Louise incident.

"Sleep well."

She groaned like a woman in rage, ready to strike, instead she jumped off me, scrambling to get away from me, looking as beautiful as ever in her fiery display, walking away in only her thong.

Isobel Callas.

Every day you are becoming harder to resist, I thought bleakly before slumping into the couch and closing my eyes.

"Baiser tout," (Fuck everything.) I grunted out, hating my life.

I brought my finger, soaked in her essence, in between my lips. She tasted just as I had thought she would—an aphrodisiac.

The short spat I'd had with Julien earlier brought back everything I wanted to forget.

"You don't want this to be another Louise, Hugo. She's too innocent, and you'll end up hurting her!" Julien surely hadn't held anything back tonight.

Louise Deniau.

I could totally understand Julien's concerns since there was something about Isobel that reminded me of Louise. However, Isobel wasn't Louise. She had fire when Louise had been pure through and through. Her meekness and her ways of always wanting to put me first had been her weaknesses.

Funny how things played out tonight. It had been ten years after all.

It wasn't b long before I felt the guilt consume me once more. I had been warned, and yet I hadn't believed what my father had said. Ultimately, Louise had been the one who'd paid the price for my stupidity.