Chapter 67

Isabella’s POV

With shaky hands, I took the blindfold from Levi’s grasp. The fabric felt featherlight against my fingers, soft like cotton, eerily reminiscent of the night I had spent with Mr. L. I had confided in him about the things that stirred my desires, but never Levi. And yet, here he was, holding an object so intimately tied to my pleasures. How did he know? Had he been watching me more closely than I realized?

I shook the thought away. Perhaps I was overthinking. I think the exhaustion of the night was starting to make me lose touch on reality.

"Sir, this will taint our professional relationship," I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper, betraying the turmoil ravaging through me.

Levi caught my trembling hands, his grip warm and firm, grounding me in the moment. The blindfold lay between us, like a chasm. As if it could shift our worlds from what it had been to something entirely new.

"Do you want our relationship to be professional forever?" he asked, his tone low and rich, dripping with something that sent a shiver down my spine.

I parted my lips, unsure of how to answer. His fingers traced lazy patterns over the fabric in my hands, and the gentle caress sent a spark of heat straight to my core. My thighs instinctively pressed together, as if that could quell the aching need building inside me.

"It’s not about what I want, sir," I said, my breath hitching slightly.

"That’s where you have it wrong, Isabella," he murmured, inching closer. "It is about what you want.”

I swallowed hard. "But sir—"

“Answer the question, Isabella?”

I looked away from him, shaking my head. Then, as if his face were a magnet drawing me back, I looked up again. “No, but…”

"Shh," he interrupted, his voice a command wrapped in a promise of pleasure.

With deliberate slowness, he took the blindfold from my hands and lifted it toward my face. His fingers skimmed my skin as he secured it in place, and the moment my sight was stolen, my other senses sharpened. The scent of his cologne enveloped me—rich, sophisticated, intoxicating. I could feel the warmth of his body near mine, the heat radiating between us like a force of gravity. I could taste my own wanton need and also his. It felt like I had been transported to another world where the pleasure I could have was the only thing that existed.

A helpless sigh left my lips, betraying just how much I wanted this despite all the reasons I shouldn’t. The awareness of our transgression only made the hunger inside me burn brighter. My body was already reacting to him, my panties damp with anticipation. The fatigue I had carried all day vanished; it felt as though the night was just beginning.

Then, without warning, Levi shifted away. I felt the loss of his heat like a sudden gust of cold air. A moment later, the car door opened, and for a heartbeat, panic seized me.

Where was he going? Had I misread everything?

I held my breath until I heard the distant click of the driver’s side door opening. Then the low hum of the engine filled the silence. Relief flooded me, followed immediately by a sharp thrill of excitement. He was in control now. I was blindfolded, trapped in anticipation of what was to come.

"Sir… where are we going?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady as I sat up on the seat.

"Relax, Isabella," he said smoothly. "You’re safe with me."

Safe. The word should have soothed me, but it only heightened the tension winding through my body. My fear had nothing to do with safety. It had everything to do with the hunger gnawing at me, the desire pulsing between my thighs as the car picked up speed. There was something reckless about the way he drove—fast, relentless, in control. And it thrilled me knowing he was just as eager to have me as I was so much so he was slowly relinquishing his mask of control. My body reacted instinctively, my breath coming quicker, my pulse racing to match the car’s velocity. Did he know what this was doing to me? Did he feel it too?

I clenched my fists, trying to calm the storm inside me. The anticipation was unbearable.

And then, suddenly, the car lurched to a stop.

I stiffened. We hadn’t arrived—at least, I didn’t think we had. It hasn’t even been up to five minutes. Maybe he was taking me to another hotel close by, but…

A moment passed, then another. I heard his door open, followed by the sound of footsteps crunching against gravel. My pulse pounded in my ears as I waited, blind and vulnerable. Then the passenger door creaked open, and I felt the shift of the car as he climbed back in.

"Sir?" I whispered, my voice barely audible. ‘Where are we?”

I felt him beside me, his presence knocking the air out of my lungs. Immediately, his fingers found mine, tracing along my skin as he leaned in so close I could feel his breath ghost over my lips.

"We are not there yet," he murmured. "Not even close."

The darkness behind the blindfold felt infinite, stretching out in all directions, leaving me suspended in an intoxicating mix of fear and yearning. My breaths came shallow, my pulse an erratic drum against my ribs.

"Then why did you stop?" My voice was barely a whisper, hesitant yet laced with need. "Can I remove the blindfold please?"

A low chuckle rumbled through the air, sending a shiver down my spine. "No, you cannot."

Then I heard it—The car door shut with a quiet finality, sealing us in, shutting out the rest of the world. The air thickened with something primal, something electric, making it impossible to focus on anything but the man who sat beside me, his presence dominating every inch of the space.

"You ask too many questions, Isabella," he murmured, his voice a slow, velvety caress. "This isn’t work."

I chuckled. "It's hard for me to separate my personal life from work, seeing as I barely have a personal life. You know." I swallowed. “not that I'm complaining. I do enjoy my work.”

"I bet you do," he said, and I could feel his smile. I longed to see that gorgeous smile on his face.

My heart pounded so violently I thought it might escape my chest. My fingers twitched, aching to pull off the blindfold—to reclaim even the smallest illusion of control. But before I could act on the thought, he moved.

Strong hands gripped my ankles, dragging me effortlessly to the edge of the seat. A startled gasp escaped my lips as he forced my back flush against the cool leather, spreading my legs apart with a deliberate, commanding touch. My breath hitched, heat surging through me as I felt his fingers skim the inside of my thigh, slow, teasing, possessive.

Then, warmth—hot, damp, torturous air—pressed against my core as he blew on the opening beneath my panties. The thin fabric did little to dull the sensation; instead, the cool air sent waves of intense arousal coursing through me, my wet panties only heightening the need. His hand slipped under me, kneading my ass with an urgency that unleashed a flood of juices down my thighs.

“I cannot resist your smell, Isabella.” His voice was raw, his breath fanning against my sensitive skin. “Your arousal is driving me crazy.”

A moan tore from my throat, unbidden and uncontrollable, as I clutched his suit jacket for dear life. He was on his knees now, stripping off his suit with swift, practiced movements. The scent of his cologne mixed with something darker, more intense, making my head spin. Then, in an instant, his mouth was back between my legs, teasing, tormenting, devouring.

“I’ve missed you so much.” His voice was hoarse, desperate. “God, you drive me mad. I hardly recognize myself when you’re near.”

His words sent a new wave of heat crashing through me, the kind of heat that left me trembling, barely able to breathe. My clit pulsed, an aching need tightening low in my belly, and I bit my lip, desperate to hold back the scream threatening to spill from my throat.

I tried to close my legs, an instinctive reaction to the overwhelming pleasure, but his hands were firm, unyielding, keeping me open for him. Then again he blew a slow, agonizing breath against my slick, trembling center, the sensation making me whimper as the damp fabric of my panties clung to me, pressing against my most sensitive spot. It was maddening, unbearable, the kind of torment that made my body quake with need.

“Breathe for me, Bella baby.”

My heart stuttered at the way he said it, so smooth, so devastatingly seductive. Bella baby. My head spun, my stomach knotted with desire, my entire body thrumming with anticipation.

Breathe…

“Sir…” I whimpered, my nails digging into his arm as another gust of cool air ghosted over me.

This time, the sensation was different, sharper. I gasped, my body jerking as the realization hit me—he had shifted my panties to the side. The vulnerability of it sent a thrill through me, an intoxicating mix of excitement and helplessness. My fingers clenched around his wrist, nails sinking into flesh as I tried to ground myself, but it was useless. I was already too far gone. It felt even better not being drunk, fully aware of all the things he was doing to me. I never thought it was possible to have it better.

“You feel so warm,” His voice was thick with hunger, each word a dark promise. “I can’t wait to taste all of you.”

A desperate moan tore from my lips as I surrendered, lost to the fire he ignited inside me.

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