by Katee Robert
“Noemi.”
She sat back and forced herself to meet his gaze, knowing he’d see everything frantically circling through her mind. Isaac searched her face, his brows lowering. “Noemi,” he said again, as if she’d confessed everything in the space of a heartbeat. “Is this a shrine to the past, or is this you hoping for the future?”
“I don’t know.” The truth ripped itself from her lips, shredding them both in the process. She had no right to offer hope. She wasn’t her own person, and neither was Isaac for that matter. He owed his allegiance to the Crown, not to her. The old saying that a man could not serve two masters applied to both of them, no matter how much he liked to put the responsibility for their current situation on her. Their relationship had been built with the knowledge that they’d never be able to put each other first. Ever.
Convenient of Isaac to forget that when it suited him, but Noemi didn’t have that luxury.
None of that changed this moment, the truth that lay between them like a living thing. “I don’t know,” she repeated. “How could we have a future?”
“That’s the question, isn’t it?” But the anger was gone from his face, replaced by some emotion she didn’t dare name. He slid an arm under her ass and climbed to his feet easily, as if she was a child instead of a grown woman. Isaac walked unerringly around the furniture in the living room, down the short hall, and into her bedroom. There were different, smaller, suites for the other members of the Huxley Family when they were called upon to visit the palace. This one was hers and hers alone.
Isaac kicked the door shut behind him and laid her on the bed with far more care than he’d touched her with up to this point. He tossed the condom onto the comforter next to her, his gaze going hot and weighted as he slid to his knees next to the bed.
She propped herself onto her elbows and looked down her body at him, her heart in her throat. “I thought you were going to take it out on me.”
“Believe me, Noemi, I’m going to take everything I’m feeling out on you tonight. Starting with your pretty pink pussy. You’re still aching for me, don’t bother to deny it.” He leaned down and his breath caressed her clit. “And I’m dying for a taste.”
4
Isaac knew better than anyone what a bitch hope could be. Hope dangled possibilities in front of a man, and then snatched them away the second he forgot himself and reached for the thing he wanted most. What Isaac wanted most? The one thing he’d spent far too many years chasing with no hope of calling her his own in any real sense of the word?
Noemi.
Always Noemi.
She’d never understood that he’d throw everything away if it meant they were together, had never been able to rationalize that level of sacrifice for personal happiness. Her loyalty, her marriage to duty, they were both things he’d loved and hated about her in equal measure. They made her the woman she was, but they also meant she was forever destined to walk away from him.
One day it’d be for good.
Except…
Damn her for giving him the smallest sliver of hope. She wasn’t willing to admit what the condom meant, the one she kept stashed in their favorite place to fuck like some kind of good luck charm that would bring him back to her. Fine. She didn’t have to admit it. He knew. He always knew what she was thinking, sometimes even before she did.
She missed him. She wanted this thing back between them.
It didn’t matter. It couldn’t matter. Isaac had spent years being her dirty little secret and he’d never go back to that role, not even to keep her in his life.
Maybe it was time to change the rules, to burn their expectations to the ground and redefine the future. It might not work. In fact, he was pretty damn sure it’d blow up in his face. What were three days in the face of a lifetime of conditioning?
He wouldn’t know until he tried.
Isaac grabbed Noemi’s hips and yanked her to the edge of the bed. The easier to get to her. He slid his hands beneath her ass and lifted her to his mouth. The first taste of her… Fuck, but the taste of her always drove him out of his goddamn mind. He devoured her in long licks, driven on by her cries of pleasure and her heels digging into the back of his shoulders. She was drenched from her earlier orgasm and he fucked her with his tongue, needing to be closer, to imprint himself onto her skin.
He moved up to roll her clit between his lips, sucking lightly, teasing her.
And Noemi, his stubborn, precious Noemi, lost the last of her filters. She reached over her head to clench the comforter, her eyes all blue fire and need, her lips moving as sinful gasping words slipped free. “It was always you, Isaac. Damn it, but it was always you for me.”
The ache in his chest compounded, brought on the knowledge that she might be telling him her deepest truth, but once the pleasure passed, it wouldn’t change anything.
It doesn’t matter. It’s the truth now, and fuck all the rest.
He sucked her clit harder, setting his teeth against the sensitive bundle of nerves, and her back bowed. “Oh, fuck, don’t stop. Make me come, baby. You know how I like it.”
Yeah, he did. He really, really fucking did.
Isaac kept up the onslaught, watching her all the while, waiting for the exact moment when her orgasm swept her under. Noemi never looked more wild and true than when she was coming, and he used to live for those moments where her masks came crashing down.
Just. Like. Now.
She came with his name on her lips, the most beautiful thing he’d heard in far too long. He knew better than to expect her to be satisfied with that, though. Not his Noemi, hungry for every last moment of pleasure, needing to pack each moment with him so full of memories as if that would ward off the reality she always chose to go back to
Noemi wiggled out of his grasp and sat up to claim his mouth. She wrapped herself around him, delving between his lips as if savoring the way she tasted on his tongue. Isaac let her urge him up and onto the bed on his back. She touched him everywhere, each move filled with a desperation that only the feeling imploding inside him could match. He stroked his hands down her back to grip her ass, grinding her pussy against his cock. It would be the simplest thing in the world to lift her a little, to change the angle, to slide inside…
Goddamn it.
“Condom, Noemi. Unless you want me to fuck you bare.”
She hesitated. Noemi actually fucking hesitated before she gave herself a shake. “Right. Condom. Of course you’re right.”
Because they weren’t faithful only to each other anymore.
Isaac could have told her that it’d been damn near a year since he gave up fucking away the memory of her, he could have mentioned that he’d been tested since and come up clean, he could have said a lot of things. But it would have invited a response from her, and for all his shit talking, he couldn’t stand the thought that she’d left some fuck’s bed in the country to come to this one with him in the palace. She was her own woman, but some things just weren’t worth knowing.
She ripped open the foil package and shifted back far enough that she could roll the condom over his cock. Noemi’s breath caught, just like it always had when she’d performed this act before. That little hitch of breath slayed him.
Fuck it all, but he never stopped loving her.
He clenched his jaw to keep the damning words inside. If this was goodbye, then it would be one for the record books. Isaac ran his hand down the center of her body, between her breasts, over her stomach, around to grip her hip. “Ride me, Noemi. My cock’s yours for the night. Don’t let it go to waste.”
“Never.” She reached between them and adjusted his angle to notch him at her entrance. She planted her hands on his chest and sank onto him in a smooth movement. Her eyes fluttered shut and she seemed to force them open. “Oh, Isaac.”
He knew what she meant. It was too good, too perfect. There should have been some kind of indicator that this was over, that it was different from all the times before, that they no longer belonged
to each other.
Instead, it was just as good as it had always been, their bodies moving together in a rhythm as natural as breathing.
Noemi rolled her hips. She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, all moon-pale skin and shining blond hair, like some celestial goddess had wandered into his life and taken a shine to him. Five years spent worshipping at the altar of Noemi, and even on his darkest days, he wouldn’t take a second of it back.
He shifted his grip so he could press his thumb against her clit. Each stroke rubbed her against his touch, and the breathy moan she gave was music to his battered soul. “Tell me you missed me, Noemi.”
“I missed you, Isaac.”
He’d give up damn near anything for a lifetime of the way she said his name when his cock was buried inside her.
It felt so damn good to have her clamped around him, to see the pleasure written across her features and know he was the cause, to hear those sexy little fucking whimpers she made every time her clit dragged against his thumb.
Isaac fought for control, but he and control hadn’t been on speaking terms since he walked into the Huxley suite. “Tell me you love me, Noemi. Because we both fucking know that you do.” He arched up and clasped the back of her neck with his free hand. The shock parting her lips hurt more than it had right to, and Isaac kissed her to prevent her from answering. Better to lose himself in her taste, in the wild stroke of her tongue against his, than to let her admit that she didn’t love him anymore.
That maybe she never had.
No. It was real. It might have gone down in flames, but it was real.
Pleasure sparked down Isaac’s spine, drawing up his balls. He wouldn’t last long, not with Noemi, not like this, but he fought back his orgasm, needing this to last as long as possible, to hold off the inevitable conversation to come. The one where they went through the motions of hurting each other again, all for the sake of some bullshit he wasn’t even sure he believed in anymore.
He toppled Noemi off him and climbed to his feet beside the bed. She flipped onto her stomach and went up on her hands and knees, anticipating him. It should have been easier like this, without his soul laid bare for her every time their eyes met, but nothing was easy with Noemi anymore. Isaac guided his cock into her again, and she arched her back, nearly sending him through the roof.
He picked up his pace, fucking her just shy of brutally, and she slammed back into him with every stroke, urging him on with words and her body. “Yes, yes, don’t stop, yes, Isaac.”
Her pussy clamped hard around him and he was lost. Isaac drove into her once, again, and a third time, coming with a curse. He dropped down next to her on the bed and rolled onto his back. Noemi shifted, giving him a sated smile. “That was some A-plus fucking. It definitely deserves a marriage proposal.” Her eyes went wide. “God, forget I said that.”
It was too late. The memory of how they’d ended so many lovemaking sessions that it had become almost a joke between them—a joke with teeth but a joke nonetheless.
Marry me, Noemi.
Maybe next year, Isaac.
But next year never happened, and now here they were. Isaac sat up. What the hell was he thinking, fucking Noemi again? Except it wasn’t fucking, and you damn well know it. He shut the snide ass voice down just like he had countless times in the past. “No, Noemi, I’m not going to ask you to marry me. I might be an asshole, but I’m not an idiot. You were never going to.”
“That’s not fair.” She sat up and pushed her hair back from her face. “I loved you, Isaac. So much that some days I couldn’t breathe past it. If things were different—”
“Save it.” He held up a hand, her words bouncing around the inside of his skull. Loved. Loved, not love. He knew it. People didn’t stay gone for years on end if they were still harboring a flame for their ex. But somehow hearing her use the past tense brought the sheer stupidity of this whole evening home. “This was a mistake.”
“What?”
He was already on his feet and heading for the living room. “You heard me. There’s no fucking you out of my system, and fucking you only makes this whole thing worse. You chose, Noemi. You chose Huxley over me, and I respected that choice enough to let you walk.” He grabbed his pants off the floor and turned to find her standing in the doorway, her expression lost. “Unless you changed your mind.”
Her lower lip trembled. “I have responsibilities.”
“Yeah, I got that. We don’t have to hash it out again.” He jerked on his clothes, hating the way she watched him, hating the silence that sprang between them, so thick and poisonous with things left unsaid.
No, not unsaid. They’d said everything there was to say. Over and over and over again.
No longer. “I’ll call in my favor with Galen and get someone else to cover your security detail.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that.” He headed for the door, leaving his still-bleeding heart on the floor behind him. “Goodbye, Noemi. I sincerely fucking hope I never see you again.”
5
Noemi stood there for a long time, staring at the door Isaac had very carefully not slammed behind him when he left her. For good this time. There should be something, some kind of relief or clean pain or…
But no.
All she felt was a hole gaping open beneath her feet, one that would send her spiraling into darkness for years to come. There was no happy ending here. She likely didn’t deserve one.
It hadn’t been like this last time.
When Noemi cut things off with Isaac, she’d been heartbroken, but a tiny kernel of hope existed that they’d find a way. That kernel might have shrunk as weeks turned into months into years, but it still existed, something she could set her course by. A tiny question of “What if?”
What if they found a way?
What if they made things work?
What if love really could conquer all?
Now she knew the answer. They couldn’t. Things wouldn’t. And love was only as strong as the two people willing to put the work into it.
She walked back to the bedroom, but the rumpled bedspread only reinforced the fact that she would be sleeping alone… forever. Noemi had embraced the comforting lie that someday she’d marry—it was expected, after all—but in the wake of her last time with Isaac, she couldn’t stand the thought of another man’s hands on her. Of sharing her bed, her life, her future with anyone but him.
“What am I doing?” She shook her head, and then did it again. No clarity came, but through the fog of her jumbled thoughts, one word rose to the surface. No.
“No,” she said aloud.
She had sacrificed everything for her Family. She had put her happiness and her personal desires on hold to ensure that Huxley didn’t go under in the wake of her father’s treason. Two years later they were fine. They were flourishing.
If she couldn’t follow her heart’s path now, she’d never be able to do it.
The path forward lay littered with pitfalls and one wrong step could send them tumbling over the edge but…
She looked at the bed again, the memory of what she and Isaac had done superimposing itself over the emptiness now. If she didn’t try, she would spend the rest of her life regretting that choice. She would resent her Family for being the excuse she used to push Isaac away once and for all.
“I love him,” she said to the empty room.
Noemi was no child. She knew that love wasn’t a recipe for lasting happiness, but after nearly a decade of knowing Isaac, she knew Isaac. If they could navigate the first step forward, they would carve out their own path. Together.
This might be her only chance to see if it was even possible.
She rushed into her closet and threw on the first thing she found—a dress that wasn’t the least bit appropriate for this time of day. Noemi barely glanced at her shoes. She could sprint in heels, but she didn’t want to take the time to put them on. In her head, a clock ticked down, marking the growing distan
ce between her soul and Isaac’s. Her opportunity was slipping away. If she didn’t get to him now, she was certain he would never give her another opportunity to get the jumbled words in her chest out.
Noemi burst through her door and down the hallway. As she left the wing with all the Family suites, part of her registered that people were in the halls and staring at her disheveled appearance, but the rest of her was so focused on finding Isaac that she didn’t give a damn. Each smack of her bare feet against the tiled floor became his name.
Isaac. Isaac. Isaac.
She flung herself around a corner, heading for the section of the palace that housed the staff and the security headquarters, and caught sight of him farther down. He stood a head taller than anyone around him, and moved with a purpose she would have had a hard time matching if she wasn’t so determined to reach him. Even so, he would outpace her in seconds and once he reached the locked door of the security staff rooms, she would lose him.
Noemi gathered what was left of the breath in her lungs and shouted, “Isaac! Isaac, stop!”
The handful of people in the hallway scattered, pressing themselves against the wall as she sprinted past. They didn’t leave, though. This gossip was too juicy to pass up, the Head of the Huxley Family causing a scene and chasing down Isaac Kozlov.
He stopped and turned slowly to face her, his expression thunderous. “Go back to your rooms, Lady Huxley.”
“Fuck that.” She skidded to a stop in front of him. “I love you. I love you and I’m sorry and I’m a fool for thinking there was anyone out there for me but you. It’s you, Isaac. It’s always been you, and it will always be you.” He gave her nothing, but that was okay. He’d put himself out for her again and again and again over the years, and she’d always held part of herself back, had always known that it couldn’t be forever.
That ended now.
She went to her knees in front of him. “In the time I’ve loved you, you’ve asked me to marry you five hundred and twenty-four times.” It used to be a joke that was never quite a joke. He’d look at her with so much love and propose, and she’d deflect the conversation to safer topics. Every. Single. Time. No more.