by Dark Angel
“Isobel, this isn’t your fault. It’s not really Tristan’s fault, either. You know Theo would’ve killed him otherwise. This is the game of war. We’ve been playing it a long time, and it’s coming to an end. You’ll be free soon. And so will Tristan. Just think of that.”
I turn to look at him with my bloodshot eyes. Doesn’t he understand what just happened to me?
“Benny, you don’t get it. Try losing someone you love and then come talk to me. Screw the war. Screw our families. I don’t want any of it anymore, not even Tristan. He should never have done this to me.”
He sets the tray down on the bed and says, “But Isobel, you have to forgive him. He didn’t do it intentionally. Theo was the one that wanted to do it. Blame him.”
His words incense me and make me burn with fresh rage.
I turn on him and say, “Get out of here, Benny. You don’t understand a thing. I don’t want to see you, and I don’t want to see anybody else—especially Tristan.”
And then I turn towards the wall and pull the covers closer to my neck, indicating this conversation is over. He doesn’t know what the fuck he’s talking about.
In the coming days, I eat a little bit more, but I don’t leave the room. I stay in bed and hours turn into hours and days turn into days, and I don’t how long I’ve been here, and I don’t care.
In the back of my mind, I’m starting to think that I have to get away from this fortress. The problem is I can’t go home.
I can’t trade one prison for another.
As my heart aches for Theo, my thoughts lend themselves toward escaping. Maybe I can be free of all of this.
But then inevitably, I come back to the reality that I love Tristan, and I could never leave him. He’s sewn into my heart like he’s a piece of me.
And Tristan does come to check on me. Almost hourly, he’s opening the door and peeking inside just to see if I’m okay. I know he must be worried sick. I know if he was in this position, I would be worried sick.
But I’m in a harrowing daze, and I barely care or notice that he’s there. Even though the light of our love is pumping hard in my heart still, I don’t want to see him.
Eventually, after I’ve been in bed for what feels like a week, I feel a little life in me one day.
Benny comes in with a tray like usual, and he’s prepared to leave but I say, “Benny, do you think you can do me a favor?”
“Anything, Isobel.”
“Do you think you can get me an espresso? I’d like to wake up.”
He smiles and leaves the room quickly, probably anxious to tell Tristan that I’ve come around.
I get up and slip out of my clothes. I walk around his master suite naked. I pull on Tristan’s oversized robe and go to the window and draw open the curtains—but the light of day is too much at this point. I shut them quickly.
Benny comes back in with a cappuccino, and I take it gratefully.
“Thanks. I’m gonna take a bath,” I tell him.
“Tristan bought you something. It’s on the bed,” he says before leaving.
I drink my cappuccino and think about Tristan. Being in love with him like this is a problem.
I can’t get away from him—nor do I want to. We’re permanently united, and it feels good but scary and intense all the same. I know I can’t stay mad at him, even for this.
I run the bath and walk out to the master suite to see a large box on the bed.
I open it, and there’s a red slip dress inside. He knows I love to wear stuff like this.
There’s also a pair of red-soled black leather heels, and I can’t help but smile.
Fashion will do that to a girl, especially after a week of grieving.
I go back to his en-suite and slip into the bath. I make it warm, almost tepid, like my feelings. I don’t know how to feel anymore. I just lost Theo—and yet I’m still in love with Tristan.
I float in the water, wondering again what it feels like to die. I could just sink underneath the bubbles, and it could be all over.
Why is death constantly swimming in my mind?
I know it comes with the territory of being a Capulet, but still, is this normal?
In the end, I decide it’s because of my upbringing. I’ve been surrounded by death my entire life, if not directly, then by association. I know my father’s a crime lord.
And yet I have hope for the future. Maybe I can escape this life. Maybe I can live like a normal person and not have to be surrounded by crime and murder for the rest of my days.
I get out of the bath and brush my hair. I oil my body and leave my face makeup-free.
Then I go to Tristan’s gift. I slip into the heels. I pull the red slip dress over my head.
It fits like a dream. He knows me too well.
I put on my favorite diamond necklace and then sit on the bed, not knowing what to do next.
I can’t think about meeting Tristan right now. I can’t think about leaving this room and walking through the penthouse and having the guards and all the people stare at me like, This is the girl that’s been grieving for so long.
Being the center of attention is not my thing. A part of me still just wants to disappear back into the blankets and never come out again.
Somebody knocks on the door, and I assume it’s Benny with another espresso.
But it’s Tristan. He peeks his head around the corner and looks at me. And yes, he’s carrying another cappuccino. Thank god, too, because I need it.
He walks in, seeing that I’m up and awake for once.
“Isobel, are you okay?”
I look at him and say, “What kind of question is that? Of course it’s not okay, Tristan. You ruined my life. You stole away the one person that I loved.”
He doesn’t hesitate to walk right in. He leaves the cappuccino on the bedside table and then comes to me. He sits next to me on the bed, and just the smell of him, his masculine scent, and his energy—they overwhelm me.
I’m in love.
But I try to hold back. I’m mad at him, after all.
I sit back and take the cappuccino and sip it. It slowly wakes my body and mind up out from the hazy fog I’ve been stuck underneath.
“Isobel, I know I can’t explain anything to you. You saw exactly what happened. But you have to forgive me and get over it. This is war, after all.”
I ignore him and sip the cappuccino. He watches me intently the entire time. I can’t make eye contact with him, or I know that’ll be it, I’ll melt and give in to him and give him whatever he wants.
He gets up and walks over to the windows to open the curtains. Just as he’s doing so, I say, “No. Please don’t. I’m not ready.”
He comes back to me and has a worried look on his face.
“Isobel, you have to start living again. Theo’s gone.”
I try not to look at him, but I can’t help it. Eventually, I raise my eyes up to his face, and we make eye contact.
Fire.
Ice.
Just like I said, this one moment of eye contact reconnects me with him, and I know that it’s real, and I’m his again forever.
I put the cappuccino down and get up and go to him. I hug him tightly and cry a little bit. I nuzzle into his strong body and feel for once like it’s gonna be okay.
He holds me for a while just like that, our bodies feeling each other again after what feels like an eternity.
And then he puts his strong arms underneath me and picks me up and brings me back to the bed. He lays me down gently and begins to kiss me like he’s never kissed me before.
All the days of being apart are flashing into memory, and all I can think about is him and all he can think about is me.
We need each other to survive.
He peels the red slip dress off of my body, and I feel grateful to be back in his embrace again.
At the same time, I know this is an inescapably deep kind of love—and I just want to fall into him forever.
30
Trist
an
She’s lying on the master bed, looking so sweet and vulnerable. At the same time, I can tell something’s shifted in her. Her eyes aren’t so innocent anymore.
She’s seen too much, and she knows too much.
The image of Theo’s bloodied body comes to my mind, and I know it’s all she’s thinking about, too.
I never should’ve brought her with me that day. It’s a choice I’ll always regret. She didn’t need to see that. It’s obviously shocked and stunned her.
Me? I’m used to killing, murder, and crime. I was raised this way. I learned to tune it out, but my innocent flower hasn’t. She’s been sheltered her whole life—and yet with me, that shelter and those walls are coming down.
She’s learning what it’s like to live in the real world. And, trust me, it’s not all pretty.
Again, I regret the fact that Theo was so intent on killing me. If only he had worked with me a little bit, we could’ve kept Isobel safe together. As it was, he was gonna come for me no matter what, and that meant I had to confront him first.
At least right now, she seems to have come out of her self-imposed shell. I know she needed to mourn and to nurse her wounds, but still, being away from her for so long was the hardest thing I’ve had to do.
I spent days worrying about her, checking on her, wondering if she would ever come out of her grief.
And, to my surprise and delight, here she is, back in my arms. Even if she’s still mad at me, even if she can’t forget what I did to her cousin, I know that she’s mine. She feels this electricity as much as I do. We’re on fire together, and there’s nothing I’d ever do to put that flame out.
It’s eternal, I know.
I lay her back down on the bed and kiss her gently. Those lips. That face. Those eyes. All of it entices me more than ever. She feels like water after a long desert storm. She feels like sunlight after the rain. She feels like everything I need to survive.
I kiss her vehemently. I kiss her cheeks, her eyelashes, her lips, her neck...everywhere. Finally, I trail up his kisses along her sweet little pussy.
“I’ve missed you, baby,” I say, breathing against her warm skin. “Don’t ever leave me again, Isobel. I will find you no matter what.”
She shivers under my touch and at the sound of my words.
I mean everything I said. I will never let her go. I’m obsessed with her. She’s the light of my life, and she always will be. That, I know for sure.
“Tristan,” she moans.
“I’m right here,” I assure her.
Even when she pushed me away, even when she never wanted to see me again, I was right here for her the entire time.
I spread her legs wide. I can’t contain myself for another second.
Fuck foreplay. Fuck making this last forever.
I just need to sink my cock deep inside her now.
I need to feel connected to her. I need to claim her again, to know that she’s mine, and to make her know it, too.
Standing back, I undress and reveal my throbbing cock to her. It’s throbbing so hard.
She looks at me with wide eyes.
With my chiseled torso and twelve-inch cock on display, it feels like an eternity since I’ve been with her like this. She stares at my cock that’s dying to reach into her inner depths.
“Is this what you want, baby?” I ask her.
She nods almost imperceptibly.
“You said you would never run from me again, Isobel. And yet, you did run from me. In your grief, you turned away.”
She’s silent. She just stares at me with love and longing in her eyes.
“Are you sorry?” I ask.
She looks like an angel spread before me—her long legs open, waiting for me to enter her.
She doesn’t miss a beat before responding. “I am sorry Tristan,” she whispers.
“Then say it, Isobel. Tell me that you want my cock deep inside you. Tell me it’s what gives you life. Tell me you’ll never run from me again,” I demand of her.
“It’s true. I’m sorry, Tristan. I won’t run away from you.”
I look at her with a stern expression. What she’s saying is good—but it’s not enough.
“Say it, Isobel. Tell me what I need to hear,” I say.
Instead of saying anything, she climbs to her knees and starts to stroke my cock with her hand. She can hardly wrap her fingers around it. I stand at the edge of the bed and watch her closely as she takes my cock in her mouth, starting to suck the tip of it. This is her way of showing me she’s sorry. And of course, I forgive her. I would always forgive her.
And I’m sorry, too, in my own way. I’m sorry for this damn war and for all the casualties, especially her cousin.
She sucks my cock timidly at first and then becomes fiercer about it. She’s been missing me. She needs me, all of me.
And so, I suck in a deep breath and feel her hot lips swirling around the tip of my cock. She presses on it, taking me down to the back of her throat, and it feels so good. I’m dying to twist my hand through her hair and push it in further, but I don’t. I let her make her apologies to me in this way.
She moans around my length and starts sucking it vigorously.
“Good girl, Isobel. But I still haven’t heard what I need to hear,” I say through clenched teeth.
She sucks it and kisses it, and I can feel her sorrow at having kept herself away from me. She’s trying to make up for it now. Indeed, she’s making up for it, but it’s still not enough. I need to hear her beg.
“Oh fuck, baby, I miss those hot lips around my cock,” I say.
It’s as if she can’t even hear me. She’s just going to town, taking me down her throat so hard she’s gagging.
I look at her face and her beautiful naked body, and I just feel fucking lucky. This girl is mine, all mine.
She sucks me for a long time, and finally, I’ve had enough. I need her now.
I stop her and tilt her face up so she can see my eyes before saying, “Say it, Isobel.”
She cast her eyes down but I tip her head back up so that she’s looking at me. I need to see her eyes. I know she’s hiding from this moment. I know she’s still hiding from me.
One look into my determined expression, and she says, “I want you, Tristan. Please fuck me. I’m begging you.”
That’s all I needed to hear. Those are the magic words.
I quickly spread her legs even farther apart and pull her to the edge of the bed, where I sink my cock deep inside her.
She’s so fucking wet.
“Yes, baby, you are so wet for Daddy. Now I’m gonna make you come hard, to pay for what you did, for shutting me out of your life.”
I thrust into her and she’s crying my name out already.
“Tristan, fuck. I missed you.”
Being with her again is soothing to my soul. I thought I’d lost her there for a minute.
“Good, Isobel. I missed you, too.”
I pump in and out of her for what feels like forever just to get my fill. She’s screaming my name, and digging her nails into my thighs, trying to contain the weight of my enormous cock. But I don’t hear any of it.
All I can hear is the pounding beat of my own heart. All I can think of is how good it feels to be inside her again.
I’ve missed her virgin pussy. It will always be that to me, because I’m the only one to have claimed it, and because it’s so fucking tight.
Breathing harshly, I push into her and just focus on the sweetness of her little cunt.
Then all at once, reality hits me, and I see her straining to contain me.
“Finger your clit, my fucking little slut.”
“Yes, Daddy,” she says, doing what I command.
I watch her finger herself and it makes me fucking happy. Then I torturously slide in and out of her at a faster pace, and she starts to scream. Her eyes roll back in her head, and I know the moment I’ve waited for is happening.
She comes so much around my cock th
at I suddenly fuck her with abandon.
She’s so fucking wet that I can’t hurt her now with the enormity of my size. She can take it because she’s in the realms of bliss and I intend for her never to come back down.
“Tristan, fuck, yes,” she says, her body vibrating under my hands.
I hold her hips down and stroke my cock against her G-spot. I finger her clit, grab her beautiful tits, and bear down on her as hard as I can.
It feels so good to be back inside my little slut, my love slave, my everything. She wants it bad, as evidenced by the way her orgasm is rolling into another, and then another.
I kiss her swiftly on the mouth, tasting her need for me that’s painted all over her beautiful lips.
My name is on her tongue all the time.
“Tristan,” she says faintly, floating in her castle in the sky.
“I’m right here, baby. I’m always here for you,” I say, my voice raspy. I flip her over and pull her ass to me. I get on the bed and bend her over, spreading her wide from behind.
“Isobel, get ready because Daddy’s about to fuck that tight little asshole of yours.”
She says nothing but breathes hard. I bend her down so that her face and tits hit the sheets. Then I plunge into her pussy from behind, getting my shaft nice and fucking wet.
I pound her in this way for a while, because she’s moaning out and fucking likes it.
I decide to give her another orgasm, a deep one, one rooted in her G-spot before moving on.
It doesn’t take long.
I pump into her, touching that special place of hers deep inside.
“Tristan, no, fuck. I’m coming again so hard.”
I know she is. And just as she does, as I feel her come around my cock. I pull out and sink my cock into her asshole, being so nice and wet now.
It hurts her at first.
She clenches the sheets and moans out in a mix of pleasure and pain. I move slowly, but her cum on my cock makes it so easy to slide right in. I can’t help but want to claim her like this. I want every part of her to be mine.
Besides, I know she’s still riding the waves of multiple orgasms, so it can’t hurt that much.
I always make sure my baby’s warmed up. When she’s nice and primed, I can enter her like this, and she’s guaranteed to have the most intense climax of her life.