My Sweet Isabella (The Ambassador Trilogy #3) (9 page)

I said nothing trying to get into my dominant role. I had to make do with what we had on hand so I took two of my t-shirts, and two ties over to the bed. I used the two t-shirts to restrain her arms, and the ties for her ankles. After I tied her to the bed, I sat down on the edge and admired her. My one joy in life was her. I pushed her hair out of her eyes as I gazed into her face. I let my hands run down the length of her body. Her lips were parted, and she panted as I teased her with gentle caresses across her skin.

“I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Fabrice. Are you okay?” I didn’t say anything. I didn’t think I was ready to do that yet. I didn’t know if I could take charge like I did before. The pain in my leg kept me from kneeling, and that was part of the game we played. Maybe it was partly depression, but the thought of tying her up didn’t sit well with me. I bent down and kissed her. Her tongue delved deep in my mouth, her lips wet and warm. A soft moan escaped her as she arched her back to me. My cock was hard as steel and I wanted to be inside her. I let my hand roam across her body again as I lightly stroked her hard nipples with my fingertips. Her skin felt like satin against my fingers. Her scent was so intoxicating and so feminine.

One of my hands cupped her breast. As I squeezed the perfect mound, and bent down to suck her nipple. My ravenous mouth could not get enough. She pulled against the restraints. I didn’t have the strength in me to turn her on dominantly as I would have done in the past. I stopped and looked at her.

“Isabella, I’m no good anymore.” She jerked out of her lust-filled moment.

“Don’t talk like that, Fabrice. What are you talking about? I’m dripping wet.”

“I can’t please you right now like I used to. I don’t have the strength yet to dominate you. I don’t know if I will be able to for a long time or if ever.” She narrowed her eyes at me.

“I don’t need you to dominate me in bed, Fabrice. You know that. Yes, it’s sexy and fun. I love you. And all of this doesn’t matter.”

“That was our thing. That is what you like.”

“Our thing was us. That’s our thing. Our thing now is that we are alive and together. The other stuff can wait. Baby, stop this and come to bed with me. Remember, the first time you took me to bed and didn’t get undressed? That was so hot. Let’s do that again.” I looked in her eyes and both of us knew. There was something more than domination between us. I looked in her eyes and saw nothing but love. With a sigh of regret, I untied her legs and arms and let her pull me down onto the bed. I felt better being in her arms. I rested my head against her soft pillowy breasts.

“I’m sorry, baby,” I said. I was truly sorry I couldn’t take her over the edge like before. Her fingers lightly stroked my face; her sighs told me none of that mattered.

I was still hard as a rock. I wanted to turn her on and make her come. She snuggled closer and placed her leg over my body, which gave me the opportunity to reach around her and finger her sweet spot. My fingers melted inside her.

“Oh God, “she breathed.

I let my thumb rub against her clit as my other two fingers dove deeper inside her. I touched that spot she loved for me to touch. She came hard after a couple of minutes, grabbing onto me and calling my name. I needed my mouth on her.

“Isabella, come up here and sit on me. Put your pussy on my face, but face away from me.” I was still fully dressed as she sat up on all fours, turned around and stuck her ass out for me. My hands massaged her perfect round ass as I admired it, and remember what a lucky man I was at that moment. I spread her wide with my thumbs and devoured her. She quivered as I dove into her with my tongue. Holy fuck, nothing has ever tasted so good. Her hair was a wild mess, and I loved when she looked like that. With my free hand, I grabbed her hair and gave her long strands a tug. I heard her groan. I felt her bite me playfully through my pants.

“Fabrice, I want you inside me.” I had to be inside her.

“I want to fuck you, now!” she cried. My leg screamed in pain, but my cock needed her more than the pain could stop. She unzipped my fly and took out my cock and raised up off my face. She looked back at me as she took me again with her back facing me. Her round ass, tiny waist and long hair hanging down made me go insane.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” I asked, as I tried to catch my breath.

“Go slow; I want to feel all of you.” I wanted this to last for a while, and if she went to fast, I would explode. She was hot and throbbing as she sat down on me. My hands clutched her waist and guided her at the speed I wanted her to go. I held her there for a second as I let my cock sit inside her. She was purposely clenching her pussy driving me out of my mind. I licked my thumb and pressed lightly against her puckered entrance. The passion and love between us was hot and fiery and I needed to touch all of her. I must have spurred something inside her because she began to moan louder the more I pressed. With my cock in her pussy and my thumb in her ass, I was sending her to heaven and I was right behind.

“Are you okay with me touching you there?” I asked insistently.

“I love that,” she moaned. I could tell she did. The different way she moved when my finger was pressed there told me she loved what I was doing to her.

“Can I go deeper?” I didn’t want to do anything she wasn’t comfortable with.

“Please, give me more.”

I pushed my thumb in deeper. Her hands gripped my calves as she continued to moan and rock back and forth.

“Isabella, turn around and look at me.” I wanted to look in her face. I wanted her to open her eyes and look into mine. I needed the intimate connection of our souls.

“Let me watch you come. Look at me when you come.” She raised off me and turned around. Slowly, she put me inside her again.

“Fabrice, it’s going to be….Oh God.” The intense wetness of her pussy along with its throbbing against my cock brought me to an orgasm. I couldn’t push deep enough in her. Everything around me was a blur as I pumped her full of all I had to offer. We didn’t want to stop as our orgasms kept flowing through us. Isabella reached down and touched her pussy and put her fingers in my mouth for me to suck. Holy fuck. I kept coming as the pain started to rise in my leg and I sucked on her fingers. I didn’t care. Nothing mattered but making my Isabella feel good. She fell down across me panting and sweaty.

“I wanted to tie you up, Isabella. I feel like less than a man if I can’t dominate you the way you like in bed.”

“I told you I don’t need that, Fabrice. What you did to me was perfect and oh so hot.”

She was determined to make me feel good, but I knew otherwise. I knew what she needed and what she craved.

“I’m not the same man. I don’t know if I ever will be.” I whispered in her ear.

“You’re the same man. You’re my Fabrice. Stop this. You know it doesn’t matter to me.”

“It matters to me.”

“Why?” she got angry with me as I pushed the issue. She sat up in bed and stared down at me.

“You know how I love to take you so close to the edge and then stop. I love to watch you squirm and want me so bad you can’t stand it.”

“I’m good with you making love to me any way. We can do different things until you are ready and if you aren’t who gives a shit, Fabrice. You are too hung up on that shit.”

She was right. I was very hung up on that shit. It’s because that is what I did for so long. Domination was my foreplay. Domination was taught to me at an early age in my sexual experience and it was something I didn’t want to lose. I’m not one of those intense guys that uses equipment and floggers. That wasn’t my thing. I enjoyed tying up my partner and using every one of our senses to heighten the sexual experience. I had to get back to that again soon.

~~~~~~~~~~~

I was halfway into my painful physical therapy one morning when I received a call. I wouldn’t have taken the call, but the call was Pierre. I had not heard from him in a while so I answered my phone to see if he found the boy.

“Pierre, it’s good to hear from you.” I tried to sound normal despite the fact I was out of breath.

“I need to meet with you, Fabrice. Can we meet today?”

“Okay. I’m at physical therapy now. How about this evening you come to my home? Are you in Paris?

“I’m here in Paris, and the sooner, the better. I can be wherever you need me. What time is good?

I stopped and thought for a second. I planned on working late and we had nothing planned that evening other than dinner. I could stop and take a break around four.

“How about four?”

“I’ll be there.” I hung up, hoping to hear about the boy and his mother. I needed to know he was spared that day.

I had arrived back to my office around lunchtime. I was sore, tired, and in need of some quiet time. The sun was hot and I sat outside to eat the sandwich Isabella had made for me and put in the refrigerator. I was surprised to notice Gustan calling me and, I was a little pissed he had interrupted my lunch.

“Gustan?”

“Fabrice, I found some things out about your brother’s girlfriend. We need to meet as soon as possible and I don’t want to say anything on the phone. Is he coming to your house anytime soon?”

“No, he’s not invited over here as far as I know. What’s wrong?”

“We’ll talk when I get home. I’m in Paris right now, but should be back soon.” The call ended and I knew it had to be something serious for him not to discuss the situation over the phone.

An uneasiness fell over me as I thought about what Gustan said. She must have a past, like I thought. Why else would she be with my brother? This shit never ended with him, and I was the only one that seemed to notice.

I heard my Isabella singing somewhere in the house late that afternoon. Her voice was a welcoming sound, and I loved knowing she was there with me. As I was going to go see her, I saw a car coming down the driveway kicking up a cloud of dust. A black sedan drove up to my turnaround. I looked at my clock to see that it was four.

I forgot to tell Isabella Pierre would be coming over. I heard him knock, and before I walked to the door, she had greeted him and let him in. Pierre always had a way with the ladies and loved to charm them. He was harmless, and I let him have a little fun. He was not any competition. Well maybe now he would be. Pierre was tall and lanky, bald and married to the same woman since he was nineteen. He was not a looker, but he had a way with the women. He could make them laugh, and that’s what reeled them in.

“Fabrice said he was dating a beautiful woman, but I never dreamed you would be this beautiful!” Christ. If anyone else said that, I would have slugged him. I had forgotten the two of them hadn’t met.

Isabella giggled, and I walked behind her, grabbing her by the waist.

“I didn’t want to make you jealous, Pierre. Yes, I keep her locked up here, so men like you don’t try to steal her.”

They both laughed. “Smart man.”

Pierre and I went to my office, and before we spoke, Gustan knocked on the door.

“Gustan. Come on in. Pierre and I are looking into something. Glad you’re here,” I said. Gustan looked concerned. I didn’t like that look on his face. That intense glare made me uneasy. He and Pierre shook hands, but Gustan again didn’t want to sit.

“I have to talk to you. It’s urgent.” I looked up at Gustan, who stood in front of me sweating and breathing heavy.

“What is wrong with you? Were you working out?”

He shook his head no, and looked out the window behind my desk. He seemed to be on guard.

“What was so urgent you couldn’t speak to me over the phone?” I asked. He threw the manilla folder on the desk in front of me. I opened the folder up to see pictures of the same woman he showed me previously. I looked up at him quizzically.

He took a rag out of his coat pocket and wiped his brow. “That is not Andrea Noir.”

“Who is she then, Gustan?”

“Her name is Assata Bushra. She is the widow of Azhar Hakim.

I
sat back in my chair taking in what Gustan told me. My brother’s fiancé was the widow of one of the biggest terrorists in Syria I’d helped assassinate. I felt faint.

“Are you sure? How did you find this information, Gustan?” asked Pierre.

“I did some research, and I had a man follow her. The same one that followed Romain. She travelled back and forth from Syria to Paris several times last year. We did extensive research on her alias and nothing came up, except for an Andrea Noir who was killed several years ago. I had her fingerprints lifted from Romains apartment, and we had a match come back. After double checking we determined she is indeed the widow.”