Chapter 175 ONE-HUNDRED AND SEVENTY-FIVE

Chapter 175 ONE-HUNDRED AND SEVENTY-FIVE
ONE-HUNDRED AND SEVENTY-TWO

“What do you want?” Alessandro asked.

Isabelle stopped and looked him in the eye.

“I'm taking control,” she answered with a straight face. Then, she got up from her knees and stepped away from him. “And I want to watch you lose control to a… woman.”

Alessandro exhaled deeply and yet again, he didn't speak up to her.

“Can you… can you take it?” she asked, referring to a whole different issue altogether.

“I can take whatever it is you have to offer.”

He only gave that answer because he really wanted to find out how far this would go. For the first time, he was beyond thrilled to know what a woman had planned for him. He took a little glimpse at his naked self and almost laughed.

He undressed himself first in the club and now, she did the second undressing.

And he was being kidnapped by a woman.

If anything, his life just turned interesting than how it has been for the past few months, even though he wouldn't describe the past year as interesting at all.

“Watch me, Alessandro.”

It came out half order, half request but he didn't care, because he could look at her all day and not get tired.

So he watched—like a predator would to a prey, but in this case, he didn't know which one he was anymore.

Isabelle walked towards the glass of wine she was sipping from earlier and she picked it up.

“You've been drinking a lot lately,” Alessandro uttered in observation.

She didn't respond. Instead, she smiled and raised the glass a little high up in the air. A sense of déjà vu overwhelming them and then she emptied the content of the glass on her body and over her nightdress.

Alessandro let out a low growl as he followed every single trail, every single droplet as they made their way to places he desperately wanted to feel but couldn't feel as they trickled down even to her thighs.

Her dress was wet now, clinging to her body like a second skin. The thin, wet, silk nightdress doing nothing to hide her strained nipples.

“Isabelle,” he called out, his voice low and husky while his mind wondered why he even called her in the first place. 

“Let's play a game Don Moretti,” she suggested, breaking the silence.

“Does your husband know you're playing games with other men?” he taunted in a bid to get on her nerves but she saw through him and braced up. She knew that look he had on his face way too well. It was the look that meant ‘he wanted her.’

Watching him now, he was trying so hard not to act on it.

“You're not other men, Alessandro. You're my husband… my only husband,” she muttered. 

What? What did she just say?!

Alessandro stared at her, trying to make meaning with what she just said but he couldn't. Either she was being honest or she was a straight liar now and was only playing mind games with him.

For some reason, he wished it could be the former.

“Will you play with me?” she asked in a sultry tone.

“Yes,” Alessandro answered through gritted teeth.

A victorious smile played on her lips and she walked towards the far end of the room where the closet was situated. She grabbed a few items from the closet that he couldn't see and set them on the table opposite where she stood earlier.

Standing in the room with a tied up Alessandro, Isabelle understood one thing. She was just as twisted as Alessandro was. None of them was a greater psycho. Each of them had their own special ways of being psychos.

“Rules of the game—You can't touch me Alessandro.” Her gaze moved to his chained hands and back up to his face as if elaborating the impossibility of that happening. “You'll only watch and be touched. You'll take as much as am willing to give you.”

He tried to get free from the chains again but the only thing he was able to do was cause the clashing of chains together. “Take these cuffs off.”

“You're in no place to make orders.”

Just as she did earlier, she slipped the hand of the nightdress down and let the little dress fall to the floor.

Alessandro swallowed, his eyes eating her up in ravaging ways possible. She was completely naked before him, and that only caused his cock to throb even more with need.

She saw it, because her eyes had been there, watching to see when his cock would harden even more. Raking her eyes down his body and licking her lips, she hummed with pleasure.

He waited… anticipated to see what would happen next.

Isabelle walked towards the bed, then she did what he didn't think she would do. She climbed on top of him. Leaving her in a position where her pussy straddled against his thigh, inches away from his cock, enough to keep him wanting, and her legs remained bent backwards while her breast was directly at his face, teasing him because he couldn't suck or feel them.

“Isabelle, get the key to the chains and unlock them now.”

She could hear the restraint in his voice, but she ignored it and moved over him. That was when he noticed just how wet she was, and he fucking loved how hot she was for him. Her fingertips grazed his abdomen and she shifted back a bit, running the pad of her finger over the crown of his dick and collecting the drops of glistening precum.

“Isabelle…”  Her name came out as half groan and half warning.

This was torture—he admitted to himself. She was torturing him. Trying to make him beg for her by all means necessary but he wouldn't give her that satisfaction. There was no denying that he hadn't fucked in a year and months, but he would never beg a woman.

Never.

Isabelle placed the same finger into her mouth, her eyes darkening and her eyelashes fluttering as she sucked it clean.

“How many women did you have sex with while I was gone?”

“I didn't have sex with anyone else. You've dug a place for yourself in my heart and no other women can ever replace anything about you… including sex.”

Those words took her aback. They weren't the words she had been expecting. They didn't sound like words that a man who hired men to kill her in Newyork would say to her.

Maybe he was trying to fool her.

To make her believe he was a little different, but she wouldn't be falling for his trap. She knew better now.

Alessandro was a killer… a murderer.

He murdered her father, lied to her and tried to kill her as well. There was no redemption for this man and nothing he said would make her believe otherwise.

Isabelle threw her hands over each shoulder and shifted a bit closer to his face.

“I missed you.”

Three words.

And they were strong enough to shake every wall she had built over her heart before meeting him.

“I'm angry. I'm furious that you got married to Alexei and thought you could try to get me to sign divorce papers when you know fully well that I'll rather die than give you up, but that doesn't change the fact that I missed you. I couldn't… I couldn't breathe properly over the past year. It felt like I needed you to function properly,” he revealed, his expression grim. His expression shifted to something else she couldn’t understand as if the words he said earlier came out wrongly.

And it did, because he tried to rephrase them immediately,

“I need you to function properly, Isabelle. Without you, every place feels empty. I feel empty without you, and I know it sounds unreal but… I spent the last year in hell because you weren't there, and seeing you, here with me, makes me understand what a safe heaven feels like.” Alessandro took a deep breath before continuing, “Because you're my safe heaven and I can’t believe it took me a year to figure that out.”

Her heart skipped a beat. Tears welling in her eyes. She didn't want him to see so she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his, eyes closing.

How could she look at him when he speaks like that?

When he speaks like he actually loves her. When all these from him was actually an act. How could she?

She was here on a mission and if he saw her crying, he might think of her as weak. All she needed to do was do what they had planned and let the next sequence of events take place.

Alessandro couldn't imagine that those words had just left his lips. He couldn't deny that it was really how he felt, but saying them out loud? was something he hadn't imagined he could do.

What was Isabelle doing to him?

Her lips were very soft and the pressure was light, almost like she was trying to get used to the feeling of their lips together.

Lord, he wanted to touch her… to feel her but he couldn't because of the damn fucking chains.

Regardless of the hindrance, he caught her lips with his, applying more pressure than she had and nudging her lips with his tongue. This kiss was different. It wasn't fast, invading like some others they had before. It was more exploratory, like they were communicating emotions with just their lips.

It almost felt like their souls were interwined.

It felt… It almost felt like love.

Isabelle parted her lips without hesitation and he dove in. Her taste and the soft warmth of her mouth went straight to his cock. She submitted to the kiss, following his lead. He deepened the pressure, their tongues gliding over each other's. 

Her nipples rubbed against his chest and she made a small sound at the back of her throat in response, tightening her hold on his shoulder. She dropped down one her hand to his chest, pressing it against his chest, grazing his nipple and he kissed her a bit harder.

As if planned, they pulled away from each other. Taking in deep breaths, their eyes fixated on themselves.

Then it dawned on Alessandro. A wave of realization hit him and his chest tightened.

He really looked at her, letting the words out, he confessed,

“I love you, Isabelle.”