Chapter 22

Chapter 22

...

I loosened my silver tie slightly, making it sit comfortably at my collar.

"How do I look?" I asked my driver, Michael.

He peered in the rearview mirror, looking back at me.

"Very nice, Sir," he complemented.

My lips quirked slightly as I straightened my black, pinstripe suit jacket before going back to playing with my tie. "Isabella picked out my tie," I admitted sheepishly, loving how domestic Isabella and I had become.

Ever since her meltdown, she had been doing everything possible to make up for it. She was cooking, cleaning, and doting upon me lovingly. She never overlooked an opportunity to remind me how much she loved me, in both actions and words.

I preened under the attention, my dreams and fantasies unfolding before my eyes as we maintained a perfect balance. She was everything I needed and wanted her to be, while staying true to herself, and I, in turn, stood by her, supporting and taking care of her.

In truth, her meltdown had affected me more than I would ever let her know. The acute feeling of helplessness that had encompassed me was crushing. She had completely shut me out, leaving me powerless to help her. I tried to offer my support, to tell her without actually saying the words that she could come to me since I knew that she had already fallen back into old patterns. Her armor was strong, and her defenses told her that I couldn't help her without her consent.

I had wanted her to come to me willingly, but she pushed me, testing and forcing my hand, until I snapped. Maybe the way I had handled it hadn't been the best or the wisest way to go about it, but I was desperate and frustrated.

The distance between us had been slowly expanding until it had almost became a chasm, and I missed her, so I forced the subject we had both been avoiding. Her punishment had been cathartic for the both of us, cleansing us of the negative feelings that had been festering, and closed the gap between us until she was willing to really talk to me.

We'd hashed it all out, getting to the root of the problem, and we each worked to both reaffirm our relationship and continue forward. I was glad that we weren't letting one little hiccup make a crack in our foundation.

Isabella had been doing a lot of soul searching since then, talking to Alice and working up to contacting and meeting her father, while I had been making headway on finding him.

Michael nodded, a small, knowing smile on his face. "It looks good, Sir. It really brings out the green in your eyes.”

I chuckled lowly. "Already working on your Christmas bonus?" I deadpanned.

He joined in with my laughter, a sly grin on his face. "Never too early to start," he quipped back.

I pulled my phone from my pocket, sighing when I saw that my mother had called for the third time since I had woken up. It seemed that being ignored did not sit well with her; she had even gone so far as to change her number since I had blocked her last one.

Michael eased the car out the heavy stream of traffic, pulling up in front of the restaurant I had picked for my particular excursion.

"We're here, sir," he told me, stepping out of the car to open my door as I pocketed my phone and let out a long breath. The cool breeze caused a shiver to run down my spine as I ducked my head and exited the car.

"Thank you, Michael. Have a good day, " I told him with a smile before striding toward the restaurant.

"Reservation for Cullen," I said smoothly to the hostess by the door. She stared at me wide-eyed for a moment, her mouth parted before pulling herself out of her stupor.

"Uh...of course, Mr. Senator. I'll have someone bring you to your table.”

In a matter of minutes, I was escorted to my table, handed a menu and a Scotch on the rocks and fawned over a little before being left in peace.

Sometimes being a Senator has its perks, I thought as I took a sip from my drink, relaxing back in my chair as my eyes scanned the room.

It was a nice, private restaurant I frequented quite often, hence the excellent service and Scotch.

I checked my watch seeing that I had seven minutes until he was meant to arrive, but I knew if he was the man I thought he was, then he would be here any minute. It was irregular for a man of his status to arrive late. Being the first at a lunch meeting meant that you automatically earned the upper hand since you could anticipate the other's presence and prepare accordingly.

I clucked my tongue as I saw him at the entrance, his eyes catching mine as he was led to my table. My mask was firmly in place, my face showing absolutely no traces of emotion as he seated himself across the table from me, his familiar brown eyes searching and probing for a sign as to why I had demanded a lunch meeting with him.

"Mr. Dwyer," I said cordially with a slight nod of my head as I handed the waiter my menu. "I'll have my usual, thank you," I murmured, showing in one, fall swoop that he was in my territory, and, therefore, at my mercy.

"Senator Cullen," he said, returning the greeting before ordering, barely glancing at the menu as he inadvertently regained some leverage as he silently told me he was familiar with this place, almost as much as I was.

"You're a hard man to track down," I told him, my lips quirking slightly as I took another sip from my Scotch.

"I prefer my privacy. I'm sure you can relate," he replied coolly.

"Of course. I was merely stating a fact," I told him, enjoying how his eyes flashed and narrowed as he tried to work out my angle.

He sighed, unable to penetrate my mask. "Mr. Senator, I'm not sure why you've decided to take some sort of interest in me, but I'm not interested. I have my company to think about, and any other endeavors are out of the question at this point.”

I didn't react, leaning back in my chair as my Chicken Alfredo was placed on the table in front of me along with a glass of Pinot grigio. The dry, sweet taste of the wine complemented the food perfectly, and I hummed, letting the taste settle on my taste buds before swallowing.

"So, you want to know why I asked you to meet me for lunch?" I asked, picking up from where he had left off once the waiters had retreated after handing him a garden burger with wedged potatoes.

I paused, spearing some pasta onto my fork to increase the suspense as he shifted impatiently. I wouldn't deny that I loved holding a certain amount of power over people when I held the upper hand. To tease, and push them until all pretences were discarded was a strategic game that I had long since excelled in.

"I'm afraid that what I wish to talk about is of a rather delicate...nature," I informed him, drawing it out even longer as his brows furrowed, annoyance clear on his face as his mask slipped down. His jaw clenched in aggravation as I chewed slowly, watching him with interest.

"It isn't often," I continued,"That I take an interest in things outside of my work and my hobbies, but there are times when it becomes…invaluable for me to branch out into other things. I'm not here to waste your time, Mr. Dwyer, and I'm sure that once you hear me out that you will be on board, but first I think it would be wise for me to warn you that...”

I dabbed my napkin against my lips, catching any sauce that hadn't made it into my mouth. "...I'm not a man to be fucked with. I'm sure you are aware of the power I hold over certain permits and contracts that I'm sure you'll find very interesting," I told him. I watched as his eyes widened minimally at the mention of permits since I knew that he had applied for one only a few weeks ago, but it had been put on a standstill, thanks to a little leeway on my part.

"The Mayor and I are close friends, and I'm sure it wouldn't take a lot to make your life very difficult if things today don't go the way I want them to. Have I made myself clear enough to you?”

He seemed unsure whether to retaliate with anger or caution as he regarded me. "Are you threatening me?" he asked lowly.

I smirked at him in what could only be considered a sinister manner. "I'm warning you to be careful. Bad things happen to good people all the time," I replied easily.

"And if I refuse?" he asked.

I chuckled. "You won't," I told him confidently.

"What exactly do you want from me?" he asked quietly, his eyes darting suspiciously around the restaurant like he feared the Mafia was hiding behind a potted plant or something.

I found it too amusing to tell him that, while I could make good on my...warning, I didn't want any kind of blood on my hands. I was not a sinister man by nature, but even I let the power get to my head at times.

"The question isn't what I want from you, but what I can do for you," I said. "I believe I mentioned that the subject was of a delicate nature?”

He nodded, choosing not to answer verbally.

"Then I feel I musk ask, when was the last time you had contact with Mary Renee Swan?"

The color drained from his face as he grasped onto his fork until his knuckles turned white. I worried for a moment that he wasn't breathing, but then he exhaled noisily, his hackles raised and his defenses high.

"How do you know about Renee? Give me one good reason why I shouldn't walk out of this restaurant right now. Why is my business your concern?”

I chewed while thinking of how to answer. "Hmmm, how I know about Renee is not of much concern at this point, but I fear I must correct you in saying that your business is very much my concern since I believe there is a third party involved.”

If I had thought his countenance had been pale before, now it was white as a sheet. His Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he tried to swallow, his mouth opening and closing for a moment.

"M-my Bella. You know my Bella?" he asked, his eyes wild.

I arched an eyebrow, reluctant to reveal my whole hand, at least not yet. "Right now, that is of little consequence. What I need you to focus on is whether or not you want to-“

My phone cut me off. I sighed in frustration, fishing it out of my pocket to see "Bellezza" flashing up on the screen. "I'm sorry, but I have to take this," I told him, answering the call without waiting for him to reply.

"I thought I told you I would phone you once I was done," I said sternly.

"I know, Papi, but I couldn't help it. I'm just so...gah! How is it going? Are you still having lunch with him?”

I knew that sitting around waiting for me to call must have been hard for her, and I didn't have to be near her to know that she was fidgeting and running her hands through her hair in an effort to calm herself down.

"Uh huh. Everything is fine, Bellezza. We'll talk when I get home, okay?" I said gently.

She sighed. "You're right," she mumbled. "I'm just freaking out about all of this. Have you told him about me yet?”

"Not quite yet, but I assure you that there is nothing to worry about. The whole situation is completely under control," I soothed her.

"Okay...yeah...okay. Me and Yoda will be waiting. Love you, Papi.”

"I love you too, Bellezza. We'll talk when I get home." I ended the call swiftly before turning my attention back to Mr. Dwyer, completely unapologetic of the interruption.

"Was that her?" he demanded, his eyes darting back and forth between the phone and my face as if the answers would be revealed through them.

I hummed non-committedly before changing the subject. "Where was I? Ah, yes. Do you want to meet with your daughter and establish a relationship with her?" I asked.

"Of course!" he exclaimed. "I mean, up until she turned eighteen Renee would give me updates on how she was, and what she was doing, but I haven't heard anything from either of them since. I wasn't even aware that she knew of my existence.”

"It was a recent development," I told him, deciding to let Isabella delve into that the particulars of that subject if she so chose to.

"So where do you come into all this then?" he asked me suspiciously.

"That is where things get delicate. I'm sure you're aware that everything I have told you, and have yet to tell you, are to be met with the utmost discretion. With that in mind I can tell you that my relationship with your daughter is unconventional at best. We both appreciate our privacy on the status of our relationship, and it has only been recently that I have able to take her out. I escorted her to the annual ball a few weeks back, but due to some...complications, we are holding back on revealing her identity and the depth of our relationship.”

I had worded it carefully, not wanting to reveal more than I thought was smart.

"What complications?" he pressed, narrowing his eyes at me.

"That is not my story to tell, but the repercussions on both of us have made us wary of the welcome the press will greet us with. I love her, I truly do, but—as it is in most relationships—it simply isn't that easy. We all have pasts that I'm sure aren't as pure as the driven snow, but I fear that if we don't proceed with caution then it could all blow up in our faces," I confided.

"Why risk it then?" he asked.

I gave him a pointed look. "Because as much as we want it to, nothing stays hidden forever. I refuse to hide her away like she is some dirty little secret that I am ashamed of. Walking in the shadows just isn't doing it for either of us anymore. We're both ready for more.”

He pursed his lips and crossed his arms over his chest. "What is she doing with you, anyway? You're what, ten years her senior?”

I shrugged, unperturbed. "It's twelve, and age isn't a concern for either of us. I need her as much as she needs me; and as I said before, our relationship is unconventional, but it works for us.”

I met his gaze steadily, and he backed down, realizing that was all I had to say on the matter.

"Fine," he relented. "But I want to meet her.”

"And that, Mr. Dwyer, is why I am sitting across from you," I told him, my lips curving up into my signature smile.

The tension faded from his body at that revelation, and he offered me his hand in a sort of cordial agreement. "Call me Charlie."

...

I was exhausted by the time I got back to the apartment. I had hoped to be able to get home in a timely fashion, but I had been bombarded with end of the month reviews and meetings with my chief of staff. I had barely found five minutes to call Isabella to tell that I would be late getting home, let alone give her the play by play of my lunch that I knew she desperately wanted.

I kicked the door shut behind me, loosening my tie and shrugging out of my suit jacket as I headed upstairs to my room.

I discarded my socks and shoes in my closet along with my tie and jacket before walking back into my room. I lingered in the doorway, happy to take a minute to observe Isabella sprawled out across the bed. It was obvious by the book hanging limply from her hand and the fact the lights were still on that she hadn't meant to fall asleep. I felt bad that she had waited up for me since it was nearly midnight.

Almost as though she could feel my gaze, she rolled over onto her stomach, the sheets tangling with her legs as she squirmed, kicking them down. "Papi," she mumbled, the book falling from her hand as she reached to grip the pillow above her head. Her eyebrows were drawn together and her lips were set in a pout, yet she looked as beautiful asleep as she did awake.

The youth and innocence that radiated from her body gave her skin a light glow. Even when restless, she held a serene sense of calm. She started squirming again, a whimper falling from her lips as she bucked her hips into the mattress, her thighs rubbing together.

 All my breath left me in a whoosh as I realized that she was dreaming of me, and by the way she was rutting against the bed like the dirty little slut she was, it seemed like an erotic dream.

She rolled onto her back, the buttons of the flannel shirt she was wearing partially open to reveal the round swells of her tits, hints of her dusty pink areolae visible. Her hips bucked up toward the ceiling, trying to gain the friction that was evading her as she spread her legs wide, her flimsy panties dark with her arousal.

"Please," she mumbled in her sleep, one hand moving to rub her plump tit. Her breathing was shallow and her lips were parted. The furrow between her brows deepened as she pressed her head further into the pillow, her lower half arching up in offering. I hadn't realized how tight my grip on the doorway had become in an effort to control myself, my cock awakening in my slacks.

I released my hold on the doorway, my hands unbuckling my belt and pulling it through the loops until it was free. My bare feet were silent as I made my way over to the end, climbing up on the end and moving forward until I was kneeling between her thighs. My muscles were tense and coiled, ready to strike against my unsuspecting prey.

I carefully grasped both of her hands, slowly bringing them over her head so as not to wake her. I used my belt to wrap it around her wrists before buckling it to the headboard. Her body was my playground, and I licked my lips in anticipation of what was to come.

My lips ghosted along the column of her neck, traveling down until my face was buried in the valley between her supple tits. I undid the buttons of her flannel shirt, pulling it apart to uncover her naked upper half. Her nipples were swollen and puffy as I captured one between my lips.

Her chest heaved as her nipple hardened further against my tongue, the swollen bud taut as I suckled on it. Her back bowed, her hips rocking against my thigh, the heat of her pussy saturating it. I reached down to fondle her neglected tit, palming it roughly. My left hand descended down the soft skin of her stomach, fingering the hem of her panties as I nipped at her nipple.

She let out a gasp, arching and writhing beneath me as her eyes snapped open, my tongue laving over her nipple to soothe any irritation my teeth had caused.

"Papi!" she moaned as my hand moved over her panties, grazing her protunding clit. I sat up slightly, brushing her hair over her shoulder as my lips descended on her neck, kissing and sucking it. She pulled against the belt wrapped around her wrists, powerless to do anything but take what I was giving her.

I cupped her pussy as I delved a hand deep into her hair, my lips trailing along her jaw as I tilted her head to the side. I used the change of angle of her face to my advantage as I crushed my lips to hers. Her lips were wet and soft as they caressed mine, responding with equal fervor to the passion I delivered to her. Her lips yielded beneath mine as I pressed mine to hers harshly, prising them open with my own, causing her to moan and rock her hips against my hand.

I tore my mouth away from hers, leaning back with a smirk as she stared up at me, her lips swollen and her expression of cute befuddlement as she blinked away the last of sleep.

"Good evening, Bellezza," I said smoothly as she panted beneath me, squirming slightly against my hand.

I tutted her, removing my hand as she whimpered. "No, Bellezza, I'm the one in control here, and you, my dirt little slut, have spoiled your panties.”

She flushed, using her tongue to wet her lips. "I'm sorry, Papi," she murmured.

"Hmmm, I'm sure you are, but tell me, Little One, what exactly were you dreaming about?" I asked.

She nibbled on her bottom lip as she looked up from under her eyelashes shyly. "You, Papi.”

"You can do better than that," I scoffed. "What was I doing?”

"You were..." she let out a shaky breath. "...you were inside me," she admitted.

I loved it when she played coy with me, pretending to be little miss innocent when I knew she was the exact opposite.

I cupped her pussy. "Here?" I asked.

She shook her head, and I slid my hand down lower to her back entrance. "Here?”

She nodded shyly as a groan rumbled through my chest. I bent my head down, taking her earlobe into my mouth and nipped it gently before pulling it between my lips.

"You dirty girl," I growled. "Dreaming about your Papi drilling your tight little back hole.”

She whimpered weakly, yanking against my belt as she writhed and squirmed, the sexual frustration pouring from her. I chuckled sadistically, enjoying her struggles as I sucked the sensitive skin behind her ear.

"Papi, please," she keened.

"Ah, ah, behave," I reprimanded gently, pulling away and leaning back on my haunches as I eyed her ravenously.

I hooked my fingers in the hem of her panties, pulling them down to reveal the bare, pink, glistening folds of her pussy. I rubbed my thumb over the wet crotch of her panties before curling them into a ball with my fist.

"Open," I instructed, tapping on her bottom lip. She did as she was told, parting her lips wide, allowing me to stuff her panties into her mouth. I couldn't help but admire her beauty as she lay there, open and ready for me, her submission palpable in the air as she cast her eyes down. I almost wished that I could take a picture so that I could look at it on the lonely nights in D.C.

I kissed the soft skin of her stomach, pausing to dip my tongue in her navel before shifting lower toward her pussy. My face hovered between her legs, her thighs quivering in anticipation as she waited. I inhaled deeply, the smell of her arousal completely intoxicating.

Her juices dribbled from between her lips, coating them as the tip of her clit peeked out, engorged and pink. She whimpered from behind her panties, her hips bucking wildly as I blew air onto her sensitive folds.

A light sheen of sweat already covered her heaving, trembling body, and I reached out, carefully parting her folds to reveal the full beauty of her pussy. Her scent seemed to thicken in the air as I ran a finger through her pink, swollen labia, her flesh hot and slick.

"What do you need?" I asked her, my voice low and husky as I flicked her clit, tugging on the little hood of skin around her throbbing flesh as she keened wantonly from behind her panties, unable to hold back her muffled cries of pleasure.

"You're so slick," I murmured, watching my hands with fascination as I swirled her juices around her pussy, pressing down on the tight hole of her entrance. Her flesh was needy for my touch, weeping and lubricating her as it begged me to take her, to own her. It wanted me to brand her, to imprint my mark permanently on her flesh.

I blew on her again as I rubbed her clit, the heat and wetness of her sending a shiver down my spine before spreading to my cock. I was hard and pulsing for her, barely holding back from rutting against the mattress as my cock begged me to seek friction and release. It was a heady feeling, holding so much of her—literally—in the palm of my hand. It was this kind of control, this power, that I sought. In a world filled with so many uncertainties, sometimes just knowing that you can bend, twist, and manipulate something at your will without repercussions made the weight of the world fall from my shoulders.

There had been—and occasionally still were— times where I felt like Atlas, balancing the world on my shoulders, trying to keep it up even when it would have been easier to have just shrugged it off. My job was a stressful one, one that took up a lot of time and energy.

There were times when I was forced to stay up long after Isabella had gone to bed and work, only to have to get up early in the morning to repeat the process of the day before, but with subtle differences. The release her submission gave me was the greatest gift I could ever think of receiving.

If, at any time, I started to sink under the weight of my job, Isabella was right there, reminding me that my home was in her.

I'd always found it funny how, as a teenager, I had fantasised about my perfect woman, long, blonde hair, big tits, and catered to my every whim, but Isabella eclipsed that easily. She wasn't perfect by any means, but she was real, tangible, and that made her better than any fantasy.

The way she strived to be the best she could, not only for me, but for herself, humbled me. She willingly placed herself in my hands, asking me to guide her and lead her in the right direction. The thought that I would do anything for her didn't scare me because I knew she reciprocated those feelings. Things weren't always easy for us or between us, and sometimes lines were crossed and feelings were merged, but we worked through it.

No matter how she viewed me, I was far from perfect. I made mistakes, and I still felt a sense of failure due to her recent meltdown. The "what if's" plagued me, and I had forced myself to go over that week in my mind until my head hurt.

I wanted to be better and do better for her. While the past was unchangeable, the future was waiting to be discovered and turned into our present. No matter what anyone told you, no relationship was easy, and if it was, then there was something wrong.

Relationships were something that required constant work and attention, and adding love into the mix created an almost uncontrollable force to work with. Every argument pierced your heart, every kiss ignited passion inside you, every hurt nearly brought you to your knees, and every shining moment made you feel as though you had conquered the world.

It ripped you apart and sewed you back together in one graceful sweep. It taught you how to lean on the other, that you needed someone to help you become worthy of love.

Communication was vital to any relationship, platonic or romantic. Without it, there was no way you could survive the harsh waters. There were always ups and downs, but sometimes everyone needed to shout and scream to get their point across. It was a constant battle that you had to fight. There were times when you wanted to give up, but the end goals were worth every scar and bruise you received on the way.

My relationship with Isabella was not perfect. We fought, we argued, we stumbled along the path, tripping through love. We both made mistakes, too stubborn and full of pride to ask for help when we needed it, but we both tried, and we always made sure to talk.

I had told Charlie that our relationship was unconventional and delicate because it was. The fact that each night when I went home I could strip off each layer of the mask that I donned each day—leaving a man that was an Edward that only my Bellezza knew—was liberating. I knew she loved having a piece of me that no one else was privy to.

Tanya knew of this part of me, but she had never fully seen it in action. It was a vulnerable side of me that I only let Isabella see. Isabella made me feel needed, wanted and appreciated. She accepted me easily in ways others would turn away from in disgust. I was a caregiver, it was ingrained in me to dote, guide and help her flourish in any way I could, and while other's thought our relationship was wrong and disgusting, it wasn’t.

Yes, she called me "Papi" and allowed me to punish and treat her like a child, but that wasn't the crux of our sexual relationship. By giving herself fully to me, she was able to recapture her childhood in a way that was rare for adults to do so.

They say your childhood is one of the best times of your life, you have no worries or cares beyond whether your mother will force you to eat vegetables for dinner, leaving you carefree to actually enjoy life in a way most adults can’t.

By being her Papi, I gave that back to her—sans vegetables. I gave her the chance to view the world in a new perspective, to let all her fears and worries fall away, and that was what she needed. We each gave the other the things we needed. It made our personalities compatible, and we both knew that it would be foolish to let our relationship fade.

I lifted myself up her body, my hand still rubbing her clit as I skimmed my nose up the column of her neck until I reached the shell of her ear.

"Are you going to cum for me?" I whispered as I pinched her clit lightly, knowing it sensitive it was from the constant stimulation I had been giving her. Her body stiffened for a moment before she started shaking, small tremors washing through her body as her arousal gushed onto my hand.

Muffled whimpers left her as she scrunched her eyes shut, her hips bucking wildly as she tried to prolong her orgasm. I ran my hands through her hair, whispering in her ear as she slowly came back down, slumping back among the pillows, her chest heaving quickly, and her hair sticking to her forehead.

She was limp as I pulled the panties from between her lips, replacing them with my own lips and tongue. I took my hand, wet with her juices, from her pussy, tearing my mouth away from hers and offering my fingers to her. "Suck," I ordered, and like the good little slut she was, she enthusiastically took my fingers into her mouth, swirling her tongue around them before sucking deeply.

Unable to take it anymore, I reached between us, flicking open the button of my slacks and easing down my zipper over my straining cock. I let out a hiss of pleasure as my cock sprang free, smacking lightly against my stomach as pre-cum leaked from the bulbous head. I slipped my fingers from her mouth, moving it down to help my other discard completely of my pants.

I grasped her ankles in my hands, letting my fingers caress the protruding bone before moving up to massage her calf. She hummed in pleasure, her eyelids fluttering shut as I grazed the underside of her knee, her toes curling slightly as she shivered. I repeated the same motions on her other leg, causing her to be completely relaxed and open for me.

I glided my hands down her thighs, curling them around the curve of her knees. I was thankful for all her Pilate and yoga sessions that made her so flexible as I pulled one of her legs outward until it was level with her hip. She stretched her leg out straight so that it was as if she was doing the splits with one leg, my hand helping her keep the position, while I picked up her other leg and threw it over my shoulder.

I shifted forward, her ass resting on my thighs as I pressed my cock between the lips of her pussy, groaning at the wet heat of it as I ran my cock up and down through her labia, coating myself in her juices.

I positioned myself at her entrance, easing my cock into the soft, tight heat that was her pussy.

She mewled, throwing her head back against the pillows as her hips rose slightly, coaxing me to fill her until she had taken my whole length. I obliged her happily, sinking into her body until my hips touched her thighs.

"Please, Papi," She whined as I sat deep inside her, reveling in the feel of her muscles squeezing me. I pulled back, my thrusts started off slow as I gauged her reaction to this position. I didn't want her to be uncomfortable, but if her impatient whines and whimpers were anything to go by, then she wanted more.

I sped up, thrusting in only to slowly drag my cock back out of her until only the tip was inside her. It was the cruellest form of pleasure being in her this way, allowing my cock to enjoy the tight softness of her pussy only to draw it back until it was barely in her.

She kept relatively still, unable to gain leverage in this position to greet my thrusts with ones of her own, but she was vocal with her pleasure, not in the least bit shy about telling me how good it felt.

I swiveled my hips, tilting them so that I could reach even deeper inside of her. I moved her leg from my shoulder and pushed it up toward her chest along with her other one. Her knees pressed into the curves of her tits, her feet resting on my chest as I gripped her hips, allowing her to push against me as I pistoned in and out of her.

She yanked furiously against her restraints, almost sobbing in frustration at not being able to use her hands.

"Papi, please," she begged. "I n-need to touch you.”

I contemplated my options before leaning over, my hips stilling as I unbuckled her wrists, red, angry marks marring her skin. She attacked me viciously, her mouth sucking and licking my jaw as her nails scraped over my skin. I shivered, pulling out of her body and rolling us over so that I was on the bottom.

"Ride me," I ordered. She sank down on me, her hips rolling and rocking against mine as she placed her hands on either side of my head, her mouth descending on mine with a purpose.

Not allowing her to have the upper hand, I thrust my tongue into her mouth, dominating the kiss as I wound a hand in her hair, wrapping it around my fist. My fingers dug in her scalp as we moved, hips bucking and thrusting, bodies sweaty, mouths fused together, claiming without respite.

I could feel her muscles fluttering around me, signalling that she was once again close. I slammed my hips upward, my own orgasm burning it's way through my groin until I couldn't hold it back anymore.

I pulsed, my thrusts erratic and jerky as I emptied myself in her, my hand desperately seeking her clit to help her follow after me. I rubbed furiously as she continued to bounce on my cock, her muscles spasming as she clenched around me. My cock was softening inside her as she came, crying out my name loudly as she shook and quivered, her eyes scrunched shut.

She was panting, her arms shaking as she struggled not to collapse against me. I pulled her roughly down on me, our sweaty chests pressed together as she regained control of her breathed.

"So, how did it go?" Isabella asked once she had caught her breath, peering up at me, her teeth embedded in her bottom lip.

I arched a brow, silently asking her to clarify what she meant. "With my father.”

"Very well," I admitted. "He gave me his card, and he is eager to meet you. It turns out your mother kept in contact with him after your birth, giving him updates on your progress as you grew up until you hit eighteen.”

She let out a long breath, looking somewhat overwhelmed. I knew that she had forced herself not to get her hopes up too high concerning her father on the off chance that he wanted nothing to do with her. It was one of the reasons that she was receptive to the idea of me meeting him first to lay out the ground work.

"The ball's in your court now, Bellezza," I told her softly.

Tears gathered in her eyes as she looked up at me before throwing her arms around my neck, hugging me tightly as she pressed her face into my neck with a sob. "Thank you, thank you, thank you," she chanted, her voice choked up.

I ran a hand through her hair soothingly. "I would do anything for you, Isabella, you should know that by now," I told her, planting a kiss on the top of her head.

She pulled her head back from where it had been buried in my neck peeking up at me with her big, brown eyes framed by her thick, black lashes. "I know. I'm just grateful.”

I leaned down, kissing her swollen lips gently before rolling over onto my side, my cock having already slipped from her body and laying limp against my thigh.

I drew the sheets up, clutching her tightly to me as she settled down. "I love you so much, Edward, you've given me everything," she said sincerely. "I never thought men like you truly existed.”

"You mean men who like young women with a submissive streak and who have an affinity to be called 'Papi'?" I teased, nuzzling her throat.

She giggled, sliding one of her legs between mine. "No, but that's an added bonus. I meant gentlemen who actually care, love, and take care of their girlfriends. Someone who doesn't shy away from emotions, who is strong, courageous, dominant and almost perfect.”

"Almost?" I joked, my heart and ego having expanded at her heartfelt words.

"Hmmm, you are a little too anal," she admitted playfully.

"And you, mia Bellezza, are a little too messy," I retorted.

"And yet we work," she murmured.

"Yes, we do.”