Read His Wounded Light Online

Authors: Christine Brae

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BOOK: His Wounded Light
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“Isa, over here!” I call to her as she slips out of the store, her eyes darting around trying to find me.

“There you are!” she exclaims, breathless. The way that she launches herself into my arms makes it seem as if we’ve been separated for much more than a mere fifteen minutes.

We stand in the middle of the crowd, locked in a heated embrace, for a few seconds. We seem to be doing a lot of these public displays for completely no reason and I can’t get enough of it. We kiss in crowded streets, empty alleys, museum halls and restaurants. We embrace, we touch. It’s apparent that we’re taking full advantage of being in the City of Love. It’s not easy to do this back home with photographers and gossip columnists lurking around every corner.

“Thank you again, baby. I love it!” She pulls my head down to her mouth for a kiss.

I hold her face in my hands for a few seconds, then shake my head and chuckle. “Okay. Now, we really need to get back to our room.”

She nods her head as I pull her to me once again and take her shopping bag in my right hand. We walk towards the Hotel Plaza Athénée in a comfortable silence. It’s just a block away and exactly the type of accommodation we’ve become accustomed to in the past few years. I’ve made a decision not to spare a single expense to give her the best of everything. I love the way she carries herself like she belongs in places like this. Her mannerisms, her gracefulness, her stature. “You can never buy class,” my mother always told me. Isabel is the epitome of that statement.

Isabel quickens her pace and heads straight up to the front desk as soon as we enter the hotel. As I follow right behind her, we are met by the bellman, who leads us to the many packages that have been delivered directly from the stores where we shopped earlier in the day. She breaks out in a peal of laughter as she surveys the damage we’ve done. I ask the bellman to deliver the push cart full of packages upstairs to our suite.

“Home sweet home.” I exhale deeply as soon as I open the door and lead Isabel inside our not-so-humble dwelling. I know she’s thinking of the kids and so I decide to keep it in my pants to give her some time to settle in.

“What time is it back home now?” Isabel asks as she walks towards the hotel phone by her side of the bed.

Our room is furnished in an understated tone of beiges and browns with Edwardian-style furniture, antique curtain rods, and lavish, vibrantly-colored draperies. She kicks off her shoes, sits by the nightstand, and places her hands on the receiver.

“It’s just about one in the morning there, Iss. Don’t worry, I called Eddie while you were in YSL this afternoon and told him we would call him in the morning.”

She lets go of the receiver. “How are they? Are they doing okay?”

“They’re great. Mom and Dad had Tony and the kids over for dinner. They played video games—that’s why he was up so late.”

“Ha,” Isabel mutters as she gets up from the bed and walks towards the bathroom.

I pour myself a glass of scotch from the fully-stocked bar before taking a seat on the couch in the sitting room. I watch Isabel as she walks into the bathroom and leaves the door wide open. She places her jewelry on the dresser by the sink and looks into the hand-carved glass mirror to freshen herself up.

“Want me to run a bath for us?” she calls out to me.

“Maybe later.” I stare intently at her, observing her, getting more aroused as the seconds go by. “Come sit with me for a while.”

She peeks her head out and grins at me. I wonder if she wants me just as much. I watch her strip down to her lace underwear and grab a robe from the door. There has never been a time when I didn’t want her. The love and attraction that I have for her has flourished exponentially as the years have gone by. She examines herself in the mirror before wrapping the tie around her robe. Except for slight scarring from her two C-sections, Isabel is in perfect shape. Her full breasts are firm and taut and her stomach is as flat as the first day we met. I rest my head against the back of the sofa and watch her sashay over to me, hips swaying, smile inviting.

“Hi,” she whispers as she takes the glass from my hand and sets it on the coffee table. She lifts her leg up and straddles me.

“Hi.” I can’t stall much longer. This goddamn small talk has to wait. My hands move to untie her robe and with one swift pull, she is once again exposed.

“New?” I ask as I cup her breasts beneath the orange lace bra.

“For this trip, yes.” She closes her eyes and grinds herself against my legs.

“Orange looks good against your skin.” I go to my safe place in between both breasts. She smells mouthwatering.

“Did you have fun today?” Isabel asks me as she arches her back.

“Not as much fun as I think I’m going to have now.” I bring my lips to her breasts and kiss each one.

“Thank you for a wonderful day, Alex.” Her voice is low and her words are deliberate as she plants light, feathery kisses on my forehead, my nose, my cheeks and finally my lips.

“Always,” I murmur. “My pleasure.”

“Yes. Your pleasure.” She pulls herself off from me and proceeds to unbutton my jeans while I watch her fixedly. I lift myself up to help her slide my underwear down my legs. She tugs at the hem of my shirt and I obediently raise my arms to allow her access to my chest. “Beautiful,” she whispers as she licks a trail down to my stomach.

Just as she moves to settle herself between my legs, I hold her by the hips and lift her up on top of me. “I need to be inside you, baby.” My voice is hoarse and my eyes are closed.

She lowers herself onto me and moans as I fill her to the hilt. I can feel myself stretching out and hitting the roof of her insides. I tear her bra open and knead her breasts as I help myself to one and then the other. She rocks me slowly and leans her body back, angling herself so she feels tight against me. She draws her face close and fervidly grazes my lower lip with her teeth, her hands on my chest as she gyrates her hips in a motion that drives me wild with frenzy.

“I love you so much, Alex. Do you know that? Do you?” She picks up her pace, her breaths rapid and ragged
.

Her words and her movements are my ecstasy.

“I do know, Isa,” I answer as I thrust upwards, making sure that there is no space left between us. “I know.”

“You have to know. My heart. It’s full of you. There’s no one else.”

“I love hearing you say that, baby.” I lift her up and she wraps her legs around me so I can carry her across the room to gradually settle her at the very edge of the bed. Just when I think we’re going to make slow, passionate love, she utters the words that kill me every single time.

“Fuck me, Alex. Nice and hard.” She turns around so that her chest is against the mattress, her knees raised and her hands gripping the comforter above her head. She whimpers as I slam into her from behind and lift her up to meet my thrusts.

“That’s it, baby. So...so...good,” she moans as I grunt and she keens and we move together in unison.

After a few minutes, I need to feel her underneath me. I lay on top of her with my chest to her back and my mouth on her ear as I continue to thrust into her. “You feel so good, baby. I love fucking you like this. Let go with me—I’m coming!”

Her orgasm is so intense that she squeezes her legs together, fueling my urgent need to spill myself into her even more.

***

 

 

“No, I’m not. You’re not easy to forget, Isabel Amarra.”

—Alex to Isabel, The Light in the Wound

 

 

The antique claw-foot tub is surprisingly large enough to fit us both perfectly.

“Look how silky the beads of bubbles are on the surface of the water; they’re so pretty and the jasmine soap smells so sweet.”

I don’t answer her. I’m lost in my own thoughts.

“Baby, did you fall asleep?” Isabel whispers as she reaches her hand back to caress my face. She’s leaning on my chest again, but this time my legs are entangled in hers.

“Uh uh. Just relaxing. This is so nice,” I reply as my hands smooth over her breasts and rest between her thighs.

“It’s our anniversary celebration tomorrow. I can’t believe it’s been twelve years.”

“I know. It seems just like yesterday when I first met you after that baseball game. Do you remember?”

“I do.” She turns her head around to kiss my lips.

“You were so beautiful that day. You wore a striped blue shirt and matching blue sneakers. I can still picture it. You were so shy,” I pause to nuzzle her neck, “you wouldn’t even look at me.”

“You noticed that? You were so hot. You made me nervous,” she admits.

“I told Leigh after we had dinner that night that I was going to marry you. I just knew you were the perfect girl for me. The worst thing that happened was my having to leave for school so soon after that. By the time I came back, you were already dating someone else. I never expected us to become such good friends. We got along so well.”

“You were always there for me. Remember those cryptic overseas phone calls?”

“Yes, those. I just needed to hear your voice, especially right after I had been with someone else. I would always remember that it wasn’t you. And then the times when I was back home, it was pure torture being your friend and not being able to touch you. To kiss you. I left your house with a hard-on every single time.”

She laughs and rubs herself against me. I’ve already sprung to life once again. “I don’t think that’s me, A. I think you’re just naturally hard.”

“Isa, don’t you know that after all these years, you still have that same effect on me?”

“Why did you wait so long for me?”

I smile to myself as I remember all those years of loving her from afar. “I don’t really think I was waiting. I think I was just happy to have you in my life. And I thought that one day, I would just meet someone who could make me feel the same way I felt about you. That time never came, but I honestly believed it would.”

“I’m kind of glad it didn’t. I loved you after our first time, it just took me a while to realize it.”

“That night was amazing, Isa. When I said I loved you, it was like a huge burden was lifted off me. I wanted to be myself with you. And your body...fuck... Sorry, babe. The thing is, it’s still as beautiful now as it was then. I’m the only one aging.”

“That’s not true, baby. You’re more handsome now than you were when I met you. There’s something about how dignified you look, how sexy and accomplished you are.” Her voice turns to silk as she whispers, “It turns me on, big time.”

“It does?” I gather her hair up and lean down to kiss her neck, drawing circles up and down her earlobe with my tongue. She takes in a breath and closes her eyes.

“Super. Can you not see the effect that you have on the women when you walk into a room? You’re a gorgeous man, my love.”

“That never mattered to me. Okay, no wait. Correction. After YOU, it stopped mattering to me.”

“If you were to do this all over again, what would you change?” she asks.

I pause for a second. “Hmm. I don’t know. Sometimes I think that I should have told you how I felt earlier to save ourselves from all these wasted years.”

“It would’ve happened sooner or later. There was even a time when you were with that girl Amanda that I couldn’t go to sleep without hearing your voice.”

“What? Get out!
Now
you tell me this!” I poke her on the side and she giggles.

“I’ve told you this before! You just keep forgetting. Typical,” she huffs.

“Well, my subconscious does that on purpose just so you’ll have to keep telling me.”

There’s a slight pause as she turns her head to the side again and twists her neck upward to kiss me. I take the initiative to devour her lips with my mouth. Those succulent lips. They taste just like honey.

“A, wait!” She pushes me back and stares into my eyes. “Oh, Alex, your eyes, I think they get bluer every time you’re horny.”

She’s teasing me now.

“Isa...” I warn.

“One more question. That night. Have you forgiven me for that night?”

BOOK: His Wounded Light
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ads

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