He slid steadily lower, dropping kisses over her flat stomach before dipping into taste her tiny navel. She squirmed beneath him, her breath coming faster as her hips instinctively lifted to him, seeking his invasion, his possession. Stefan stood swiftly; Isabelle groaned at the loss of contact, but he grasped her hips and pulled her to the edge of the bed. She gasped as he knelt on the floor before her and used his hands to separate the thighs she instinctively tried to close.
"Stefan!"
His smile was sly and sensual as he dropped delicate kisses along her inner thigh, and his tongue left a blazing trail that set her on fire and melted any resistance. Hypnotized, she watched in breathless anticipation as his dark head bent between her legs. Her hands curled into the quilt as he parted her sensitive folds and began to taste her. The wickedness of what he was doing, and the delicious sensations it provoked, drove her nearly mad. She arched against him as he pushed his tongue deeper.
Stefan had never tasted anything as sweet as her. She was like molten lava and honey rolled into one. Her hands released the sheets to curl into his hair, pulling him closer against her. A feeling of utter triumph came over him as she yielded everything to him. He began to urge her faster, plummeting deeply in and out as her cries became more frantic, and she began to writhe with unbridled passion on the bed. He kneaded her breasts as he used his thumb to stroke the quivering bud between her thighs begging for his attention.
She bucked against him; a savage cry escaped her as her hands tightened in his hair. He ignored it as he savored the taste of her and absorbed the tremors rocking her.
He pulled away from her, smiling with smug satisfaction as he looked down at her. Sweat slicked her, and passion clouded her eyes when they met his. She managed a tremulous smile as he lifted himself over, took hold of her luscious mouth, and drove into her. Isabelle cried out; her fingers dug into his back as another wave of ecstasy crashed over her.
Isabelle tossed her sweater into a box and hummed happily under her breath as she danced across the room. She hadn't known it was possible to be this happy, this complete. She felt as if her heart would burst with joy. She knew she was acting like a silly fool, one who was in love. A smile curved her mouth as she tossed another sweater into the box. The knowledge didn't frighten her at all anymore.
She was in love with Stefan, without him she would wither away and die, but she no longer cared about that consequence. She wanted him, and only him. She hadn't revealed to him she loved him yet, simply because a part of her was still scared he didn't feel the same way. She kept trying to tell herself he loved her; after all, he knew they were meant to be together, but that didn't necessarily mean he loved her.
Well, maybe it did. She wasn't entirely sure, but she thought if people were destined to be soul mates, then love would have to be a factor, wouldn't it? Her brow furrowed as she tossed another sweater into the box. Her mother and father loved each other dearly, but they’d been in love before her mother learned what her father was and before either of them knew anything about soul mates.
That hadn't happened with her and Stefan, and she wasn't sure if maybe that was the way it was supposed to work. Maybe they were meant to fall in love first then find out about the mate bond later.
She slid onto her old bed, a sweater clutched tightly in her hand, as she stared at the woods through the window. If she were truly honest with herself, she would admit a part of her loved him from the start. She’d been too stubborn to accept it or acknowledge it.
She wished she hadn't fought against him so relentlessly. She should have run to him with open arms and embraced her future instead of hiding from it, but she had an eternity to make up for her mistake.
Isabelle hopped off the bed, determined to start making it up to him as soon as possible. She smiled wickedly before realizing she was no longer alone. She spun quickly to find Jess in the doorway; hatred oozed from every pore of her body.
Water dripped from Jess's hair, and her bathing suit hugged her lithe body. She’d made sure Jess wasn't around when she came in, but apparently, she’d returned from her swim sometime after Isabelle left Kyle's side.
"I'll be out in a minute," Isabelle managed to tell her through the lump suddenly constricting her throat. She didn't want to think about what had once been between Jess and Stefan, but she suddenly couldn't get it out of her mind.
Jess snorted as she moved further into the room. "Take your time; it is your room, after all."
"Not anymore." Isabelle tossed the sweater into the box and turned to grab the remaining shirts from the drawer.
"Then again, what's mine is yours, right, Isabelle?"
Isabelle forced herself to take a deep breath and turn to face her. Jess had every right to hate her, and if it was the other way around she would feel the same way. But she had to try and say something, do something, to ease it. "I am sorry, Jess," she whispered.
"Why is it I don't believe a word you say?"
Jess was determined to have it out with her, and there wasn't much she could do to stop her. "You don't have to believe me, Jess, but it is the
