Two days without seeing her felt like punishment. Business pulled me to other offices, meetings stacked like bricks, but every quiet moment my mind went straight back to Isabella...her soft smile, the way her thighs trembled when my tongue found her clit, the perfect arch of her back when she came on my fingers. I needed her under me again. Needed her begging. Needed her to remember who she belonged to.

This morning I dressed without enthusiasm—charcoal suit, no tie, sleeves rolled to show the ink curling around my forearms. Dissatisfied. Restless. I slid into the back of the Bentley and waited. Ethan appeared seconds later, expression neutral, keys in...