Never Again Yours (Isadora and Magnus)

Chapter 136 Soft, golden lamplight spilled over the king-sized bed, bathing it in a gentle haze. Pudding, the golden retriever, had once again been banished to the hallway.

He whined in protest, his little paws scratching at the door. Why did they keep kicking him out halfway through playtime? Inside the bedroom, Victor hovered over Isadora, his body pressing her gently into the mattress.

Her porcelain skin shimmered against the pale blue silk sheets, a rosy flush blooming across her body as passion overtook her.

A heated ache spread through Isadora's chest, making her squirm restlessly beneath him, her voice trembling with a breathless, delicate moan. "Mmm..." Victor propped himself up on one strong, bare arm, reaching over to the nightstand. He pulled open the drawer, grabbed what he needed, and tore open the wrapper before slipping it into place.

Isadora's cheeks burned crimson.

She quickly turned away, not daring to look at the intimate scene unfolding beside her. But in that moment, she caught a glimpse of the overflowing drawer-box after box stacked inside.

A shiver ran through her. So many! Did he honestly think they'd ever use that many? Her voice cout husky, "Why... why do you have so many?" Victor finished what he was doing and leaned in, pinning her down once more. He brushed her hair aside and pressed his lips to her earlobe.

Her ears were delicate and cool to the touch, making her shiver all over. Victor's gaze burned into her, a dark and hungry look flickering in his eyes.

"You should have a little more faith in your man," he teased, his voice low and rough.

And then, Victor's presence overwhelmed her, every inch of him claiming her as their bodies moved together in perfect, feverish rhythm. The air filled with breathless sighs and whispered names, her own voice trembling with pleasure, rising and falling until it finally broke into a tearful whimper.

Victor's voice, deep and husky, rumbled against her ear. "Say my name, Isadora." "Vi-Victor..." she gasped, her tone sweet and breathless, nothing like her usual composed self.

The sound sent a jolt through Victor, making his throat work as he swallowed hard, desire darkening his eyes. "Good girl," he murmured, brushing his lips against her temple. "My sweet girl." Outside, moonlight poured through the window, painting their entwined shadows across the glass in a swirl of silver and longing.

Given that Isadora had just chfrom the hospital, Victor was gentle that night-they only made love once. But even so, Isadora lay sprawled on the bed, her body trembling, sweat dampening her brow. She was so exhausted she could barely lift a finger, wrapped in the blankets as if she might never move again.

Victor let out a quiet laugh.

She always claimed she wasn't too thin, but her stamina told another story.

Resigned, he scooped her up and carried her to the bathroom, helping her rinse off under the warm shower. Then, with surprising tenderness, he toweled her off and dried her long, dark hair with a hairdryer.

Only after all that did he carry her back to bed, settling in behind her and wrapping her tightly in his arms. Isadora's dark, silky hair was twisted loosely at the nape of her neck, a few stray strands curling around her cheek. Her lips were rosy and her teeth flashed white against the glow of the bedside lamp, which made her look impossibly soft and radiant.

Eyes closed, she melted into Victor's care, letting out a long, contented sigh.

Over her head chis low, rough whisper.

"Isadora, I have to leave for a business trip in Solstrand tomorrow." She kept her eyes shut for a moment, then blinked them open, turning to look at him. "How long will you be gone?" He sounded lazy and relaxed. "A week." Her birthday party was that weekend. Which meant he wouldn't make it back in time.

She'd been planning to bring Victor along, to make sure the Vaughans finally understood that things with Magnus were well and truly over.

Now, it looked like she'd be dealing with everything on her own. Shem could already imagine the look on Eleanor's face. Noticing her silence, Victor reached out and pinched her nose. "Why so gloomy?" "Missingalready, before I've even left? I must be doing something right," he teased.

Isadora blushed furiously. "That's not it at all!"

Victor's intense gaze swept over her, lingering on her face, sliding down her collarbone, and finally coming to E rest on the softest part of her chest.

He chuckled, his voice warm with amusement. "Alright, alright. You're not missing me. But I might be missing you." * When Victor left for his trip, Isadora threw herself back into work.

After all, she still had to go head-to-head with Prescott for next quarter's results.

Word had it that Prescott was already canvassing the shareholders, calling in every favor he could.

Of course, the rumors reached Isadora's ears. The board of the Vaughan Group was full of old-school traditionalists who never fully accepted her. As far as they were concerned, she was an outsider, a newcomer-even if she was the Vaughan heiress, she'd only returned after twenty years, which made her suspect in their eyes. This time, Prescott had a real chance at winning.

Isadora shook her head and sighed, sinking back into her chair, her body weary and aching.