The Billionaire's Pretend Wife (Isabella)
Chapter 56 Fifty Six

When Jacob got home that evening, he was determined to solve the issue between him and Isabelle once and for all. She retreated to her room early in the night, and when he went to see her, he found that

she was drawing some designs.

"Can we talk?" he asked, standing beside her desk.

"I don't have time right now," she replied, indicating her paper. "I've got work to do."

"Okay," he said, knowing she wasn't going to like it if he interrupted her work. "We'll talk when you are done."

"I have a lot of work," she let him know. "I might not finish until very late."

"I'll still wait," he told her. He didn't want this matter to go on for much longer. By the end of tonight, he wanted it all to be behind them.

She gave him a curious look, but didn't object further. When he settled on her bed with his back against her headboard, she frowned. "You can wait in the living room," she suggested. "I'm good here," he told her.

She nibbled on her lip, and while the action was innocent enough, the thoughts it sent through his mind were anything but. But then again, he had been thinking all day about how he was going to seduce her tonight. It was no wonder that when she bit her lip, all he wanted to do was kiss her senseless.

"As long as you don't disturb me," she warned him. "I need to concentrate."

He smiled and nodded, happy that she wasn't going to try and throw him out. Even if she did, he would simply grab her and lay her on the bed, and show her all the things he had been thinking about all day. "I'll behave," he promised her.

But only for a while...

Isabelle didn't rise from her desk until after midnight. He wondered whether she worked that much every night, or whether she had extended her work, hoping he would get tired of waiting and leave. "What do you want to talk about?" she asked him, approaching the bed and standing a few feet away.

He swallowed as he gave her a once-over, taking her in. She was wearing a short cream skirt paired with a heavy white sweater. Her hair was held in a bun at the top of her head, stray strands framing her face and others falling down her neck.

He sat up straight, aware of the stirring in his pants. How had he managed to stay away from her after that hot kiss the other day? He could almost remember the softness of her skin beneath his fingers, the swell of her breasts, her sweet scent.

"Jacob?" she called when he didn't say anything for a while. "It's already so late, and I have to get up early tomorrow for work. So tell me what it is you have to say."

Jacob got to his feet and took a step towards her. She stepped back, but he didn't let her get away. Taking a couple of quick strides towards her, he reached out and wrapped an arm around her waist. She gave him a look of shock as he grasped her and pulled her against him, bringing their bodies together.

Leaning towards her, he whispered in her ear, "I just want to know what I can do to pacify you.”

"What?" she gasped, trying to free herself from his hold. "Let go of me! What are you doing?"

Jacob heard the mortification in her voice, but he didn't release her. The heroes in the romance stories he had read were bossy and stood their ground. Eventually, the heroine would give in to them, and they would get what they wanted. So, instead of releasing her, Jacob tightened his hold on her, until he could feel her breasts pressed up against his chest.

"Let me go and we'll talk," Isabelle requested, her hands clawing at his upper arms in vain. "We can't talk like this!"

"We can," he said, and then getting close to her ear again, whispered in a sultry voice, "so, what do I need to do?"

She struggled harder, and her motions produced delicious friction between their bodies that caused his length to harden. He shifted his hips so that he could press his bulge against her thigh. "Is that what you want?" he whispered in her ear again. "Will that make you happy?"

She gasped, and he pulled back to watch her. Her face was flushed, her breath coming fast and shallow. He placed a finger under her chin and lifted her face to him, forcing her to look at him. "You like that, uh?"

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"Your heart is beating fast, and you're breathless." He moved his hips, grinding his hardening length on her thigh. When she gasped again and then bit her lip, her eyes fluttering half-shut, he smiled. "You naughty girl."

Her eyes widened in shock, and he chose that moment to close the distance between them and stroke his lips on hers. Grasping her chin tightly in his hand, he kept her in place as he kissed her firmly, moving his lips over hers before she was able to push him away and pull back.

"Stop it!" she demanded, hitting him on his chest. "I swear if you don't-"

Wrapping his other arm around her, Jacob picked her up, cutting her complaint short. She wriggled in his arms, but he managed to turn her around and lay her on the bed.

When he let her go, she huffed and crawled on her arms backwards, her eyes glaring daggers at him. But that was okay. It was all part of the process.

He knew she was turned on by him, and if he pushed her a little further, she would soon be moaning in his arms. She was just mad that he had taken her by surprise. Soon, he would make her forget why the hell she was resisting him.

Getting on the bed after her, he covered her body with his as he moved, caging her into the soft mattress. He gripped the hem of her sweater and pulled it upwards, brushing her breasts as he went. Heavens, he couldn't wait to wrap his lips around her nipples and suck them while she thrashed beneath him, begging for more.

"Are you crazy?" Isabelle demanded, her voice shaky with fury. Her hand hit his forearm hard, forcing him to let go of her sweater. "What do you think you're doing?"

He gripped the hand that had hit his away and pressed it to the mattress beside her head. "Bella," he called softly, "relax. Let me make you feel good."

She swiped her other hand at him, but this time, it wasn't a harmless hit. Her fingernails scratched down one length of his face, and he jerked back in pain. She scrambled away from him and grabbed a blanket, pulling it over her body.

"Leave," she told him, her hands clutching the blanket tightly around her while she glared at him.

Sighing, he moved away from her and climbed from the bed. This was all a disaster. If he insisted on trying to coax her, he would only be acting like an asshole and probably end up losing an eye or two. She was no heroine who was easily romanced to submission, and it was now clear that he was nothing like those male leads. They were all lucky, fictional bastards who had the odds rigged in their favour. He walked back to his room and went straight to his bedside cabin, where he had placed the books Jason had given him after bringing them from work. He threw them all into the trash can, wishing he had never followed Jason's advice. The guy had already misled him twice. Why had he thought this time would be different?

Maybe he wasn't as good with women as he thought.

Or maybe Isabelle was just a hard nut to crack.

He went to his mirror and winced as he looked at his brand-new scratches. He had thought he would end the night with similar scratches on his back as she held onto him in the throes of passion. Jason was going to pay.

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