Loveless

By N. Isabelle Blanco

One night.
An agreement.
The obsession that ensues . . . 

Paige

He told me he only wanted sex with me.
I've agreed to his terms. 
Elijah will be my first lover—I'll let him have my virginity.
But I won't give him anything other than that.

Elijah

She was supposed to be one of many. 
My greatest conquest yet. 
But she's in my blood now. Inside my fucking soul.
It won't end at just the sex with us.
I won't let it.

• Language: English
• Publisher: N. Isabelle Blanco
• Release date: May 10, 2016
• ISBN: 9781533749277

N. Isabelle Blanco

N. Isabelle Blanco is the Amazon Bestselling Author of the Allure Series, the Need Series with K.I.Lynn, and many others. At the age of three, due to an odd fascination with studying her mother’s handwriting, she began to read and write. By the time she’d reached kindergarten, she had an extensive vocabulary and her obsession with words began to bleed into every aspect of her life.  That is, until coffee came a long and took over everything else. Nowadays, N. spends most of her days surviving the crazy New York rush and arguing with her characters every ten minutes or so, all in the hopes of one day getting them under control. Sign up for the newsletter at http://bit.ly/NIBnewsletter to be the first to know how all these arguments turn out :)  Facebook: facebook.com/nisabelleblanco Instagram: @nisabelleblanco Twitter: @nyddi

Book preview

one

Elijah

My heart twists, right before it takes a skydive straight between my legs.

The lips pressed against mine are soft, wet—hungry.

God damn, I can almost believe she’s been as desperate for this as I’ve been. Just as obsessed. I give into the pull, letting Paige’s tongue—Paige-fucking-Madson’s tongue—slide sensually along my own.

Licking.

Taking.

Mating.

Paige pulls on my collar and we go stumbling, only stopping when her back hits the wall. She doesn’t seem to care, eating desperately at my mouth, making these perfect little sounds that leave my cock trembling.

Fine by me. If she doesn’t care, good. I sure as hell can’t bring myself to turn away.

Growling, I cup her face, her long strawberry blond hair tickling the back of my hands. I use my knees to push open her legs so I can get nice and comfortable between them. Once I have her right where I want her, I set in to eat her mouth with a vengeance.

I want her to understand exactly what I’m going to do to her once I get my mouth on her pussy.

It doesn’t even register in my mind that I’m actually thinking of eating a woman out. Something I never consider doing.

She moans loudly into my mouth, like she’s all game, gun-ho to let me have at it.

Fucking beautiful.

Sliding my hands down her back, I bring her flush against me, rolling my hips so she’ll feel every hard inch of me.

Paige meets my thrusts with one of her own, and I almost fall to my knees in gratitude.

She gives off cold, but I’d known that inside her there had to be nothing but hot. I sensed it. Fantasized about it.

Started foregoing sleep so I could stop fucking dreaming about it.

Eight months. That’s how long she’s been driving me wild. And now she’s in my arms, just as wild—sucking on my tongue and humming in a way that makes me want to fuck her right here. Just rip her panties off so I can thrust deep. Oh . . . so . . . fucking . . . deep.

I pull back, completely out of breath.

Paige is undeterred. Her little fingers tighten in my hair, yanking my head back, her mouth finding the pounding pulse on the side of my neck. She licks and sucks on my neck just as she had on my mouth, as if she’s fucking high on the taste of me.

My hips shoot up uncontrollably, grinding my aching cock into her. Fuck, Paige. It’s going to be amazing between us. Can’t wait to be inside you.

A small giggle escapes her, and I find even that sexy. She leans her head back against the wall and gives me a drunk, adorable smile that makes me want to bite her. I can’t wait to finally feel what that’s like. Undulating her hips, Paige bites her plump bottom lip, scrambling my thoughts.

Lust shoots through me so hard my vision almost blurs. Staring into her baby blue eyes, I grab her bare thigh, where her light pink dress ends, and lift her leg up onto my hip. You’ve been thinking about it, too. Haven’t you baby? With my other hand, I cup her chin and smooth my thumb over her lip.

Her lips part and she nods breathlessly.

I get so high on that confession. Straight up lightheaded. I’m going to be the best fuck of your life, I swear to her, meaning every single word.

She giggles again. You better be, considering you’ll be the first.

Her warm, moist breath caresses my thumb as she speaks, sending more heat spiraling through me. God, I need her naked. Now. I hitch her leg higher, screwing her through our clothes—

Wait.

What the hell did she just say to me?

Paige tightens her leg around me, rocking into me like she’s trying to use my hard-on to get off. Don’t stop, Elijah. Show me how it feels.

Her heat bathes my entire length, making me hiss. Jesus. For her to feel like that? She has to be so wet for me, on fire for what I can give her . . .

No! I have to focus, have to make sense of what I heard her say. Reaching deep down into the pit of myself, I search for the will to get the sexy girl grinding on me to stop. It’s the equivalent of bench-pressing a semi; my body fights me the whole way.

She’s here, so close, utterly willing, seemingly desperate—more delicious than any woman I’ve tasted in a long time. How the hell am I supposed to let her go?

You better be, considering you’ll be the first.

Fuck. That’s how.

Grabbing her wrists, I step away from her. My dick literally screams at me with every inch I put between us.

Pouting, she whimpers, trying to get me close.

I grind my teeth and fight the urge to bite her again. Another few steps back; more space between us. Yet another fresh round of misery courses through my body. I haven’t had blueballs for a long, long time, but I’m definitely heading there now. And it just might kill me when it’s through with me.

Focus on the task at hand asshole. What did you mean by that? I ask her, voice hoarse.

What?

What do you mean by ‘I’ll be the first’?

Her cheeks, already rosy from all the drinks and the kiss we shared, darken even more. The flirty, bold girl she’d been merely two seconds ago disappears. She chews on the corner of her lip, eyeing my mouth.

Then, she shrugs as if what she’s about to tell me is no big freaking deal, and says, I’ve never had sex before.

What. The. Fuck?

two

Elijah

Equal parts disbelief and hunger battle in my system. How could someone as sexy as her still be a virgin? She’s twenty-three, if I remember correctly.

Damn. She’s like a mythical creature; stories are constantly told about girls like her, but they don’t actually exist in real life.

Except, Paige does, I’m dying to fuck her, and she’s still a virgin.

I officially hate my life.

She tries to move toward me.

I shake my head, even though stopping her is the very last thing I want to do. Paige . . . stop. I can’t believe I just said that shit. Months of scheming to get between her thighs—hoping, obsessed—and now I have to turn her down. We can’t.

But why? she practically whines at me.

She’s killing me here! All I want to do is give her my cock, and she wants it just as bad. Paige, you just told me that you’re a virgin. We can’t do this. I step back even more, putting at least three feet distance between me and every tempting inch of her body.

It’s still not enough. I could’ve been all the way in Florida and it wouldn’t have mattered.

She throws me a petulant look, her hair a mess of strawberry blond waves falling over her shoulders . . . her bee-stung lips even more swollen after what I did to them. Are you saying you’re not going to have sex with me?

That’s not what I’m saying at all. After tonight, I’m definitely going to fuck her. Walking away from the lust between us isn’t an option for me.

I’m going to be her first.

You see, I’m a connoisseur of women. A collector of sorts. But I’ve never had a virgin before, especially one as untouchable as she’d seemed until tonight.

Hell yeah, I want her on my list. Not tonight, though. Not like this, while I’m still tipsy. Not while she’s drunk. I want her fully aware when I fuck her, so she doesn’t turn around and cry foul later on.

And I want her to be cognizant enough to understand one very basic fact: I don’t do anything but fuck.

Oh, I know that she knows that already. She’s been throwing it in my face since the first day I gave her my cheap, flirty smile, as she termed it. But I’ve also heard how virgins can be—clingy. Over emotional. Quick to fall in love at the first feel of a cock inside them.

I’m willing to be her first.

Okay, fine, I’m dying for it.

That doesn’t mean I’ll end up being her boyfriend. I tried that shit only once.

Once was more than enough for me, thank you very much.

You’re no fun. Still pouting, Paige steps in my direction.

And almost ends up face-first on the floor.

I catch her with an arm around her waist, pressing her into my side, and make damn sure to keep my dick away from her. My blood is still drumming hot through my veins, demanding another taste of her.

I’m a lot of fun, I tell her, leading her down the hall. I just can’t show you right now.

Liar.

I chuckle at that, dying to get her alone and on the same page as me. Then I’ll show her just how much of a liar I am.

We make our way back into the main dining area of the restaurant. Our boss, Gilliane, had booked one of the large, private dining rooms for tonight. All twenty-six employees of JouerTech came to celebrate the birthday of the vice president, Nick. They all left over an hour ago. Maybe an hour in a half.

I was lucky enough to convince Paige to stay with me for just a few more drinks. Considering I’ve been trying every trick in the book to get her to open up so I could seduce her, my shock when she agreed knew no end.

Then again, things had gotten friendlier between us in the last month.

Clearly, a few drinks turned into too many. Whatever. She’d been opening up to me—and, oddly enough, me to her—when Paige excused herself to go to the bathroom. I figured "what the hell?" and decided to go as well.

Everything took a turn after that. Oh, who am I kidding? Things didn’t take a turn. They skidded, flipped right off the road, and ended up crushed against a fifteen foot, concrete divider wall.

That concrete divider wall being her, of course.

We just happened to exit the bathrooms at the same time. I remember the shock on her face when she saw me standing in the same hallway as her—that expression lasted about a second, then something seemed to snap inside her.

She came straight at me, grabbing me, and slammed her lips against mine before I had a chance to react.

And that’s how we ended up dry-fucking against the wall.

A shiver ripples down my spine at the memory. I have to stop thinking about it. Especially while my arm is wrapped around her, and her sweet, citrusy smell is all up in my nose.

I lick my lips, my tongue desperate for another taste.

We exit the restaurant out onto Court Street. Paige stumbles more than once and it goes a long way to helping me sober up.

She’s clearly drunk. It’s my responsibility to take care of her.

After I get her clearheaded enough to discuss some very important details.

Neither of us say anything until I hail down a cab. I’m going to make sure you get home okay, I say, reaching for the handle.

I don’t get a chance to open the door.

Paige maneuvers herself so that she’s blocking the door, pressed up against it. It’s night out and she’s so damn sexy in the city lights that the sight of her short circuits all of my thoughts. Dumbfounded.

She grabs onto my collar and brings me toward her.

Paige, no—

Her lush lips meet mine, her soft tongue slipping inside me.

My cock jerks, swelling. I grab her hips. She wraps her thin arms around my neck, moaning into my mouth.

Shit. I can taste the sex on her.

Against her mouth, I groan, Paige, we need to stop.

She shuts me right up, thrusting her tongue forcefully into my mouth, taking what she wants from me. Her little body writhes against mine, rubbing my dick just right. My eyes roll back into my head. I want to pin her under me, fucking consume her—

The taxi driver presses down on the horn.

Hard.

I break away from the most addicting mouth I’ve ever tasted and open the cab door just in time. The driver seems ready to speed off.

Holy fuck, we were just dry-humping each other, in plain view of all of downtown Boston, up against the door of a taxi.

I’m all for getting my freak on, but what the hell is the girl doing to me?

Are you getting in or not? the annoyed cabbie calls out.

I grab Paige’s arm.

She gives me that seductive little pout that makes my dick ache to feel her lips. It doesn’t matter that I’m a virgin. You can be the one to teach me.

Who is this girl and where has she been hiding? The Paige I’ve known for the last eight months was serious to a fault. Closed off.

And I’ve been going mad from wanting her.

This new version of her? Fuck. Me.

Oh, I’m going to, I murmur in a low, rough voice, urging her into the cab and following after her.

But, first, I need to sober her up a bit. After that, we’re going to have a nice, long talk.

three

Paige

Sobriety is not my friend right now. Oh, no, no, no. Because the more sobriety that returns, the more common sense comes back with it. And the more common sense I’m dosed with, the clearer my understanding of how my night went down becomes.

I stare off into space, unblinking, probably freaking out everyone in the Starbucks with me.

The pieces continue coming back into focus, merging together, becoming a complete aberration of a movie. A true, B-rated horror flick. Like watching a sixteen car plus three truck pile up happening in slow mo.

What have I done?

Oh. My. God. What the fuck have I done?

A man sitting in the table across from me pushes his chair back roughly.

Startled, I blink. All around me, people move this way and that. Others sit at the many small tables, busily typing away on their laptops and tablets. Even more people stand on line, waiting to order.

One of those people is Elijah Parker. He’s far enough away that all I can see is his wavy black hair since he towers over most of the people on the line. The thick strands of his hair started out the night nice and neat, combed back in his usual style. As impeccable as the rest of him.

Now, they’re a downright mess, and I’m the one responsible for said mess.

The sad truth of my pitiful situation: I got drunk enough to do something as utterly stupid as kissing him—grinding on him like a dog in heat, confessing to him—but I didn’t get drunk enough to obliterate the details from my mind.

I remember everything.

I take a deep, shuddering breath. Why am I here with him? In truth, I started to regain sobriety about five minutes into the cab ride. Two blocks away from my house, Elijah told the driver to pull over, and he dragged me into Starbucks, insisting that we had to talk.

Uh . . . no, we don’t. As a matter of fact, I might just quit my job tomorrow morning and move out of town, far enough away that I won’t have to see him or his lips ever again.

Oh, God. His lips.

I nibble on my own swollen lip for the millionth time tonight, and damn the current of heat that explodes to life inside me.

No doubt that’s what he does to all the poor women that fall into his trap. He gets them nice and hooked on that low, throaty voice of his, the mischievous twinkle in his dark eyes.

Then he feeds them a taste of those perfect lips he’s gifted with, and bam! Addiction. Gone for. Mental processes locked on him and only him.

It’s seriously time to go.

I move to rise out of my seat.

No, you don’t. Stay right there.

A large, white cup is placed on the table in front of me. I stare at the green and white Starbucks logo printed on the front. Another cup joins the first, and then Elijah settles into the seat across from me.

I don’t dare move my stare away from the logo.

He reaches across and taps the underside of my chin with his index finger.

Out of reflex, my head shoots up, and I find myself staring at his amused smile. The same amused, mischievous smile that has been messing with my hormones for months. My heart speeds up, sending that primal demand coursing through my veins.

His smile widens and he braces his arms on the table, leaning closer. He’s so big in his striped white dress shirt, his shoulders so wide. His lips remain slightly bruised, a darker pink than they usually are.

Tempting.

More than tempting. They’re starting to feel necessary to me.

I remember the lazy way I sucked on that bottom lip, and the way he groaned for me when I did.

Elijah’s eyes darken, going full-on black as his pupils expand. Did my facial expression give away what I was thinking? Yeah. The hard rasp of that word shoots straight between my legs. We definitely need to talk. He slides one of the coffees in my direction.

A-about what? I reach for the coffee he offered me, hating the fact that I’m shaking as I do so.

And that he notices.

Those black eyes take in my shaking hand, then burn a path straight to my chest. I’m wearing a padded bra, but I can almost swear he sees how hard my nipples are.

Don’t play dumb with me babe. Reaching across the table, he runs the tips of his fingers down my arm, across the back of my hand.

I gasp, every hair standing on end.

He presses his lips together and hums low, black eyes locking on me. Damn girl. You really do feel it, too.

God help me, I do. I’ve been feeling it for so long now that I no longer know how to deal with it. Or how to control it, obviously. I don’t date, I say, hoping that my go-to response when it comes to men deters him.

It doesn’t.

Good. I don’t either.

I know that. Very well. It’s one of the