Rescued by the billionaire

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: Unspoken

She didn’t rush. Slowly, deliberately, she untied the sash of the robe and let it fall open. The black fabric slipped off her shoulders and pooled on the floor, revealing a matching set of black lingerie that hugged every curve perfectly. The delicate lace traced along her skin, both fragile and fierce, and I felt a heat rise through me that had nothing to do with the temperature in the room.

She crawled onto the bed with a graceful ease, sliding beneath the sheets like she belonged there, like she was meant to be right beside me. The soft rustle of the blankets was the only sound as she turned to face away from me, settling into the pillows.

I closed my laptop, the last barrier between us fading away. The quiet hum of the city outside was a distant backdrop to the sudden silence in the room—the kind of silence charged with something electric, something unspoken.

My heart beat faster as she shifted closer, her bare legs brushing against mine under the covers. It was subtle, but enough to make my breath hitch. The warmth of her skin, the scent of her freshly showered hair, the softness of her presence—it was all overwhelming in the best way.

I wanted to reach out, to close the distance completely, but I hesitated. The way she looked so peaceful, so vulnerable, made me want to protect this moment, hold it still.

Still, a part of me ached to be closer—to let her know how deeply she’d settled into my life, into my heart.

And as I lay there, watching her breathe softly beside me,

I was jolted awake by the sound of a woman screaming beside me. Isobel. Her voice was raw, desperate, tearing through the quiet of the night. My heart slammed in my chest as I sat up, disoriented for a moment before I realized she was having one of those nightmares again.

I reached out, gently shaking her shoulders, careful not to startle her more. “Isobel, it’s okay, wake up,” I whispered softly, my voice trembling with concern. Her eyes flew open instantly, wild and full of tears.

“Aaron, Aaron...” she gasped, clutching at me as if I were the only anchor keeping her from drowning in whatever darkness haunted her mind.

“I’m here, issy” I said, pulling her close and wrapping my arms around her. “I’m right here. You’re safe. I won’t leave you.”

Her body shook with quiet sobs as she tried to catch her breath. Then, in a trembling voice, she spoke, her words laced with fear.

“The bad man...” she said, voice barely above a whisper. “He had this little girl... he tied her hands and legs. She couldn’t move. She was so scared.”

I frowned, my mind racing. “What little girl?” I asked softly, needing to understand.

Her eyes searched mine, haunted. “I don’t know... but I keep seeing her. I keep feeling like I’m her.”

I pulled her tighter, pressing my lips to her temple. “You’re not that little girl anymore,” I said firmly. “You’re safe here with me. No one will ever hurt you again.”

She nodded, still trembling, and I stayed awake holding her, promising silently that I’d protect her from every nightmare—real or imagined.

After she had calmed down, her breathing slowing but still a bit shaky, she moved suddenly—almost instinctively—climbing onto my lap, straddling me with a boldness that caught me off guard. Her hands came up gently, one on each side of my face, her palms warm and reassuring as she held my head between them. Her eyes locked onto mine, dark and intense, searching for something I couldn’t quite place.

Slowly, she began to move against me, the rhythm unhurried but deliberate, sending a jolt through my entire body. I reached out, trying to steady her, my voice low and hesitant. “Issy... Issy, stop. You just had a nightmare.”

My words barely registered, though. She didn’t pause or pull away. Instead, she leaned closer, her breath soft against my lips, and I could feel the steady pulse of her heartbeat as she moved, as if needing to ground herself in the moment, to drown out the shadows that haunted her mind.

She didn’t respond to my plea, just held me tighter, as if finding solace in our closeness. Her body moved with a slow, seductive rhythm, every motion drawing a fire through me.