Isabella

Chapter 5

The soft morning light spilled through the open windows, casting a golden hue over the room. I stood by the kitchen sink, letting the warm rays of sunshine fall across my face as I took in the familiar, yet new, view. Everything looked different now. I hadn’t realized how much I had missed—the little things like the way the sunlight kissed the edges of the table or the subtle shades of green in the garden outside. My senses felt sharper, heightened, as if I were seeing the world for the first time.

But even with everything around me catching my eye, my attention kept drifting back to Adrian. My husband. He moved around the house with a casual ease, his movements confident and familiar, as though this was just another normal day. But for me, it wasn’t normal. Not after months of separation, not after regaining my sight. He looked better than I remembered, more rugged and more handsome, his presence filling the space in a way that made my heart race.

I found myself sneaking glances at him as he passed, admiring the way his shirt clung to his broad chest, the way his strong hands worked with a casual grace as he sorted through things on the counter. His hair was tousled, slightly messy, and it only added to his appeal. I wanted to touch him—to brush my fingers through his hair, to feel the warmth of his skin. Every time I got near him, I found excuses to do just that.

While we were prepping breakfast, I passed him a dish and let my fingers linger against his. He stilled for a moment, his eyes flicking to mine, a spark of something deeper passing between us. He smiled, a slow, knowing grin that made my pulse quicken, but he didn’t say anything. It was the quiet touches, the brief brushes of skin, that seemed to hold all the weight of what we both felt but weren’t saying.

"You’re staring," he teased, breaking the silence as we stood side by side, cooking eggs in the kitchen.

I bit my lip, trying to suppress the smile that threatened to break free. "Can you blame me?"

He laughed, the sound deep and warm, but there was something in his gaze when he looked at me—a smoldering intensity that wasn’t there before. Or maybe it had always been there, and I just hadn’t noticed. I could feel it now, like an unspoken promise lingering between us, a tension that had been building all day.

As the day went on, we did simple things, moving through the house together as if no time had passed. But everything felt charged with an undercurrent of anticipation. While cleaning up after breakfast, I leaned over to grab a towel, and my lips grazed his cheek. It was innocent, but the way he turned to look at me, his eyes darkening for a split second, sent shivers through me. I could feel the heat radiating from him, a subtle shift in the way he held himself, like he was barely keeping himself in check.

When we were done, we sat down for dinner, the hum of the day settling around us. We shared a quiet meal, talking about nothing and everything, but I couldn’t ignore the way my body reacted every time he looked at me, every time his hand brushed against mine as he passed me the salt. It was like a fire slowly building, and I wasn’t sure how much longer I could stand it.

After dinner, as we cleaned the kitchen, I found myself trailing my fingers along his arm as I walked past, the simple contact enough to send sparks up my spine. He didn’t say anything, but the way his muscles tensed beneath my touch, the way his breathing hitched just slightly, told me everything I needed to know. He felt it too.

It wasn’t until later, when the day had finally quieted and the house was still, that I found the little shopping bag I had tucked away after my surgery. I had bought it specifically for him—a surprise I’d planned for when I could finally see him again. Smiling to myself, I slipped into the bathroom to change. The lace clung to my skin like a second layer, soft and delicate, making me feel beautiful and powerful all at once.

When I emerged from the bathroom, Adrian was lying in bed, propped up against the pillows, flipping through a book. He glanced up as I stepped into the room, and the moment his eyes landed on me, the air shifted. His gaze traveled over me, slowly, his eyes darkening with a need that made my pulse quicken.

I walked toward him, feeling the tension between us build with every step. He didn’t say a word, but the way he watched me, the way his hand gripped the book a little tighter, told me everything. I slipped into bed beside him, feeling the warmth of his body radiate toward mine as I settled against the pillows.

For a while, we just lay there, the soft rustle of the sheets the only sound in the room. His arm wrapped around me, pulling me closer, and I rested my head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. There was something so peaceful about it, the quiet intimacy of just being together like this. But underneath the calm, there was an undeniable heat, a tension that buzzed between us, waiting to ignite.

His fingers traced absent patterns on my skin, his touch light but deliberate, sending shivers through me with every stroke. I sighed contentedly, my eyes drifting closed, savoring the moment. But soon, his touch grew firmer, more insistent, until I could feel the need in his movements, the way his hand tightened on my hip as he pulled me closer.

Sometime in the night, I woke to the softest of touches. His hands were on me, sliding over my skin in a way that felt reverent and possessive all at once. His lips followed, kissing a trail down my neck, his breath hot against my skin. My body responded instantly, arching toward him as his hands continued their slow, sensual exploration.

I whispered his name, my voice heavy with sleep and desire, and he looked up at me, his eyes dark with a mix of adoration and need. There was a hunger in his gaze, but it wasn’t harsh or demanding. It was patient, as if he was savoring every second, every touch. His lips brushed over mine in a slow, deliberate kiss, his hand sliding up my thigh, the lace of my lingerie bunching up beneath his fingers as he pressed himself against me

In that moment, it was as if everything fell away- it was just us. The soft sighs, the whispered words, the way his body moved against mine, each touch more tender and intense than last. It was the culmination of everything we had built throughout the day- the quiet glances, the lingering touches, the unspoken desire. And now finally, there was nothing holding us back