His to Preserve

ISLA’S POV:“Hello Sab, did you miss me?, I yelled bursting into my best friend's house trying to get her to wake up“ Sabrina Sanders, wake your grumpy gorgeous ass up” She frowned and threw her pillows at me, I ducked one and let the other hit me. I casually strolled in as she got up squinting against the morning light. “Sab, you're not gonna believe who just got a job” I murmured.She rubbed the sleep off her eyes while sitting up eyes wide. Her suspicion turned to curiosity as she saw the tears well up in my eyes.“Really Isla, if you're fucking with me I swear to God I'm gonna whoop…no no way, really?” “It's true Sab,” I murmured my voice cracking as I held out my phone, the email glowing on the screen.“I got it”.She snatched the phone, her eyes scanning the text. Her voice dropped “Oh my God Isla, I'm so fucking proud of you my best friend, Thorne and co???, You just got a job at Thorne and Co?” she whispered in disbelief which quickly turned into pure joy.“Yeah, Sab… I'

ISLA’S POV:The Thorne's library was located on the West wing of the mansion behind a dark heavy oak door filled rich comforting aroma of old books. The shelves were adorned in rich mahogany which stretched towards the glass ceilings. Light rays poured through the massive arched windows brightening the dust specks that drifted lazily in the air. The scent of old parchment, polished wood, and faint sandalwood from Cade’s cologne clung to the room, seeping into me like a memory I didn’t want to acknowledge.“This is where you’ll spend most of your time, Miss Campbell.” Eleanor’s clipped voice dragged through the quiet room. She pointed to a polished oak desk set in front of the grand windows. “Cataloguing, restoring, documenting… you’ll have everything you need.”Her words barely landed. My mind was too loud, echoing with the sound of Cade’s voice in his office, his dark, hungry gaze when he recognized me. “Excuse me, Mr. Thorne requires me elsewhere. You’ll be fine here until the staf

ISLA’S POV:Cade pulled me into my room without breaking the kiss. His kiss wasn't gentle; it was a claiming kiss. Which trailed from my jawline down to my neck, stopping to suckle as well.He peppered kisses from my neck down to my hardened nipple and traced his tongue around my swollen bud, squeezing, flicking, and sucking.“Let me worship you like the queen that you are Isla”.His voice was a low vibration that echoed within me.“Allow me to bend you, baby, let me hear my name on your lips” He muttered against my stomachHis fingers found the tie of my robe and loosened it. The silk robe fell open and his fingers dug into my pussy making me squirm and my back arched off the bed with a gasp.“Cade…”I moaned.He kept on working my vaginal walls circling his thumb on my sensitive bud as his teeth grazed my earlobe. Pushing his finger deeper while stretching and preparing me, he deepened the kiss, his thumb left my pussy to twist and tease my hardened bud. I cried out in bliss.“You’re

ISLA’S POV: The car ride was a world away from Cade's tense silent treatment, sandalwood scent, and Eleanor's pointed stare. Guess she has seen the comments and told her boss already. “You look like you're on your way to your execution, not some lunch break,” Lucan said, gazing at me. I unclenched my hand in my lap, took a deep breath, and relaxed my back on the posh seats. The car glided to a halt outside the elegant restaurant. Lucan didn't wait for the chauffeur, instead, he opened my door himself and guided me inside with a light hand on the small of my back. We sat at a quiet secluded table. I nervously checked my phone since it's been vibrating in my bag. Three missed calls from Sab, she probably wants the latest gists. I’d call her back, I thought shoving the phone back into my bag. Lucan began after we ordered “Now let’s talk about why a professional historian is sorting through old, dusty receipts and being publicly humiliated by my brother's… “You've seen it?”

ISLA’S POVThe Thorne library was where I sought some peace and quiet. It was my safe space and I was trapped inside with the memories of Cade’s touch and the PR statement released that morning. It was a cold, expressive article that made our raw, hot, hotel-room passion sound like an insignificant social slip-up and we were responsible for our lives and the choices we make.My professional reputation was being polished and my achievements were listed and emphasized. While I still felt uneasy as I read the article, all I could see was the scorn on Eleanor's face when she announced the situation had been addressed.Eleanor always looked far from polite and her cold demeanor says it all. She looks like she underwent a few cosmetic surgeries and it just doesn't add up. Her flawless face and porcelain skin don't match the scar and aged skin on her hand. But I am here as a historian, not some private investigator. I started from the new archival boxes Eleanor had delivered with passion.