Never Again Yours (Isadora and Magnus) novel Chapter 193

What was she so afraid of?

She was afraid of losing herself all over again—of giving her heart to something that was never really hers, only to end up shattered and scarred.

If she made the same mistake twice, Isadora knew she’d never escape the wreckage. So the only way to survive was to pull herself back before it was too late.

Victor’s lips barely parted, teasing her shimmering, wine-red mouth with a deliciously provocative touch.

To him, Isadora was a constant challenge—a woman who tested his patience at every turn. She was hot and cold, close and distant, keeping him guessing in ways no one ever had. Victor had always been arrogant, proud, a man who orchestrated every outcome, every detail, always in control. But when he heard that Magnus had rescued her, he dreaded that she might melt again, that she’d slip away from him.

A sharp jolt of pleasure danced through her veins, electric and wild, sending Isadora’s pulse racing.

She couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped her lips—soft, seductive, the kind of sound that could drive a man mad.

“You want me too,” Victor murmured, his gaze dark and intense, filled with a burning hunger that threatened to swallow her whole.

Isadora clung to the last shreds of her composure. “Victor, can’t we just… talk for a minute?”

“No,” he said, voice low, before claiming her mouth once more. One hand gripped her waist, the other cupped her chin, keeping her right where he wanted her.

His kiss was fierce and demanding, tasting of smoke and pine, flooding her senses until her legs went weak.

Victor’s hand slid down, gently lifting her injured leg, careful not to hurt her.

At the last moment, Isadora’s eyes flew open. “Victor, stop!”

He pressed his forehead to hers, gazing deep into her eyes, his own dark and unyielding.

Victor washed her with gentle hands, his palms gliding over her, her skin impossibly soft and delicate.

His stomach tightened again at the sight of her, but he forced himself to stop—he knew she couldn’t take another round.

He didn’t linger. Soon, he wrapped her in a thick towel and carried her back to bed, then carefully dried her long hair with a blow dryer.

Isadora was still lost in the afterglow, her mind hazy, teetering between clarity and dream.

“Victor—you seem to really like… my body,” she teased, her voice barely above a whisper.

He helped her into a mist-blue silk nightgown he’d set aside for her, only grunting in response, a small, satisfied smile tugging at his lips.