Never Again Yours (Isadora and Magnus) novel Chapter 258

Victor’s tone turned teasing, almost flirtatious. “Don’t want it? Then what do you want? My brother instead?”

Isadora blushed, grabbed a small pillow from the couch, and threw it at him.

“I don’t want either of you!”

Victor reached out, caught her by the wrist, and pulled Isadora onto his lap. Leaning in close, his breath warm against her ear, he murmured, “Really? You don’t want anything?”

His hot breath sent a shiver down her spine. She hated how easily he could fluster her.

Lately, being with Victor felt like falling into a different kind of romance—one that made her heart race for all new reasons.

Half of their three-month arrangement had already slipped by, but neither of them had brought it up again. It was as if, sensing the approaching deadline, they both instinctively cherished what time they had left, unwilling to spoil it by speaking of the end.

Isadora perched sideways on Victor’s lap, feeling the strength in his legs beneath her.

She slid her arms around his neck and pulled his head down toward her.

Leaning in, she gave his Adam’s apple a playful nip, grinning as she whispered, “I said, I really don’t want anything.”

Victor’s throat bobbed beneath her teasing, his eyes growing dark and intense.

He couldn’t remember her ever being so bold before.

He lowered his head, eyes smoldering, voice rough and low. “You say you don’t want anything, but you’re still biting me—are you part wolf, huh?”

Isadora felt her skin flush under his gaze. At this distance, she could see every detail of his lashes, the cut of his eyes, and the way he was looking at her—hungry, almost tender.

Her lips brushed his, soft and cool, tinged with a faint trace of tobacco and something that was just him.

She lingered there, then pulled back just enough to challenge him, her mouth still barely touching his. “What, am I not allowed?”

Victor let out a low laugh.

Well, well. She knew how to tease him now.

Standing at the door was the housekeeper, holding onto a big, fluffy golden retriever.

“Sir, I brought Pudding in.”

Isadora peered over Victor’s shoulder, then leapt up with a delighted cry. “Pudding!”

Victor remembered—he’d arranged for someone to bring the silly dog over a couple of days ago. He hadn’t expected his own scheme to backfire like this.

He crouched down and scratched Pudding’s chin, muttering, “Alright, buddy, you’ll have to entertain yourself for a while, got it?”

Pudding had no interest in him—he wriggled free and bounded straight for Isadora, barking with excitement.

She hadn’t seen the dog in ages and was overjoyed, wrapping her arms around him despite his size.

Victor closed the door and crossed his arms, watching as Isadora and the dog sprawled together on the same sofa where, just moments earlier, he’d been ready for things to get a lot more interesting.

He couldn’t help feeling just a little bit put out. Wasn’t it going to be a little crowded tonight—with two humans and one overenthusiastic dog?