The End Of a Marriage
Chapter 281
She had dreamed of a wedding her whole life. Not just a dress or a
venue but the feeling of it–the joy, the anticipation, the once–in–a-
lifetime moment when she would stand in front of the man she loved,
surrounded by family and friends, and vow to spend forever with him.
But Graham had stolen that moment from her without hesitation,
without consideration. Because he had decided three days was
enough. He had decided there was no need for fanfare. He had
decided this was how things would go.
And Graham Lancaster’s decisions were final.
He stood there, his expression cool and composed, as if the matter had already been settled and any objections would be pointless. There was no softness in his gaze, no hesitation in his voice. He
didn’t ask her what she wanted. He didn’t even pretend to.
But at least Graham was excited.
And wasn’t that supposed to mean something?
He wanted to marry her. Quickly. That had to be a good thing, didn’t it? A sign that he couldn’t wait to have her, that he was eager to make
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her his. Surely, it meant that this marriage–though decided for her
rather than with her–was going to work.
So what if there wouldn’t be a grand wedding? What did it matter if
there was no celebration, no dreamy white dress, no extravagant
details that other women spent months obsessing over?
Isla was half–asleep, drifting in and out of dreams, exhaustion from
the day weighing heavily on her. The whirlwind of events–Graham’s
announcement, the hushed reactions of the staff, and her own silent
turmoil–had drained her completely. She had barely changed into
her nightclothes before collapsing onto her small bed, seeking the
comfort of sleep to quiet her restless mind.
But then–something shifted.
A presence. A weight pressing down beside her.
Before she could fully wake, a strong hand covered her mouth,
muffling the startled gasp that threatened to escape. Her heart leapt
into her throat, her body stiffening beneath the unexpected touch.
But before fear could take hold, she felt the familiar warmth, the
unmistakable scent of him–Graham.
His broad frame barely fit on the small mattress, his body enveloping
hers as he leaned in closer, his voice a low whisper in the dim light.
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“Shh…” He hushed her softly, his finger pressing lightly against her
lips before he withdrew his hand.
Her breathing was uneven, her mind racing to catch up, but before
she could say a word, he silenced her in a way that made the air
between them crackle–his lips covering hers in a slow, deliberate
kiss.
“Don’t scream the house down, darling,” he murmured against her
lips, his voice thick with amusement. “I think some of the staff are
still awake.”
Isla’s breath hitched as Graham’s lips crashed down on hers, his kiss
fierce and demanding, leaving no room for hesitation. His tongue
swept into her mouth, claiming her with a hunger that made her head
spin. The sensation was electric, his tongue sliding against hers in a
slow, deliberate rhythm that sent shivers of pleasure coursing
through her. She moaned into his mouth, the sound muffled but filled
with need, her hands gripping his shoulders as she tried to steady
herself.
But Graham wasn’t content with just kissing her. His hands, bold and
unyielding, moved with purpose, leaving no doubt about what he
wanted. With no preamble, no gentle exploration, his fingers found
her breasts, his touch firm and insistent. He teased her nipples
through the fabric of her blouse, pinching and rolling them between
his fingers until they hardened into tight, sensitive peaks. Isla
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gasped, her back arching as pleasure shot through her, her body
responding instantly to his touch.
He wasn’t gentle like he had been last night. There was no hesitation,
no tenderness–just raw, unrelenting desire. His fingers tugged at her
nipples, sending sparks of pleasure radiating through her, and she
cried out, the sound a mix of surprise and ecstasy. But Graham didn’t
stop. He seemed driven by a need to see her unravel, to push her to
the edge and beyond.
When he was satisfied with the results, he changed positions, his
mouth replacing his hands on her breasts. He pulled her blouse aside,
his lips finding her hardened nipples with unerring precision. His
tongue flicked over one peak, teasing it before he took it into his
mouth, sucking hard enough to make her cry out. The sensation was
overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and pain that left her trembling. His
teeth grazed her sensitive flesh, sending a jolt of electricity straight
to her core, and she gasped, her fingers tangling in his hair as she
held him to her.
“Graham…” she moaned, her voice trembling with need, but he
shushed her, his lips moving to her other breast, giving it the same
attention. His hands roamed her body, exploring every curve, every
inch of her, as if he couldn’t get enough. She felt consumed by him,
by his touch, his taste, his scent, and she never wanted it to end.
But Graham had other plans. He pulled back slightly, his eyes dark
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with desire as he looked down at her. “Spread your legs for me,
honey,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, sending a shiver down
her spine.
Isla’s breath caught in her throat, her heart pounding as she
hesitated for just a moment. But the look in his eyes, the intensity of
his desire, left no room for doubt. Slowly, she obeyed, her legs parting
for him, her body trembling with anticipation.
Graham’s gaze bûrned into her, his hands moving to her thighs, his
touch firm as he pushed them further apart. “That’s it,” he said, his
voice a low growl that made her pulse race. “Let me see you.”
She felt exposed, vulnerable, but also incredibly aroused. The way he
looked at her, the way his hands moved over her body, left no doubt
about what he wanted, and she wanted it too. She wanted him to
touch her, to claim her, to make her his in every way.
And as he leaned in, his lips brushing against her inner thigh, she
knew that this was just the beginning. The heat between them was
undeniable, the passion consuming, and she was ready to lose herself
in it, in him.
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
