Chapter 244
Graham could still vividly recall the torment of that morning. It was
supposed to be an ordinary breakfast–just the two of them seated across from each other in his expansive dining room, the morning sunlight filtering through the large windows, casting a soft glow over. the scene. The cook had quietly presented their meal before
retreating, leaving them in a bubble of silence.
But Isla, oblivious to the havoc she was wreaking, had picked up her spoon, dipped it into the yogurt, and brought it to her mouth with a languidness that bordered on sinful. Graham’s attention had been
immediate and involuntary, his gaze locking onto the way her lips
closed around the silver utensil. She sucked gently, absentmindedly
scrolling through her phone with her free hand, utterly unaware of
the effect she was having.
The sight of her tongue darting out to lick the spoon clean had been his undoing. His mind had betrayed him, conjuring images of that tongue exploring far more intimate places. Heat rushed to his core, pooling low in his abdomen, and for the first time in his life, Graham Lancaster–a man known for his iron control–felt completely undone. His body reacted with a ferocity that startled him, an aching hardness pressing uncomfortably against the confines of his tailored
pants.
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Chapter 244
He’d clenched his jaw, his teeth grinding in frustration. What the hell
is wrong with me? he’d thought. This wasn’t who he was. He wasn’t
some hormonal teenager, aroused by something as mundane as a
woman licking a spoon. He was a man of refinement, a man who had
always prided himself on his restraint. His affairs had been conducted
with elegance and maturity–discreet arrangements with
sophisticated women who knew the rules, who never demanded more.
than he was willing to give.
But Isla… Isla shattered all of that. She wasn’t refined or calculated.
She was raw, unpredictable, and maddeningly innocent in her ability
to arouse him without even trying. Graham had sat there, rigid and
uncomfortably aware of every tiny movement she made, his breath
shallow as he willed his body to calm down.
Yet, as the memory of that morning replayed in his mind, his current
predicament worsened. In the dimly lit confines of the town car, Isla
sat just inches away from him, her dress riding high on her smooth,
bare thighs. The stark white fabric contrasted against her sun–kissed
skin, the hem teasing at what lay just out of view. His pulse
quickened, his throat dry as his eyes darted to the window in a
desperate attempt to focus on anything but het.
But it was useless. Her scent lingered in the air–a mix of something floral and distinctly her. His fingers gripped the leather seat, knuckles
white with the effort it took to restrain himself. Every muscle in his
body was coiled tight, his mind spiraling into fantasies he couldn’t
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afford to entertain.
He tried to rationalize, to think of anything else–business deals, meetings, numbers–but none of it worked. All he could see was the curve of her legs, the way her lips had parted slightly as she adjusted her posture, and the memory of her licking that damned spoon.
His restraint was slipping, fraying with every passing second. He could feel it, the primal urge clawing at him, demanding he give in. His mind raced with forbidden thoughts–of pulling her onto his lap, feeling her soft skin under his hands, and tearing that delicate dress from her body to claim her right there in the backseat. The thought of the chauffeur catching sight of them only added a wicked thrill to the
fantasy.
Graham squeezed his eyes shut, exhaling through his nose as he fought to regain control. Enough. This was madness. He couldn’t let his desire consume him like this. Not now. Not here.
But as the car rolled on through the quiet streets, the air between them heavy with unspoken tension, Graham knew one thing for certain: his control was on borrowed time. And if Isla kept
unknowingly teasing him, he wouldn’t be able to hold himself back
much longer.
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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.
