Chapter 245
CHAPTER 30
The ride to hell mercifully ended as the car pulled up in front of his building. Graham was out of the vehicle in seconds, his long strides carrying him toward the elevator without a backward glance. Every nerve in his body screamed for distance–distance from her, from the maddening effect she had on him. His fingers itched to grab her, pull her close, and yet he knew he had to stay as far away as possible.
But fate wasn’t so kind. He groaned internally as Isla’s soft footsteps hurried behind him, her timing impeccable. She slipped into the elevator just as the doors were closing, and they ascended in silence. The tension between them was suffocating, the confined space amplifying every detail–the faint scent of her perfume, the delicate rise and fall of her chest, and the way her lips pursed, as if she were
deep in thought.
By the time they reached the penthouse, Graham was barely holding on. He needed air, space–anything to escape her intoxicating presence. Instead, it felt like she was everywhere. She trailed him through the house, her soft footsteps a constant reminder of her proximity. The kitchen, the balcony–she was there, her wide, innocent eyes watching him, oblivious to the fire raging inside him.
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Chapter 245
The final straw came when she followed him into his bedroom.
“ISLA!” His voice was sharper than he intended, and her wide–eyed expression made his chest tighten with guilt. But he couldn’t take it anymore–her closeness was driving him insane.
“I-” she stammered, her words tumbling out in a rush. “I just wanted to say… I want to go back to Thornfield Manor tomorrow.”
She spoke so quickly, so nervously, that she seemed almost afraid of his response. Her wide, doe–like eyes peered up at him as though she expected him to sprout horns and charge at her. And perhaps, in a way, he would’ve liked to.
“Right.” The single word hissed through his clenched teeth, his jaw so
tight it felt like it might crack.
“Good night then,” she murmured, retreating quickly. The soft click of the door closing behind her was like a starter pistol to the chaos in
his mind.
Alone in the quiet of his room, Graham leaned against the door, his fists clenching at his sides as he fought to control the storm raging within him. His mind screamed for release, his body desperate for the touch he craved but couldn’t allow himself to take.
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Chapter 245
God, why couldn’t I be that man? he thought bitterly. If he were the kind of man who lived without restraint, without morals, he could storm into her room right now. He could pin her soft, delicate body beneath his, feel the heat of her skin, the intoxicating warmth of her untouched core. The mere thought made his pulse hammer in his veins, his body aching with unfulfilled need.
He could imagine it so clearly–her breathless gasps as he claimed her, the way her fingers might clutch at his back, the arch of her body as he pushed her to the edge again and again. The fantasy burned in his mind, vivid and tantalizing, but it was also laced with guilt.
Because Isla wasn’t just any woman. She was innocent–completely untouched, her body unmarked by any man’s hands before him. He couldn’t bring himself to take her like some selfish brute, to use her to satiate the relentless hunger that consumed him and then discard
her.
But walking away from her was proving impossible. Every fiber of his being wanted her. Needed her. His body was a traitor, hard and aching, his need so raw and desperate that it bordered on agony. He wanted to lose himself in her, to feel her soft curves pressed against him, her voice crying out his name as he made her his.
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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.
