Chapter 286
Chapter 50
The days leading up to the wedding were a whirlwind of chaos, with
guests milling about the manor, laughter echoing through the halls,
and the staff bustling to keep up with the demands of the impromptu
celebration. But amidst the flurry of activity, Graham always found a
way to steal moments with Isla–moments that left her breathless,
flushed, and trembling with a mix of desire and fear.
Despite the presence of four or five guests staying in the house, Graham had an uncanny ability to corner her in the most unexpected places. It was as if he had a sixth sense for finding the quiet, hidden corners of the manor, places where they could be alone–or at least,
where they thought they were alone.
One afternoon, he caught her in the library, a room filled with towering bookshelves and the faint scent of aged paper. She had been browsing the shelves, her fingers trailing over the spines of old novels, when she felt his presence behind her. Before she could turn,
his arms were around her, his chest pressing against her back as he
leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing,
sending a shiver down her spine.
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“I haven’t,” she protested, though her voice was breathless, betraying
her nerves.
“Liar,” he whispered, his hands sliding down her arms, his touch
sending sparks of electricity through her. He turned her to face him,
his eyes dark with desire as he backed her against the bookshelf.
“You’ve been driving me mad, walking around in that dress, looking
so damn tempting.”
Before she could respond, his lips were on hers, his kiss deep and
demanding, leaving no room for protest. His hands roamed her body,
one sliding down to grip her thigh, hiking her leg up around his hip as
he pressed himself against her. She gasped into his mouth, her heart
racing as she realized how exposed they were–anyone could walk in
at any moment.
“Graham,” she whispered, her voice trembling, “someone could see
us.”
“Let them,” he growled, his lips trailing down her neck, his teeth
grazing her skin in a way that made her knees weak. “Let them see
how much I want you. How much you’re mine.”
His words sent a thrill through her, even as her cheeks burned with
embarrassment. She wanted to push him away, to scold him for being
so reckless, but her body betrayed her, arching into his touch, her
hands clutching at his shoulders as he kissed her with a hunger that
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left her breathless.
And then, just as quickly as he had started, he pulled away, leaving
her trembling and flushed, her lips swollen and her heart pounding.
He smirked, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he adjusted his jacket and stepped back. “Until tonight,” he murmured, his voice a low
promise that sent a fresh wave of heat through her.
That night, as the house grew quiet and the guests retired to their rooms, Isla lay in bed, her body still humming with the memory of his touch. She had conveniently forgotten to lock her door, and she knew it was only a matter of time before he appeared. Sure enough, the door creaked open, and Graham slipped inside, his silhouette outlined by the faint moonlight streaming through the window.
“You’re late,” she whispered, though her voice was filled with
anticipation rather than annoyance.
“I had to make sure everyone was asleep,” he replied, his voice low and rough as he crossed the room to her bed. He sat on the edge, his hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair from her face. “But now
I’m here, and I’m not leaving until I’ve had my fill of you.”
His words sent a shiver down her spine, and she didn’t have time to respond before his lips were on hers, his kiss deep and possessive, his
hands already roaming her body. He pushed the sheets aside, his fingers trailing down her stomach, slipping beneath the waistband of
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her panties. She gasped, her back arching as he touched her, his
fingers skilled and deliberate, teasing her until she was trembling on
the edge.
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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.
