Isla Prescott's face flushed.
Sometimes, she was truly in awe of Shane Sterling. His every action carried a certain radiance, an open and honest quality that was utterly captivating. No matter what he said, it always came out sounding completely candid.
She didn't say yes or no. But as his lips met hers, she parted them in welcome.
In an instant, their breathing grew ragged and intertwined.
As Shane Sterling's touch found her most sensitive places, Isla Prescott instinctively tried to pull away, but he only held her tighter, more assertively.
Pressed flush against each other, they could feel with startling clarity how their bodies were reacting.
After a few moments tangled together on the sofa, Shane Sterling scooped Isla Prescott into his arms, kissing her all the way to the bed.
His bathrobe fell to the floor. At some point, Isla Prescott's nightgown had been torn, and now it hung from her frame, half-covering, half-revealing.
