Chapter 80: Chapter 73: Praise

The night was one of endless passion.

Though Shane Sterling started out as a rookie, he quickly got the hang of it, moving with confident ease.

The sheets were rumpled into waves. They were like fish cast upon the sand, exchanging breaths in a dizzying, breathless haze.

“Isabelle… Isabelle… Isabelle…”

It was as if her name had taken root between his lips; every time his Adam’s apple bobbed, his mouth would automatically form the word “Isabelle.”

He must have called out her name hundreds of times that night, each utterance a confirmation that she was truly there, in his world.

By the end, Isla Prescott was utterly spent.

Shane Sterling carried her to the bathroom to get cleaned up. After her shower, Isla Prescott fell asleep the moment her head touched the pillow. Shane Sterling then began gathering the clothes strewn across the floor and putting them in the washing machine.

By the time he finished, Isla Prescott was fast asleep.

Shane Sterling sat on the edge of the bed, watching her quietly. Her face was serene in sleep, her breathing steady. An occasional, muffled murmur would escape her lips, compelling him to lean in and listen. But by the time he drew near, all he could catch was a wisp of her warm, sweet scent.

He slid back into bed and gently gathered her into his embrace.

In that moment, she was unguarded, soft, and completely his.

The next day, Isla Prescott didn’t wake up until noon.

When she opened her eyes, the room was pitch-black, the curtains drawn tight. Thinking it was still early, she rolled over to grab her phone. The screen lit up, revealing it was already eleven in the morning.

’Oh no, I had a meeting this morning, and there’s a video that needs to be edited.’

She scrambled to find her clothes and get dressed. The moment her feet hit the floor, she nearly stumbled. A deep ache radiated from her back through all her limbs; she felt as if a steamroller had run her over three times.

The pain brought with it flashes of the previous night’s steamy scenes.

“Isabelle… Isabelle… Isabelle…”

His voice echoed in her ears, playing on a loop.

She covered her face and rushed into the bathroom.

She didn’t know when, but Shane Sterling had gone to her apartment and moved all of her toiletries onto his bathroom counter.

Isla Prescott splashed her face with a handful of cool water. Looking up, she spotted a hickey from Shane Sterling just below her collarbone. The deep red mark was like a single, crushed rose petal on freshly fallen snow.

If the chattering little kids in her class saw this, they’d pester her endlessly until they got an answer.

’I’m already running late, and now I have to deal with putting on concealer, too.’

Fuming, Isla Prescott silently cursed Shane Sterling.

As if on cue, the door CLICKED open and Shane Sterling walked in.

He wore a black shirt with the sleeves rolled to his forearms. An expensive mechanical watch with a coolly gleaming face was fastened on his wrist. He embodied a contradiction, a tug-of-war between elegance and roguish charm.

“Just woke up?”

Shane Sterling walked toward her. His long legs, clad in dark slacks, exuded a subtle pressure with every step.

Isla Prescott’s mind flashed back to the night before—to how those same legs had knelt before her.

It was as if a stone had been tossed into her heart, sending tingling ripples spreading outward.

She avoided his gaze. “Why’d you draw the curtains so tight? I’m late.”

’She knew for a fact the curtains hadn’t been drawn last night. The pure moonlight had only heightened their frenzy, lending the moment a sacred, dappled quality.’

“I already called in for you.”

“With Annie?”

“Mhm.”

“What did you say?”

“That you were too tired to get out of bed.”

Isla felt her world go dark. “And what did she say?”

“She praised my performance.”

Her world went dark all over again. “I’m being serious.”

“I’m not kidding. That’s exactly what she said.”

“You think she was actually praising your ’performance’? Or was she being sarcastic because you made me miss work?”

“Doesn’t matter.” Shane Sterling came over and hugged her. “All that matters is that *you* know how good my performance is.”

Isla’s cheeks flushed as she pushed him away. “I’m really going to be late.”

“Don’t worry. Your meeting was moved to the afternoon. Annabelle Leighton said she’ll edit the video. She told you to come in after you’ve gotten plenty of sleep.”

“So you decided to save the most important part for last, and lead with praising your own performance?”

He held her close, nuzzling her cheek with his nose. “So, why don’t you, the person in question, tell me… how was my performance?”

“Good. Very good. Exceptionally good.”

Shane Sterling laughed. “I’m going to take your word for it.”

’But it was true.’

For all his teasing, in bed, Shane Sterling was a truly gentle and gentlemanly lover.

The beauty of intimacy wasn’t about technique, but about genuine emotion and mutual respect. Even if Shane Sterling was clumsy at times, Isla Prescott could feel how much he cherished and cared for her.

For her, the emotional connection was more important than the physical experience—though, of course, the physical experience he gave her was pretty stunning too.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep