75. ICY TOUCH

ISLA’S POV. The car hadn’t even fully stopped before I pushed the door open, stepping out without waiting for anyone. My legs were still shaky, my body still humming from earlier, but I didn’t care. “Love?” Remy called after me, his voice calm but tinged with curiosity. I ignored him, walking faster toward the entrance of the mansion, my heels clicking against the pavement. The moment I stepped inside, I kicked off my heels, letting them clatter to the side. My fingers reached for the zipper at the back of my dress, tugging it down hurriedly, desperate to shed every barrier between us. By the time I heard the door close behind me, the dress slid down my body, pooling at my feet. I stood there, bare, my chest rising and falling as I turned to face him. Remy stopped in his tracks, his gaze darkened, trailing from my bare feet, over my thighs, and up to my eyes. His silence said everything. “Do you like it?” I asked, my voice low, sultry, as I walked toward him. He didn’t answer. Instead,