the Tale of Sir Isaac



“The way she just barged in here and … oh, I don’t know. For the awkwardness of it.” She lifted his hand and kissed it, lingering over each knuckle. “She really will come back in here if we don’t do as she says.” With a mischievous glint, Summer hopped out of bed, taking the blankets totally off the end of the bed with her.

“That’s hardly your fault — in fact, I think it’s brilliant that your servants are so comfortable with you,” he stated with obvious admiration, breath hitching as she peppered his hand with kisses, his fingers caressing her face. And, as soon as his naked body was bared to the air, he huffed and slowly sat up, stretching languidly. 

“Isaac!” she exclaimed, putting her hands over her face. “How am I supposed to behave if you do that?”

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