So there I was, getting home super late, and Isabelle Deltora is just passed out in my bed, all tangled up in the sheets, looking way too peaceful for what I had planned, and honestly, even though I tried to be quiet, just the sound of my keys hitting the table was enough to stir her, and when those gorgeous blue eyes finally fluttered open, she didn’t even say hi—she just looked at me with this sleepy, knowing grin and started whispering all this filthy, dirty stuff in that soft Aussie drawl that completely short-circuited my brain, and let me tell you, the way she stretched her arms above her head, arching her back like a cat, made my mouth go dry because that Little Caprice Dreams vibe is real, it’s not just some brand, it’s the way she owns every inch of the room without even trying, and the next thing I know, I’m kneeling on the floor while she sits up and runs her fingers through her messy blonde hair, telling me exactly what she wants, no hesitation, no shyness, just pure, unapologetic desire that had my heart hammering in my chest, and the buildup was insane because she kept teasing, dragging it out, making me watch her as she touched herself, her eyes locked on mine the entire time like she was daring me to look away, and I couldn’t, I absolutely couldn’t, because the way her breathing hitched and how she bit her lower lip when she got close was the most mesmerizing thing I’ve ever witnessed, and when she finally let go, it was this intense, overwhelming rush that left her completely wrecked, sweat glistening on her skin, and the sight of her like that, so raw and vulnerable yet so powerful, is something that’s burned into my memory forever, and we just lay there afterward, catching our breath, and she laughed this low, throaty laugh that told me we were far from done for the night.
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Date: October 31, 2026
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