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“I’ve had a taste of life without you, Iris… and I hated every goddamned second of it. I felt empty, lost. I could barely function. And I despised myself for driving you away. If my career is what keeps us apart, I would despise that too.”
She sighed. The sound was soft and resigned.
“I love you, Trystan. More than enough to risk my heart again. But I warn you, it’s fragile and I’m trusting you not to break it again… because I don’t think I’d recover from a next time.”
He lifted her hand to his face, nuzzling his stubbled cheek into her palm, before turning his head to press a worshipful kiss on her soft skin. His eyes were screwed shut, but that did not prevent a silvery bead of moisture from escaping and streaking down his lean cheek to catch in the dark stubble on his jaw.
His chest was shuddering and it took Iris a moment to realize that what she was hearing were sobs, and what she was seeing were tears.
Her throat closed up and she tugged her hand from beneath his to wrap her arms around his waist and hold him close.
He collapsed against her, weak and helpless in her arms as he buried his head on her shoulder and shook in her arms. The storm of emotion passed after a few endless moments and when his lips sought hers, Iris welcomed them with heartfelt enthusiasm.
His big hands came up to cradle her face, while his thumbs tilted her jaw upwards to better accommodate his demanding, scorching kiss.
By the time their tongues got involved, he’d somehow marched her backward toward a bedroom. Iris only realized where they were when the backs of her knees hit the edge of a mattress.
She jerked her head up and cast him a narrow-eyed glower.
“Mr. Abbott, have you lured me into your bedroom?” she teased and he looked uncertain for a second before his kiss-swollen lips spread into a wide, happy smile.
“Why, yes, I have, Miss Hughes…”
“And do you have seduction in mind, sir?” she asked in a scandalized whisper.
“I’m gonna seduct you so hard you won’t be able to walk straight for a week, ma’am,” he affirmed lazily.
“Seduct isn’t a word, sir.”
“It should be,” he said. “It rhymes so very nicely with fucked.”
She laughed, the sound giddy and lighthearted. After the intensity of the past hour, as well as the days, weeks they’d been apart, the humor was a welcome relief.
“Well, then,” she said, running her fingers over his shorn hair, loving the texture of the buzz cut against her palm. “Seduct me long and hard, babe. I’m ready.”
He growled, the sound was low and feral and sent a thrill of anticipation up Iris’s spine. It reminded her of that wounded beast she’d first met all those weeks ago and her pussy throbbed in reaction to the sound, already wet and swollen, while her nipples tightened to the point of pain.
He nudged her onto the bed and kneed his way between her thighs, taking her mouth in another deep, suctioning kiss that turned her bones to jelly.
“Don’t think I told you how sexy I find this uniform,” his said, voice guttural, while he clumsily pawed at the buttons of her waistcoat. “You have an outstanding arse but in this getup, it’s positively sinful.” He dropped a hand to her butt and squeezed, almost roughly. Iris whimpered, loving his dominant possessiveness. Something told her she was in for a wild ride. He seemed unable to get himself under control, and she loved it.
He unsnapped the button on her trousers, and slid the flat of his hand down the front, inside her panties until he’d palmed her crudely. His long fingers skirted over her throbbing clit and headed straight for her entrance, where he found her soaking wet and scalding hot. He sank two fingers into her without any warning and Iris keened and arched into his touch, her clit pressed into his palm while her swollen flesh clenched around his invading fingers and she orgasmed without any warning whatsoever.
She muffled her scream against his bicep and then bit down on the taut flesh when her brain shut down and white-hot light blinded her to anything but the intense pleasure of her climax.
By the time she drifted down from that amazing peak, he had her waistcoat and shirt unbuttoned and spread open, and was busy peeling her trousers off. She could do nothing but watch him, as she lay limp and sated on the bed, feeling a little like an unwrapped present waiting to be thoroughly enjoyed by its recipient.
When he finally managed to tug the black pants free, Iris lay there waiting, legs splayed, arms outstretched, nipples big and hard, a smug, contented grin on her face. She felt decadent, lazy, pampered and spoiled… while the sexiest man in the world stared at her like she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. And then he started to strip and she moaned as she watched more and more of that perfect body come into view. All hers, always, forever.
By the time he was completely naked, gorgeous cock hard and throbbing for her, she was panting, and hungry for him, aching for what she knew he would give her.
He fumbled with a condom, not as suave as he liked to think he was, and she loved that too… loved that he was clumsy in his eagerness to be with her. Loved that her perfect man was not so perfect after all, but flawed and human.
When he pushed into her, she cried out, helpless to stop the sound from spilling out into the reverent silence that had fallen between them, and when she tightened around him, a similar sound tore itself from his chest.
Their union felt familiar, yet new, the craving and urgency after so long apart lending a frenetic pace to their coupling that had been absent in their previous lovemaking. But that didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except that Iris loved Trystan. And Trystan loved Iris. Together they could and would conquer mountains.
Trystan swore softly, a low, urgent fuck as he lost control, and seemed barely able to restrain himself as he pounded into her harder and faster. Iris loved it. She raked her nails down the length of his back, then dug her fingers into his rapidly thrusting tight arse as she brought her knees up and pushed her feet down on the backs of his thighs.
