Oh, no! Now I’ve made her feel bad about doing her job. I can’t let her take the guilt for this; it’s obviously my own damn fault for jumping the guy. Still, if I try to console her by saying that we’ll get into an endless cycle of “No, it’smyfault.” I scramble for something else to say to avoid heading down that path.
“Iris, we could spend all night arguing about who’s responsible for what. How about we drop that bit? Yes, you asked me to fill in when Sloan quit the campaign, but I didn’t have to agree to it. I’m just as much to blame. I wasn’t ready for an instant fanbase, and I certainly wasn’t ready to see someone accosting you and Hailey.” I sigh and shake my head to try to clear it of the all-too-vivid memory. “That was terrifying. I mean, you hear horror stories about paparazzi getting out of hand, but I never thought it would happen to people I care about. I never thought it would happen to you.”
“I’m okay, Micah. He just grabbed my shirt; he never hurt me.”
Her voice is soft, soothing, almost hypnotic. The fingers on my arm trace my tattoos in a repetitive pattern, and like some witchy spell, it calms me. I close my eyes and focus on the feel of her fingertips on my skin.
“You like that, Micah?”
“Mm-hm. It’s nice.”
Fabric rustles, and the next thing I know Iris’s lips brush my earlobe. “There’s a couple other modifications of yours I’d like to touch.”
I go from zero to boner in one point three seconds flat. I suck in a breath and turn to meet her mouth with mine. Iris jerks back just out of reach. By the devious grin on her face, she’s teasing me.
“Here in the kitchen, Micah? Really?” She winks. “I mean, these barstools aren’t the most comfortable, and I don’t think they’d hold both our weight …”
I decide to roll with her teasing mood. “Maybe I don’t want to fuck you on the barstool. Maybe I want you on your feet, bent over the island.” Her eyes widen, and she licks her lips. “Maybe I want your bare tits pressed into the cold marble while I ram into you.”
Iris shivers. “Ooh! You’re demanding all of a sudden.”
She starts to pull off her shirt, but I stop her.
“Nope. Keep them on for now. I hope you don’t have any emotional attachment to these clothes, because I’m going to rip them right the fuck off of you.”
I grab her shoulders and spin her around so she’s facing the counter, and she lets out a playful shriek. Before I end up smashing her into a mayonnaise jar or something, I swipe my arm across the counter, dumping everything onto the floor. The knife clatters, but thankfully the jar is plastic. The lid was off—that’s going to be a mess to clean up later—and the tomatoes land face down, but whatever. Iris seems to be enjoying this little game, so that’s all that matters.
“Grab the counter.”
Iris does as she’s told.
“Good girl. Now lean over.”
When she does, my dick jerks at the sight of her round, firm ass on display for me. I run my hands over the taut globes, sliding the waist of her pants down below her hips. A lacy black thong remains, and I’m a little disappointed that it blocks my view of her sweet, wet cunt. I hook two fingers under the stringy material and move it down with her leggings. There. Absolutely fucking beautiful.
Next, I wrap my hands around her waist and push her tank top up until her breasts are exposed. I place the palm of my hand on her upper back and push until her tits are flat against the counter. She gasps as the sudden cold presses into her, and I rub her back to comfort her in case this is getting to be too much.
As if she reads my mind, Iris turns her head to look at me out of the corner of her eye. “When does the ramming begin?”
“Shh. I’m enjoying the view right now.” I run a finger back and forth over her slit, coating it in her. She glistens with how wet she is, and I stare long enough to burn the image in my mind.
“Open wide, Iris.” She obeys, and I slide my wet finger into her mouth. “Now suck it clean, baby.”
The sheer eroticism of her licking and sucking her own pussy juices from my finger is almost too much for me. This woman knows what I like, knows how to ignite every horny neuron in me, and it’s fucking heaven.
While she sucks me clean, I take the opportunity to unzip my pants, whip my dick out, and inch it inside her tight pussy. Iris gasps, and she tries to spread her legs for me, but I stop her.
“No. Just like you are. Just like this.”
She nods with a small whimper. “Stop teasing, Micah. Fuck me. Fuck me hard.” There’s desperation in her voice, a plea that borders on begging.
I grab one of the braids I put in her hair earlier and wrap it around my fist. “You ready?”
She nods again—as much as my grip will allow, anyway—and swallows hard as I start to move in and out. The sweet suction of her cunt around my cock almost pulls me back in every time I slide backwards, and I put my free hand on her hip for better control. Even her pussy wants me to slam into her, but eager as I am, I want to savor this, too.
With slow precision, I pump in and out. Iris’s moans and gasps entice me, and bit by bit I pick up the pace. Within minutes, I’m slamming into her so hard I worry I’m going to bruise her hips on the counter, but she doesn’t complain. She doesn’t say anything—no words, just sounds. A whole symphony of notes, sung just for me. I hope Hailey doesn’t wake up from it, especially after her trauma from earlier today. I’d hate for her to see this and think I’m hurting Iris …
Fuck it. If she comes downstairs and sees us, I’ll explain after. I can’t stop now.
