"You feel so good," I groan. "Your cunt is gripping me so tight."
She whimpers, her eyes fluttering shut. "Harder," she demands.
I oblige, thrusting deeper but keeping the rhythm controlled. It's torture, this restraint, but it's worth it to see her unravel. Sweat beads on my brow, and I can feel more of it trickling down my back.
Her breasts bounce with each movement, and I lean down to capture a nipple, sucking as I fuck her.
"I'm close again," she pants. "Don't stop."
I grind against her, my pubic bone pressing on her clit, and she comes undone, her cunt pulsing around my cock in waves. It's enough to tip me over the edge. I bury my face in her neck, groaning as I spill inside her, hot and deep.
We stay like that for a moment, tangled and sated, breaths mingling. But even as the afterglow settles, the racing thoughts creep in again.
I roll off her, pulling her into my arms and covering us with the top sheet. I’ll just hold her for a little while and then I’ll go back to my room.
She snuggles closer, murmuring, "That was amazing." And then immediately falls asleep.
Anytime now, I’ll get up and leave her to sleep on her own.
But the night stretches on, and I don’t leave.
Iris snoozes beside me, her breathing even, one leg thrown over mine possessively.
The room is warm, the faint scent of our sex lingering in the air. Lucien’s house feels like a sanctuary, far from the violence we saw on the streets of the capital. But I know it’s an illusion.
Soon, real life will intrude on this moment, and I’ll have to give up Iris. Send her home so she can be safe. And that will only happen if she stays away from me, from my fucked-up life.
But for just a little while longer, I want to linger in this peaceful moment. I want to keep her in my arms for just a few more moments. As I trace patterns on her back, light enough not to wake her, my thoughts spin.
Why her? I've had women before, women just as smart as Iris. Some of them would have been deemed more beautiful than her by conventional standards.
But Iris, she’s gotten under my skin. And nobody will ever be as gorgeous to me as she is.
Her laugh, her wit, the way she challenges me without fear.
And in bed, she's a firecracker, matching my dominance with her own fire. I get hard again just thinking about it.
She stirs, her eyes opening sleepily. "Can't sleep?"
I shake my head, pulling her closer. "Just thinking."
"About what?" She props herself on an elbow, her breast brushing my arm.
"About you." I hesitate, then add, "I shouldn't be here, Iris. I'm not good for you."
She rolls her eyes, that American straightforwardness shining through. "Bullshit. You keep saying that, but here you are."
I chuckle despite myself. "You're a temptress, you know that?"
"Only for you." Her hand slides down my chest, over my abs, tracing teasing circles in my pubes.
My cock twitches at her touch. "Careful, love. You'll start something you can't finish."
"Who says I can't?" She grins, slipping her hand lower, wrapping around me. Her strokes quickly bring my cock to full attention.
"Iris..." It's a warning, but weak.
She shifts, straddling my thighs, her cunt hovering over cock. She's still wet from before, a mix of our releases, and the sight makes me groan. "Let me ride you this time," she whispers.
