He turns his head to look at me, and we're suddenly face to face, inches apart. His eyes drop to my mouth.
The air feels too thick to breathe.
"We should—" he starts.
"Yeah," I whisper, though I have no idea what I'm agreeing to.
His hand comes up to cup my face, thumb brushing across my cheekbone. The touch is gentle, reverent, and it makes my eyes flutter closed.
"Look at me," he murmurs.
I do. His eyes are dark, pupils blown wide, and the hunger there makes heat pool low in my belly.
His voice drops, low and rough. "I want you."
I stay there, letting the heat between us build without pulling away.
His lips meet mine, and the world tilts. The kiss is soft at first, questioning, but when I make a small sound and press closer, something in him unleashes.
His hand slides into my hair, tilting my head for better access, and his tongue sweeps into my mouth. I moan and grip his shirt, pulling him closer, needing more.
He shifts, pulling me onto his lap so I'm straddling him, and the new position makes us both groan. I can feel him hard beneath me, and I rock my hips instinctively.
"Fuck," he breathes against my lips. "Iris—"
I kiss him again, harder, and his hands grip my hips, guiding my movements. The friction is delicious, maddening, not nearly enough.
His mouth moves to my neck, teeth scraping, tongue soothing, and I arch into him. My hands find the hem of his shirt and slide underneath, exploring the hard muscle and scarred skin.
He pulls back suddenly, breathing hard. "Upstairs."
It's not a question.
I nod.
He lifts me effortlessly, my legs wrapped around his waist. He carries me up the stairs, his mouth never leaving mine.
At the top, he pauses. "Your room or mine?"
"Yours."
He pushes open the door and sets me on the bed, following me down. His weight presses me into the mattress, and I've never felt anything better.
Chapter 7 – Silas
I've been containing myself, feeling her, wanting her, trying to stay patient. But now, with Iris beneath me, her hands pulling at my shirt, her mouth hot and desperate on mine, control is impossible.
I break the kiss long enough to pull my shirt over my head, then reach for hers. She lifts her arms, and I tug the soft sweater off, revealing smooth skin and a simple white bra.
"Christ, you're beautiful."
My hands slide up her sides, thumbs brushing the underside of her breasts. She arches into the touch, and I lean down to kiss the exposed skin above the bra's edge. Her breath hitches, and the sound goes straight to my cock.
I reach behind her and unclasp the bra with practiced ease, grateful for muscle memory. It falls away, and the sight of her bare breasts makes my mouth water.
I lower my head and take one nipple into my mouth, swirling my tongue around it before sucking gently. She gasps, her hands flying to my hair, holding me against her.
"Silas—"
