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IRIS
I wake to the sound of water running in the bathroom, the morning light filtering through the curtains while I lie still in bed, listening to Ilay move around in the ensuite.
The water shuts off. I keep my eyes closed, pretending to still be asleep, but I hear the bathroom door open, and his footsteps crossing the room toward the bed, feeling the mattress dip as he climbs on.
"I know you're awake, angel." Amusement threads through his words.
I open my eyes. He's completely naked, with water dripping from his hair down his chest, he's right there, close enough that I could reach out and touch him if I wanted to. I look away immediately, heat flooding my face. He laughs, then leans down until his face is level with mine, forcing me to meet his eyes. "Why are you looking away? Don't you like what you see?"
"I've seen better," I mutter, keeping my gaze fixed somewhere past his shoulder, trying to sound dismissive even though my pulse is racing. His smile widens. "Oh? And where exactly have you seen better?" I don't answer. "Where, Iris?" He leans closer, his hand coming up to cup my face, turning it toward him gently but firmly.
"I didn't mean—" I start, but he's already kissing me, slow and deep, swallowing whatever excuse I was about to make.
His hands push at my robe, parting it, exposing my breasts to the cool morning air, and I gasp against his mouth. He pullsback just enough to look down at what he's revealed, his eyes darkening further. "Beautiful."
"Ilay," I whisper, my hands coming up to his chest, not quite pushing him away but not pulling him closer either, caught between wanting this and hating that I want it. "Hmm?" He kisses my neck, slowly, his hands moving over my skin possessively. "Don't." But the word comes out weak and unconvincing. He pulls back slightly to look at me, his hand sliding down my stomach. "Don't what?"
I bite my lip, trying to find the words, trying to remember why I should push him away when all I want is for him to keep touching me. He smiles, understanding what I can't say, then leans down to kiss me again. "I have to go soon," he murmurs against my lips.
"Then go," I whisper, but my hands are in his hair, holding him to me, contradicting my words.
He laughs quietly. "You don't want me to."
"Yes, I do, I wouldn't care if you were gone for months." I reply.
"You're such a pretty Liar." He kisses me again, deep, his body pressing mine into the mattress. I moan into his mouth before I can stop myself, my body arching up into his, betraying everything I'm trying to pretend I don't feel. He pulls back slightly breathing rough. "If I don't leave soon, I won't leave at all."
"So don't leave," I say before I can stop myself, immediately regretting it when I see the satisfaction flash across his face.
"You want me to stay?" He brushes his thumb across my lower lip.
I want to take it back, but I can't lie to him, not when he's looking at me like this, not when my body is still pressed against his. "I hate you," I whisper instead.
"I know, but my love don't worry, I got enough love for both of us." He kisses me softly.
He pushes my panties aside, then grabs my legs, pushing them up and back until my knees are by my ears, completely exposed and vulnerable to him. He positions himself between my legs, the tip pressing against me, but he doesn't push in.
"Can I put it in?" he asks, his voice is rough, and strained. "Just the tip, angel, please, just let me feel you, I need to feel you."
"No."
"Please." He rocks forward slightly, giving me just the barest pressure. "I'm begging you, just the tip, I promise I won't go further without your permission, please angel."
I bite my lip, trying to stay strong. "Please," he begs again, his voice breaking slightly. "Just the tip, that's all I'm asking, I'll stop there, I swear, just let me have that much, please."
"Ilay—"
"I'm begging you." He presses his forehead against mine, his breathing ragged. "Please, angel, please, just the tip, I need it, I need you."
Something about hearing him beg, hearing the desperation in his voice, breaks my resolve. "Fine," I breathe. "Just the tip." I reach down between us, wrapping my hand around him, and guide just the tip inside me. He groans like I've given him everything, his whole body shaking.
"Fuck," he breathes. "Fuck, you feel so good, so perfect." He starts moving, giving shallow thrusts at first, but I keep my handthere, controlling exactly how much he gets, only allowing the tip to push in and out. "More," he gasps after a moment, trying to push deeper, but my hand stops him. "Please, angel, just a little more, please."
"You said just the tip."
"I know, I know, but please." His voice is desperate, his hips still trying to move against my restraining hand. "Just a little more, just another inch, please, I'm begging you."
