“Iris…”
He doesn’t make it to three because the moment my name leaves his lips, I am reciting the words.
“One means harder. Two means slow. Three means pain.”
I hold up my fingers as I go, demonstrating the corresponding hand sign, and Elliot nods in approval.
“Good. And your safe word?”
I groan.
“Oh, come on.”
“Nope.” He shakes his head. “Not quite. Close though, would you like to try again?”
My fingers curl into tight fists.
“Cross, I know our safe word.”
It’s very hard to forget.
“I believe you, baby. But how am I supposed toknowyou know it, unless I hear it from those pretty lips?”
He runs a thumb over my lower lip, smearing my gloss across his finger, and I contemplate biting him. I refrain, but only because he’d probably enjoy it.
With a heavy sigh, I mutter, “cheese fries.”
“I’m sorry,” Elliot says, leaning closer. “I can’t hear you.”
“Cheese fries!” I blurt.
He smiles, nodding in approval.
“Smart girl,” he teases. “I expect you to use your cues, Iris.”
He’s still holding me by the waist, and his finger strokes lazily beneath the hem of my top.
“I told you, I’m?—”
“I know.” He groans, grip tightening. “I know you’re fine. And I know you could kill me. And I know you’re the most dangerous creature in this house aside from me. I know that. And I won’t forget any of that if you decide you need your cues. okay?”
He brushes my hair over my shoulder and dips his head to kiss my neck, and a slight shiver runs down my spine.
“Okay,” I mutter, distracted by the warmth of his touch.
Elliot tips my chin up, forcing me to look at him.
“Thank you. Now, open your mouth.”
I do as he says, and he pushes a single digit past my lips, encouraging me to suck at the smooth pads of his fingers as he hikes up my skirt in preparation for what comes next.
I lose myself in the sensation.
The pressure of his palm on my hip. The flavor of his desire on my tongue. Even the whisper of his breath across my neck.
“Spread your legs, baby.”
I lied.
