Page 32 of Stealing Iris

“Not so fast.” His gazerolls down to my hooker shoes then back up before he slows down. While Tino was right, I’m not the skimpiest dressed person here, the heat of embarrassment is still spreading across my face and chest. He opens a door and leads me outside. A gasp escapes me as my shoes click along the outdoor tile. The scenery is beautiful. Trees stretch out into the distance, the moon shines down on us, and the blanket of stars spreads out as far as the eye can see. I’m too busy looking up and miss his sudden stop. He’s quick to catch me, pulling me into his arms. Bracing myself on his chest, I glance down to a red smudge on what has to be a very expensive dress shirt.

“Oh no.” I look up at him, in wide-eyed concern. “I got lipstick on you.”

“Don’t care,” he mutters, his arms coming around me.

The moment turns serious, and you’d think the rest of the world disappeared. “I missed you,” I admit from a few inches away.

“You told me to stay away.”

“Sure. You find a way around everything else b—”

Apparently the best way to shut me up is by kissing me because his move works beautifully. We’re no more than a step away from each other, but I let my arms circle his neck. Yes, I’m going to be one of those people who goes from zero to horny every time he holds me close.

The warmth of his body mingles with mine. His hands are at the small of my back, covering my skin then sliding lower. One quick shift of his hips, and I realize I’m not the only one affected.

We break apart, just long enough for a breath then kiss again. Just like that I want him.

Dante pulls away. “I missed you so damn much.”

I let out a harsh breath, relieved I misread him. “For a second, I thought you might be put off.”

“You didn’t want to be kissed in public,” he points out. “And we have a lot more people around this time.” True. And though he didn’t say it, I’m thinking he means Conny, too.

“Well, I hoped you’d show me an office.” I glance up at him through my dense lashes. “Where I can ask you for a private word.” The half smile tells me he remembers the phrase he used at the store.

“In that case, let me show you the upstairs.” He puts an arm around my waist and leads me to the end of the patio. Several strategically placed stepping stones lead to the wall beneath the second-floor balcony. The last stone ends at a staircase cleverly hidden by thick ivy covering this side of the house.

After urging me on, he stops me at the first step with two firm hands on my hips. Moving behind me, he presses close, his breath whispering along my neck. The weight of his hands settles on me, his thumbs slipping inside the material, pulling my blouse open to cup my breasts.

“I’ve been thinking about doing this all night,” he murmurs next to my ear, sending shivers down my body. His hard length is jutting against my bottom. If I wasn’t wet before…

“You feel so good.” It’s all I can do to keep from grinding against him and taking his cock where I’m standing. I’m shocked, a little scared, and a lot excited. Never in my life would I have imagined wanting someone so much I’d be willing to be this daring.

His fingers spread around me as if he can’t help himself now that he has the freedom to touch me. My nipples are so hard, his touch sends electricity shooting through me.

“We need to get upstairs,” he warns in a thick voice. “Before I end up pounding you into the handrail.”

A whimper escapes me and my body begs for him to do just that, and damn the consequences.

We stumble up the rest of the stairs, my blouse hanging open. The patio light catches my attention, and I cover myself with my arm. Dante comes around me and punches numbers into a keypad to open the door. Two steps inside, and we’re on each other again. He turns me around then pushes me over something solid as he comes in behind me to drag my shorts off.

I’m on his desk.No. My insides rebel. I can’t do this. “No. Not the desk.”

“Okay.” He pulls back, his breath showing his effort to keep it together. “Are you—”

I stand, kissing him as I press against him until his back hits the wall. All I want is the mindlessness of being with him, of giving in to my body’s needs. His hands are on my breasts again, caressing every curve as I kiss his jaw, his neck, and any part of him I can reach. Then he focuses on my nipples. Dear God. How had I gone my entire life without knowing this surge of need and pleasure?

I push the coat off his shoulders, but he takes over, brushing my breast with the fabric, causing a whole other shower of sensation. He tosses it away, maneuvering us so my back is now against the wall. I’m working the buttons on his shirt; he’s dragging down my shorts, leaving me in skimpy underwear and the heels. He’s much quicker than my unsteady fingers so before I can touch his chest, he takes possession of my breasts. His fingers cover every inch of my skin, pressing the outer edge to bring them together so he can give my cleavage a long, hot lick before taking a nipple. The firm tug has my body curling around him.

Gripping my leg behind the knee, he opens me wide, running his fingertips over my hypersensitive folds. My hips buck, and he works two fingers into my wet channel. My head lolls back. I’m biting my lip while he’s taking his time with me. He’s at my temple. “I want to take off the edge.”

I clutch his shoulder, trying to keep up with him.

“Give you an orgasm before you ride my cock.”

His fingers run along my inner lips, and I know I won’t last long. But this isn’t what I want. “If you’re going to give me something”—I shift my hips—“Give me your cock.” The rumble, deep in his throat tells me he likes my uninhibited demand. He lowers his chin, his hold tightening on me as if he’s barely able to contain himself. I quiver as a surge of excitement shoots through me. Watching his reactions fills me with a sense of power I’ve never felt before. I like it.

His mouth is on mine, only this time I have a goal, so I can’t let him distract me. Even when I drag free of his kiss, he’s unrelenting in his pursuit, his lips at my neck. I focus on pulling open his belt, reaching down to palm his length through the expensive fabric of his pants before I go for the zipper. His heavy cock fills my palm, and I grasp him gently, relishing the fact my fingertips don’t meet. I remember what it’s like to take that ride with him, and I want it again—now.

---