It made me feel good. It made me feel contented, happy even. These were new things for me.
Feeling good had never been a high priority for me, screwed up as that was.
Perhaps I needed to change some of my priorities. Perhaps it was time to start enjoying my life, instead of just working through it.
And slowly, sweetly, Iris was teaching me something about that.
I decided then and there that I wanted to let her.
Her eyes opened, and she looked at me. My mood changed between one blink and the next.
I wanted her again. Needed her. It was madness.
It felt as though my body had been switched into some kind of perverted survival mode, where it wanted to f**k itself unconscious.
It was a bit like blacking out, when I got like this, as though something else took overtook me.
Her gaze stayed glued to mine as I slid the straps of her threadbare tank off her shoulders.
Her clear as water eyes were changeable in the most fascinating way. They were like the sea, parts green and blue, shifting darker and lighter with the changing hours of the sun. Now, with the sun gone and the bright bathroom light flooding them, they were at their most mysterious, as though the day showed her truer than the night.
I slipped the thin white material down to her ni**les, rubbing it back and forth over each hard peak, teasing her into a gasp. She bit her lip, and I moved closer, pushing my erection into her shoulder as I fondled her roughly.
Her hands covered mine as she squirmed in the chair.
She was just so gloriously responsive to my touch. A few touches and she was ready, trembling for me. I couldn’t seem to get over just how much I craved that addictive response.
I moved around her, straddling her in the chair. I jerked my c**k out, gripping her hair as I pushed the tip against her lips. They opened for me, her tongue sliding along my length as I worked my way to the back of her throat. I wanted her pu**y, not her mouth, when I came, but I never got over the sight of her deep throating me.
Years without receiving oral would give anyone some sort of fixation, I thought.
I dragged myself out of her mouth just shy of coming, pulling her up and moving behind her, facing the mirror. It took her like that, watching my hands fondling her as I took her slowly, standing up and braced against the bathroom sink.
Her knees got too weak to hold her up, and I took her to bed, pushing her face down and pulling her h*ps up as my pace quickened and I rutted in her, earnestly now.
She started gripping me harder with her release, and it sent me over. I didn’t know what I wanted; I wanted everything, because I pulled out still twitching to come on her ass cheeks, moving up to thrust my twitching c**k into that little groove at the bottom of her spine.
I made a huge mess, and neither of us cared. I fell asleep still on her back, but I was pretty sure she passed out first.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
We developed a pattern, if you could call it that, over the next few weeks. Sometimes she’d stay over and sometimes not. But we spent a lot of time together. Enough time that I barely got any work done.
I tried to work, several times. I went into my office, put on my thick black editing glasses, and even opened up the writing program on my computer. If she wasn’t around, I’d just sit there, in a daze, my mind full of her, where she was right then, the things we’d done, the things I wanted to do when I saw her again, where she lived, why she lied, why I let her and never said a word.
If she were around, she’d inevitably end up knocking on my office door. I’d tell her to come in. (Because who wouldn’t?) She’d pop her gorgeous blonde head in and smile. She’d tell me how handsome I looked in my glasses, or ask me if I wanted her to make lunch.
Once she just came and straddled me where I sat, smiling into my face and told me how my eyes made her melt.
That got to me. I’d never heard anything like it in my life. “My eyes?” I asked her, blinking slowly, pulling my glasses off to set them on my desk.
She nodded, using her fingertips to rub against the scruff on my jaw in a way that had it going slack. “Yes. Sometimes they’re so brown, and sometimes I think they’re more hazel, but they’re always, always, so warm. They’re by far your most dangerous weapon, Dair. When I first met you, I’d have sworn it was your body, but no, I changed my mind. It’s your eyes.”
I just kept staring at her. I had no words. I knew I should be saying something sweet back to her, and I felt it, and wanted to say the right thing, but I just had no inkling what it was.
Something was happening inside of me, something directly related to the way this girl was making me feel, something in the way she was helping me to change, but I had no appropriate words for it yet.
Not even one.
I had lots of the wrong ones, though, so I said those. “You’re silly,” I told her, and immediately wanted to take it back.
Luckily, she didn’t take offense, in fact, laughed instead.
“Yes, I am. And that I definitely blame on your body.”
She was so much better than I was at finding appropriate words. Those ones made my day. I tried hard to return the favor and make hers.
With my tongue.
The sex with Iris was amazing. Out of this world. It never slowed down, not for one day of those short weeks.
But nearly every night she went out by herself.
And often, more and more, actually, I followed her. It was always to a different place, but for the exact same thing. I was one hundred percent sure she had a gambling problem, but at the moment it seemed to be making her money.