CHAPTER 47
ILAY
I lock the door behind us, the click of the bolt sliding into place echoing through the quiet room.
I turn to face her, crossing my arms over my chest. “Strip.” She reaches for the hem of her sweater, pulling it over her head, while my eyes rake every movement she makes.
She unbuttons her pants, sliding them down her legs.
She stands there in her bra and panties, looking small.
I tower over her, and I fucking love it.
“Remove the rest.” She unhooks her bra and lets it drop.
Her panties follow, pushed down her thighs, Then its kicked aside.
My mouth goes dry. "You're fucking perfect, Iris.
" Heat floods her cheeks, and she crosses to me, her hands trembling as she reaches for the buttons of my shirt.
She gets it open and pushes it off my shoulders, then moves to my belt, tugging it free and unzipping my pants before pulling them down along with my boxers.
My cock springs free, nearly catching her in the face, and she jerks back with a startled breath.
"Touch me," I say, my voice rough and low.
"I'm your husband." She lifts one finger pressing so lightly I almost can't feel it, her hand trembling as it trails down my sternum.
. "Please stop shaking." I soften my tone, watching her.
"If you don't want to do this, I'll take a cold fucking shower right now.
" She steels herself, cups my face with both hands, then lets one drop, sliding lower and lower until her fingers wrap around my cock.
I groan, my head falling back as she strokes me once, twice, learning the weight and heat of me in her palm.
"Bed," I growl. "Now." She climbs onto the mattress and I follow, settling against the pillows before patting my face with one hand. “Sit on my face.” She hesitates. “I’ve been running. I’m sweaty. I don’t smell good.”
"I don't care." My eyes darken. "Suffocate me, Iris.
" She crawls up my body, positioning herself over my face, then I grip her thighs and yank her down onto my mouth.
The first taste of her nearly breaks me.
Sweet, warm, something heady underneath that makes my cock throb against nothing.
I want to devour her whole, but I force myself to go slow.
She's given me everything already. Her body.
Her trust. I'm not about to wreck it by being a selfish bastard.
I drag my tongue through her wetness, find her clit, circle it with slow pressure until she gasps above me, fingers clutching the headboard.
Her thighs shake against my face. I push my tongue inside her, feel her clench around it.
She rolls her hips, grinds down, and I groan into her pussy.
The sound makes her jerk. Then I slide lower, my tongue trailing down to her ass. She freezes. “Ilay—”
I don’t stop. I circle the tight ring, testing it, before pressing my tongue inside just enough to make her feel it.
She bucks, trying to escape, and I lock an arm around her hips, holding her in place.
“Relax,” I mutter against her skin. “Let me make you feel good.” She whimpers, then slowly eases back down.
I work her with my mouth, alternating between her clit and her ass, until her breathing goes ragged.
Her thighs clamp around my head. She comes with a broken cry, her whole body shaking, wetness flooding my mouth. I don’t stop. I keep going, wringing every last pulse out of her until she collapses forward against the headboard, gasping for air.
I lift her off my face, easing her down onto the mattress beside me.
She goes boneless against the sheets, still trembling, her chest rising and falling with ragged breaths.
I drag the back of my hand across my mouth, then lean over her until my arms cage her in.
"You taste like heaven," I murmur, voice hoarse.
"Best thing I've ever had in my mouth." She stares up at me, eyes wide and unfocused, lips parting without a single word escaping. I dip my head to kiss her, letting her taste herself on my tongue, and she moans into my mouth while her hands scramble up to grip my shoulders. I pull back, taking in her face. Flushed. Dazed. Beautiful. “I need to be inside you,” I tell her. “But we’re going slow. You tell me if it hurts. You tell me if you want to stop. Understood?” She nods, swallowing hard. “Understood.” I reach down, wrapping my hand around my cock, then position myself at her entrance. Fuck She’s soaked, dripping onto the sheets, but I still hesitate. “Breathe baby,” I say.
She takes a shaky breath, nodding at me to continue, and I push in, just the tip, watching her face contort as her brows draw together.
"Hurt?" I ask, stilling inside her. "Pressure," she whispers back.
"Keep going." I push in another inch, feeling her body stretching around me, and she gasps with her hands flying to my biceps, nails sinking into muscle.
Fuck, she's tight. So tight I can barely move without feeling like every nerve in my body is catching fire.
I hold myself still, letting her adjust, trailing kisses across her forehead, her cheek, the edge of her jaw.
"You're perfect," I breathe against her skin. "Taking me so well. So fucking brave."
“More,” she breathes. I push in deeper. Halfway now.
She whimpers, and I freeze. “Don’t stop,” she says quickly.
“Please don’t stop.” I sink in the rest of the way, burying myself to the hilt.
She cries out, arching her back off the bed.
I stay motionless, every muscle in my body locked tight.
My cock pulses inside her, begging me to move, but I won’t. Not until she’s ready.
“Talk to me,” I grit out. “How do you feel?”
“Full,” she pants. “So full. It’s… it’s a lot.”
“I know, baby. I know.” I brush damp hair off her forehead.
“You’re incredible. Look at you, taking all of me.
Doing so fucking good.” She shifts her hips experimentally.
I hiss through my teeth. “Move,” she says.
“I want you to move.” I pull out slowly, almost all the way, then push back in.
She moans, throwing her head back against the pillow.
I set a slow rhythm. In and out. Deep and steady.
Her hands roam my back, my chest, my arms, like she doesn’t know what to do with them.
“Ilay,” she gasps. “Oh god, Ilay.” Hearing my name on her lips like that does something to me.
Something primal. I pick up the pace, thrusting harder, and she meets me halfway, lifting her hips to take me deeper.
“That’s it,” I praise. “Just like that. You feel what you do to me? How hard you make me?” She nods frantically, eyes squeezed shut.
“Look at me,” I command. Her eyes flutter open, locking with mine.
“Good girl,” I say. “Such a good fucking girl.”
She clenches around me at the words, and I nearly lose it right there.
I pull out, rolling onto my back and bringing her with me.
"Ride me," I say. "I want to watch you." She hesitates for a moment, then straddles my hips, positioning herself over my cock before sinking down slowly.
Her mouth falls open as she takes me in.
"Oh fuck," she whispers. "That's it, Iris.
Take what you need." I grip her hips, guiding her movements as she finds her rhythm.
"You look so beautiful like this. Perfect. Absolutely fucking perfect."
She starts moving, rolling her hips experimentally as she searches for a rhythm.
Clumsy at first, uncertain and hesitant, but then she finds it and picks up speed, growing bolder with every passing second.
"Yes," I groan, my hands sliding up her thighs.
"Just like that. You're doing amazing, baby.
So good for me." Her palms flatten against my chest, nails dragging across my skin as she bounces on my cock, her breasts swaying beautifully with each movement.
I reach up and cup them, thumbing her nipples, rolling them between my fingers until she throws her head back, a broken moan escaping her. "Oh god."
"God's not fucking you," I tell her, a dark laugh escaping my throat.
"It's me, Iris. Only me." She looks down at me, and something shifts behind her eyes, sharpening into focus.
She slows her movements deliberately, rising up until only the tip of my cock remains inside her before pausing, holding me there on the edge of madness.
I groan and try to thrust up, but she lifts higher, keeping me hovering right at her entrance with a control I didn't know she had.
"Iris," I warn her. "I want something," she tells me, her voice surprisingly steady despite the flush burning across her cheeks.
"Anything," I grit out, desperate. "Just move.
" She sinks down halfway before stopping again, holding herself there while my fingers dig into the soft flesh of her hips.
"My family," she says, watching my face.
"You keep your threats and your violence away from them.
They live their lives without looking over their shoulders.
" I tense beneath her, every muscle going rigid.
"Iris—" She clenches around me, squeezing tight, and my words dissolve into a strangled groan.
"Say yes," she demands, rising up until only the tip of me stays inside her.
"That's not—" She slams down hard, burying me to the hilt, and I curse, head thrown back against the pillows.
She grinds her hips in slow deliberate circles, then lifts again, leaving me aching. "Say. Yes."
"Fuck," I pant, struggling to think. "Iris, you don't understand—" She stops moving entirely, sitting perfectly still with me barely inside her, watching me with those sharp eyes like she can see right through me.
"I understand perfectly," she says. "My family lives.
Your staff lives. No more killing people, Ilay.
" My jaw clenches tight because every instinct I have is fighting to say no, to take back control, to remind her who she's dealing with, but she grinds down just slightly and whatever I was about to say disappears.
"You're asking too much," I manage, voice wrecked. She leans forward, pressing her breasts against my face while moving agonizingly slow, and I groan into her skin, my mouth finding her nipple without thinking. “Am I?” she whispers against my ear. Then she pulls back, rising to the tip again. “Because it seems like you need me more than I need you right now.” She’s right. Fuck, she’s right. “And therapy,” she continues, sinking down inch by torturous inch. “You’ll go back to therapy and Anger management too.”
“Iris—” She clenches again, and I nearly come right there.
“Say yes, Ilay.” I try to buck up into her, but she rises with me, keeping the same shallow depth.
She’s in complete control and she knows it.
“When I marry you,” she says, grinding down slow, “I continue being a lawyer. My career doesn’t end. ”
“Yes,” I gasp. “Fine. Yes.”
“Say all of it,” she demands, finally taking me deeper. “Say you’ll leave my family alone.”
“Fuck.” My hands grip her hips hard enough to bruise. “I’ll leave them alone.”
“The staff?”
“Yes.”
“No more killing?”
I grit my teeth. She stops moving again. “Iris—”
“Say it.”
“No more killing,” I force out. “Therapy?”
“Yes.”
“Anger management?”
“Yes. Fuck baby, yes. Anything.”
She smiles satisfied, then starts riding me properly.
Hard and fast. “Good boy,” she purrs. The words snap something in me.
I sit up, wrap my arms around her waist, and thrust up to meet her movements.
“You think you’re in control?” I growl against her neck.
“I know I am,” she gasps back. She’s right again. She has me by my fucking balls.
She leans back, bracing her hand on my thighs, changing the angle. The new position lets me hit deeper, and she cries out. “Promise me you’ll love me forever,” she demands, still moving. “I promise,” I groan. “Forever, Iris. There’s no one else. There never will be.”
“Promise you’ll be better.”
“I promise.” She clenches around me, her movements becoming erratic. She’s close. “Say you’re mine,” I demand back, needing something, anything. “I’m yours,” she gasps. “I’m yours.”
“And I’m yours,” I tell her. “COMPLETELY.” thrust “FUCKING.” Thrust “YOURS.” She comes with my name on her lips, her whole body shaking. I follow seconds later, spilling inside her, groaning into her shoulder.
We collapse together, both breathing hard. She stays on top of me, her head resting on my chest. “You meant it?” she asks quietly. “All of it?”
“Every word,” I say, stroking her hair. “You win, Iris. You always win.” She lifts her head to study my face. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” I murmur. “More than anything.”