Chapter 19
“Stay right where you are,” Blaise ordered her again, and Iris wanted very much to obey.
Her heart hammered wildly as Blaise pulled out the sketch pad and charcoal, got up, and stepped away from her.
His tall frame moved with purposeful strides towards the study door.
He turned the key in the lock with a soft, decisive click, sealing them inside.
The sound sent a shiver racing down her spine.
When he returned, his dark eyes burned with intent.
“Remove your clothes,” he commanded. “All of them.”
Iris swallowed hard, and her mouth suddenly felt dry. Her fingers trembled as she reached for the fastenings of her gown and slowly untied ribbons and loosened laces until the fabrics slipped from her shoulders and hips and pooled at her feet.
“Take your time, Little Blossom.” Iris heard the soft tenderness beneath his husky tone, and that almost undid her.
She looked into his darkened eyes, and she let out a shuddering breath. She knew her every movement was being studied by him.
With shaky fingers, Iris undid her undergarments. She lifted her chemise over her head and dropped it on the ground. Blaise’s breath hitched as his gaze followed the contours of her body. Iris wanted to stop out of shame and embarrassment, but her desire to please him was greater.
She sauntered closer to the chair, leaving behind her clothes and dignity.
Her eyes never left his as she raised her foot and placed it on the arm while she bent forward slowly.
She enjoyed watching every second of the scarred duke’s reaction.
Her delicate fingers wrapped around her stocking, and she rolled it down her long leg slowly.
Blaise growled, and Iris gasped at the animalistic sound.
“Do you have any idea what you do to me, Iris?”
“No…show me,” she replied daringly and saw the glint in his eyes.
“Not today.”
Iris felt the disappointment surge over her.
“I did not tell you to stop.” Blaise leaned forward on the other side of the desk. Iris hated the division between them and wanted to be near him.
She lowered her naked foot to the ground and raised her other, repeating the action even more slowly, until finally she stood completely naked before him in the soft firelight.
“My God, Iris, you are stunning.” His eyes darkened as he drank in the sight of her.
But shame flooded her instantly.
“I... I am not beautiful.” The words left her lips before she could stop them.
Iris felt exposed and vulnerable. Every curve and imperfection was proudly on display.
She looked down at the soft roundness of her stomach, the full swell of her hips, and the tuft of honey-colored hair between her thighs, and her hands instinctively went up.
One arm crossed over her breasts, and the other shielded the apex of her thighs.
Blaise dropped the sketch pad and pencil on a nearby chair and approached her slowly, like a predator stalking prey.
“Look at me, Iris.”
She looked at him and felt her skin burn under his gaze.
“You do not have to cover yourself with me,” he said huskily and grabbed her wrists. “Ever.”
Iris felt a wave of fire wash over her.
Instead of forcing her hands away, Blaise gently took her wrists and guided her palms over her own body; her skin was soft and warm under her touch. Blaise could hardly control his own breathing when they reached the tuft of hair between her legs. He leaned closer to her.
“Touch yourself for me again, Little Blossom. Like you did before. Let me watch you please yourself,” he whispered in her ear.
Iris’s breath hitched. “Blaise… I want your—”
“Do it,” he said softly. “Show me how you ache for me.”
Mortified yet impossibly aroused, Iris obeyed. Her fingers slid through the slick heat already gathering there while her other hand held onto him as he watched her intently. Iris let out a soft whimper as the first wave of pleasure rocked through her body.
“That’s it,” Blaise rasped so close to her lips, but he did not kiss her. “You are so beautiful, Iris.”
“Blaise,” she whispered his name, cheeks burning as her fingers moved faster. “I wish it were your hand.”
He settled a large hand on her hip, steadying her, while the other guided her fingers in slow, circular motions on her sensitive spot. She moaned and almost lost her balance as her body began to writhe against him.
“And I wish we were in my special room right now,” Blaise growled in her ear. His voice was thick with desire. “I have so much planned for you in there.”
Iris moaned, her hips rocking against their hands as Blaise applied pressure. The image he painted of them in that room was sinful and intoxicating.
“Please, tell me what you are going to do to me,” she begged.
Blaise chuckled. “No, Little Blossom, that is not how it works. I would rather show you.”
Iris’s control seemed to be fraying as Blaise pulled her against him suddenly and captured her mouth in a fierce, devouring kiss. His tongue swept inside, claiming her as his. Iris moaned, and he swallowed the sound.
He tastes divine.
His hands roamed greedily over her bare skin, and Iris melted into him, fingers tangling in his dark curls as she kissed him back with equal hunger.
Blaise lifted her effortlessly, setting her on the edge of the desk until papers scattered to the floor, all but forgotten.
His mouth trailed down her neck, sucking and biting gently at the sensitive skin while one hand kneaded her breast, rolling her delicate nipple between his fingers.
“Blaise,” she gasped, arching into his touch. “I thought you were going to draw me?”
His gaze ran over her body. “Look at yourself, Iris. I cannot draw you. I must taste you first.”
“Taste me?” Iris was unsure what to expect and feared she would not perform well.
Blaise stepped away from her, causing her to whimper. “Where are you going?”
“To paradise, I believe.” He suddenly dropped to his knees before her, parting her thighs wide until she gasped again.
“Blaise, what are you doing?” She gasped; her shame was unbearable, but Blaise was enraptured with what he saw.
“Let me taste you, Little Blossom.”
Before she could protest, his mouth was on her core, and Iris cried out as his tongue delved between her folds, licking and sucking with devastating skill.
He groaned against her, and the vibration sent sparks of pleasure shooting through her entire body.
Blaise gripped her hips, holding her steady as he feasted on her.
“You taste so sweet,” he murmured against her slick flesh. “You are so perfect…”
The combination of his praise and his tongue circling her swollen pearl was pushing her over the edge. She had never experienced such intense pleasure before. It was a million times better than their dinner escapade.
“Blaise, what are you doing to me?” Her mind spiraled with the intensity as she watched him.
“Just enjoy it, Blossom, and let go.” She felt his lips curve against her skin before he dived in again.
Iris felt as though she was on the brink of madness.
Blaise’s hands tightened around her thighs, spreading her wider still and taunting her with his tongue.
She wanted to beg him for more, but she already felt that familiar tightening in the pit of her stomach.
She lay back, unable to keep herself up any longer.
Iris closed her eyes and did what he told her to; she enjoyed every sensation that coursed through her.
She moaned his name, and her body began to move in synch with him.
Blaise shifted between her legs but did not stop pleasuring her. Iris felt her pulse quicken, and the tightening in her belly became almost unbearable.
“Blaise!” she gasped his name, and the world around her collapsed. “Do not stop!”
This time, he obeyed her as she shattered with a broken cry, her thighs wrapped around his shoulders while waves of intense pleasure crashed through her.
Iris grabbed his hair as she rocked against him, and Blaise drank her up like a thirsty man.
She cried out when she felt a sharp release and shuddered on the cold desk as her pleasure escalated and dropped slowly.
“That is my girl.” Blaise rose slowly, placing her feet gently on the desk and spreading her again.
Iris saw his bulging manhood in his hand. She felt oddly jealous and wanted to pleasure him too.
“Stay still,” he commanded her roughly.
Blaise stroked himself as he leaned over her shivering body and kissed her again. Iris tasted herself on his tongue.
I have to return the pleasure.
Her hand joined his, and Blaise took a sharp breath. Iris’s delicate hand wrapped around his thick length, and she stroked him in time with his movements.
“Am I doing this right?” she asked innocently.
“Iris,” he groaned her name against her mouth. “Your hand feels too good.”
She pumped him faster, driven by the desperate sounds he made.
He was so close to ruining her that she could simply guide him to her entrance.
But Iris was not ready. Blaise kissed her neck and nipped at her ears until she felt her own desire build up again.
His body was warm and heavy over hers, but she did not mind. It felt right.
They felt right.
Moments later, Blaise stiffened, spilling hot and thick over her fingers and her stomach with a deep, guttural groan. His own release made her moan, too.
They stayed locked together for several long moments, foreheads pressed together and breathing ragged.
Blaise kissed her softly once more before stepping back to straighten his clothes, but Iris remained seated on the desk, flushed, marked, and thoroughly unraveled.
The reality of what they had just done slowly settled over her, but the shame she expected never fully arrived.
Instead, she felt alive, desired, wanted, and powerfully feminine.
Blaise looked at her with dark, satisfied eyes.
“We have a week, Little Blossom,” he reminded her. “And I am counting every single day.”
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