22. Iris
22
IRIS
T he steady drip of the tap hit the bath water with a “plunk.” I’d lain in the hotel bath for at least twenty minutes and resembled a prune by now. But that hadn’t stopped my self-imposed sin-binning—my sentence to self-isolate and stop lusting after my fake fiancé billionaire boss.
After Luc’s disappearance last night, I’d pulled myself together, returned to the house and paced my room, processing what the hell happened. And now, after the world’s most unsatisfactory and silent flight to Paris, the loud thrum of his voice through the wall made my gut a churning mess.
The two of us hadn’t spoken. Whatever the business with his sister, it’d taken up most of his day. He hadn’t joined me at breakfast. He’d left the butler to carry my bag to the car and spent most of the journey to the airport with his phone glued to his ear. And then, when we’d arrived at the hotel, he’d had to dial straight into a meeting. Way to make a girl feel special.
However, he had smiled at me a few times and grimaced a lot while listening to his phone calls. More importantly, twice he’d closed his hand around mine in the car, and once in his luxurious jet. Each time he’d stroked my knuckles for what felt like forever. And I’d caught him looking at me more than was healthy for a pretend partner. But that didn’t change the reality of our situation or the gloomy cloud hanging over my head.
Memories and montages of last night by the fire and then in the garden played endlessly in my head all morning, muddling my thoughts.
I’d raced down to the staff accommodation first thing, hoping to speak to Chloe. To tell her what Luc and I had done and try to make some sense out of the situation. But she’d already left to process grapes before the day became too hot.
And so, here I was, in the fanciest hotel room I’d ever seen, alone in the bathtub, dreading the evening in front of me. All morning, the feeling had grown—the feeling of being out of my body, out of control, out of my mind.
I sucked in a breath and plunged under the water, staying down until I thought my lungs would explode. Weird sounds reached my ears. Loud, echoed knocks and what resembled words reverberated around the tub. I wondered how whales coped without earplugs. But it didn’t matter. Even the noise and the water couldn’t drive away the gaping hole burning in my chest.
I wanted Luc to kiss me again. To hold me in his arms and fill me with hope. The two of us would never work, though. I’d never be good enough for someone like him, or his family. And no matter how much I wanted to, I could never ask him to give anything up for me.
A second later, a loud thump reached my ears. Choking for air, I came back to the surface, pulling my knees to my chest.
“Iris, are you okay?”
Luc’s voice rang out against my waterlogged eardrums. At least, I thought it was Luc. I didn’t know any other men who had access to this bathroom, but I couldn’t see a thing through the thick veil of wet hair covering my face. I pulled the strands away, parting them in the middle. “Luc?”
A shadow crossed my blurry vision, and a warm hand fell on my shoulder. I looked up, and my eyes cleared to see his face, brows drawn and blue eyes drilling into mine.
“Hi,” I said, bringing a dollop of bubbles closer to my body for the sake of modesty. He’d got to know a lot about me last night, but as Mum always said, it’s best to leave a little to the imagination. “We really must stop meeting near water.”
He huffed out a breath, and the corners of his lips peaked. Reluctantly, I followed suit. Even after our non-communicative day, the slightest hint of a smile from Luc could make my heart swell.
“I’m sorry to burst in, but I was worried,” he said, eyes roaming my face.
I looked around the room, searching for a masked assassin, or a ninja, at the very least.
“You didn’t answer the door.”
“That banging was you? I thought maybe a team of stuntmen were staying in the suite next door.”
Luc’s glorious, but sadly rare, grin broke out across his lips. Something in my gut tugged. I never knew it was possible to miss a smile so much.
“Are you finished?” he asked, avoiding looking at my body. “I’d like to talk. About last night.”
My belly lurched again, and I nodded. I wanted to have a talk with him, too. Ask if last night’s garden activities had changed anything. Find out if he had regrets, but more importantly, whether we still had a deal. I’d received another text from Nathan about Stuart, and my arrangement with Luc meant I was closer to paying my ex back.
“Sure, I’ll get out. I’ll meet you in the bedroom.”
Luc walked through to the bedroom, closing the door behind him. I climbed out of the bath and wrapped myself in the marshmallow-like hotel robe. With a frown, I checked my reflection in the mirror above the sink. My cheeks were puffy and flushed and my hair hung in damp tendrils around my face. My whole look was hardly sex-goddess worthy, but it would have to do.
Luc’s eyes met mine as soon as I entered the bedroom. He sat on the bed, a glass of something dark in his hand. He looked as gorgeous and unattainable, as usual. A flurry of butterflies shifted in my tummy like they were on standby to take off at a moment’s notice.
He reached out his hand, guiding me to the bed, and I took it. Lord knew why, because the next moment, his stare heated up, and I knew I was toast.
“The hotel’s lovely,” I said, my voice very high and a little too chirpy. “Do you stay here a lot? The chairs are so comfy.”
He smiled. “Iris. As lovely as the hotel is, the furnishings aren’t what I want to talk about.”
I shrugged, feigning innocence. “The art? The curtains?”
The smile faded on his lips. “Iris, I want to talk about last night. And today. I want to apologise. It’s rare I get involved in the family business, but occasionally, like today, I have to attend meetings. Cast a vote on the board. My sister needed to close a tricky deal. So, my family has rudely preoccupied most of my day. I’m sorry.”
Luc kissed the back of my hand, and his blue eyes bounced between mine. I’d wanted him here, too. Present. I’d wanted him to show me the river and take me to his favourite places. Maybe even to the top of the Eiffel Tower.
I swallowed, gently pulling my fingers from his. “It’s fine. You had important things to do. I’ve been okay, here. I’ve kept myself busy painting my nails, practising my curtsey, planning which jewels to wear…”
“Iris.”
The gravel in his voice hit me straight in the chest, and I looked down at my hands, resisting the urge to pick at my nail polish. “Yes?”
“Please, listen to me. I know we have an arrangement, but I can’t forget what happened last night.” He paused, his chest rising a little faster than before. “And I can’t stop thinking about you.”
My shallow breath filled the silence between us, and Luc reached out, tipping my chin to meet his eyes.
“I can’t stop thinking about the time we’ve had together. You see the real me, I think, and I don’t want to lose the only genuine happiness I’ve felt in so long.” Luc paused, running his thumb over my cheek.
My heart faltered and little fists of doubt tugged at my robe, reminding me how crazy our situation was. Beautiful didn’t even begin to describe last night. But the two of us together wasn’t practical. We came from completely different worlds. Our paths would never cross in reality. And wasn’t our entire relationship, or whatever it was, built on a lie?
But the glow in his eyes and the softness of his fingertips on my cheek drove my sensible brain elsewhere. I turned my head into his palm, bringing my lips to his skin, savouring his warmth. “Last night was incredible, but…”
He shook his head. “No. No buts. I only want to think about you.”
Luc put his glass down and stood. With his eyes on mine, he peeled off his jacket, slipping the fabric over his hard shoulders. Next, he reached for the top button of his shirt, tugging it open. Then the next, and the next. After the third, he stopped and kicked off his shoes, sinking to his knees on the cream carpet.
My breath hovered in my throat, flashbacks from last night crashing into my brain. Would this be a re-match? A statue garden seduction part two? Only this time, Agnes wouldn't be appearing from behind the antique dresser, telling Luc he had an important call .
Luc’s eyes burned into me. He tipped his lips up, as if giving me an invitation to join him in some forbidden paradise. And hell, if he could throw caution to the wind, ignore our absurd circumstances, and forget he might lose his home, who was I to be the voice of reason?
He took a slow breath before bringing his hands to mine. “I want to finish what we started last night. I want to see what we can be together. And I don’t want to wait any longer.”
I pressed my thighs tight together, my breath coming faster as he intertwined our fingers.
“Do you want the same?” His voice was a whisper, his blue eyes darker than I’d ever seen them. Unable to form words, I could only nod.
The second I did, though, he reached for my robe, gently tugging on the knot of the belt, loosening it.
“Unbutton your shirt,” I said, the throaty edge in my voice sounding alien to my ears. Bold and so unlike mine. If Luc wanted to see what we could be together, then I wanted to be part of whatever that looked like. Wanted to be in control of my own ship.
I’d spent years playing by Nathan’s rules in bed. Endured years of him never asking me what I needed. If I was going to have one night in a crazy fairy tale, a night where I could be anything or anyone I wanted, I’d make the most of it.
He hesitated, his eyes glued to mine.
“Luc, unbutton your shirt. I want to see you.”
A slow smile spread across his lips, and letting go of my belt, he brought his fingers to his buttons, slowly popping the four that remained. Each time, he revealed a little more of the hard golden skin I knew lay beneath. When he’d finished, he looked up at me. “What now?”
Letting out an unsteady breath, I leaned forward, pushing the soft cotton away. I ran my eyes over his chest… over its covering of dark hair, and across the indentation of muscles th at ran to his waistband. I steadied the tremble of my fingers. When the Brothers Grimm wrote the fairy tales I’d grown up with, they’d never mentioned the optional extras the handsome prince might come with.
“You’re beautiful,” I said, leaning in to kiss his shoulder. My lips traced a path to his neck and when I reached the spicy warmth behind his ear, I breathed him in. “Take it off,” I whispered.
With a slow blink of his eyes, Luc shrugged out of his shirt, letting it fall to the ground.
“Stand up,” I said, raking my eyes over his face.
Without a word, without hesitation, he did exactly as I asked. He slowly stood, his teeth tugging on his lip. I stood too, not caring if my robe slipped away. My mind was laser focused on him. His body. “Kiss me,” I breathed.
A flare of heat pulsed in his eyes, and he leaned in. He kissed me softly at first, his lips closed. But when I moaned gently against him, they parted and his tongue dipped into my mouth, curling around mine. With the feel of his breath against me, I ran my hands up across his shoulders, then down across his chest. His hot skin dragged under my fingers, and I dug in my nails.
As we kissed, I moved my hands down to his waistband. Finding his belt buckle, I slowly undid it, the chink of the metal punctuating the whir of the air-con. Blood sang in my ears as I pulled the leather away from his trousers. The slide through his belt loops was like dragging a hot knife through butter. Everything in my peripheral vision blurred, and I found his fly, pulling the button away and tugging the zipper down.
Luc’s kiss intensified. His arms snaked around me, and finding the edges of my robe he glided his palms across the skin of my back, pulling me in closer.
As Luc’s nails dug into my back, I gripped his waistband, pulling the front of his trousers away. He let out a deep groan inside my mouth. Emboldened, I moved my hand down to find his length through his boxers. As I took him in my hand, he seemed bigger, harder than last night, and something nudged at my core as I remembered his mouth on me. His tongue inside me. I couldn’t stop at just his mouth this time. If I only had one more night with Luc, then I wanted everything.
I pulled away from our kiss, and his eyes met mine. They were wide and fevered. So bright. I spoke again, savouring my boldness. “Take your clothes off. I want to see you, Luc. All of you.”
At my request, one corner of his mouth tipped up. At a delicious, languid pace, he stepped away before sliding anything he still wore down his legs. Finally, he kicked off his clothes and stood, eyes running over my face.
My breath stopped at my throat. I didn’t dare look down. I knew he’d be perfect, but I wanted to wait. To cherish this moment. Instead of reaching for him, I ran my eyes over his body. Anywhere but where I really wanted to look.
Before, he’d called me beautiful, but he took the prize. From the tiny mole on his left shoulder to the bulge of his thighs, and the look of pure lust that curled his lip. Perfection. I finally turned my eyes to his cock. It was everything I expected, and maybe a little more, and damn if a little smile didn’t play at the corners of my mouth.
“And next?” he gritted out.
Finding his eyes, I brought one hand to his hip, curling it around one high, tight buttock. Then, trailing my fingers to grip his dick, I brought my lips to his ear. “I want this. I want you deep inside me. Now.”
When I gently dug my teeth into the side of his neck, he tipped back his head. “Fuck, Iris.”
I’d never heard him swear in English. But whatever language he chose, the sentiment needed no explanation.
“Yes please,” I whispered into his ear .
Luc pulled away from me, his eyes wide, as if he hadn’t heard me correctly. Then when I smiled at him, his lips crashed into mine and he drew my hips in closer, his hands needy against my buttocks.
“Iris,” he ground out against my lips. “I need to find something. To use, I mean. I hadn’t really planned ahead.”
I swallowed, thanking the gods that my lover was smart, owned a substantial package and considered things that hadn’t even crossed my mind. It’d been months since I’d had sex and there’d been no condoms in Chloe’s usual stash when I’d checked this morning. Okay, so maybe I had considered sex with Luc. I was only human, after all.
“I’m sorry,” I mumbled. “I didn’t bring anything.”
He brought his mouth to the top of my head, his breath teasing through my hair. “I have things covered on that front. Just nothing to hand right now. If you’ll give me a second.”
I nodded, sitting down on the edge of the bed. Luc turned away from me and dug into his clothes on the floor, the muscles of his buttocks and back flexing under his skin. As he stood, a tear of foil hit my ears, and I smiled. It turned out Luc had thought ahead. He knew this would happen. That we’d have sex. And hell, was I glad he had. I didn’t relish the thought of another pause in proceedings. Another “almost” moment. Though we’d only known each other a short while, the two of us were at boiling point.
I gathered my robe around me and swung my legs onto the bed, turning over to take the glass he’d left on the side. I brought it to my lips just in time for the mattress to sink behind me and for Luc to tug on my robe and pull it away from my shoulders.
“I’m not sure you should drink,” he murmured into my neck. “I want you to be completely clear-headed. I want you to remember everything I’m going to do to you.”
No problem. I put down the glass and sucked in a breath as he pressed his hardness into my buttocks, grinding into me from behind. Luc moved me onto my side. Parting the soft cotton of my robe, he brought his hand to rest at the top of my thighs. “Look,” he said, his breath heavy and fast.
I turned my head, looking over my shoulder at him, but he stared straight ahead, the darkness I’d seen before clouding his eyes. I followed his gaze and found the two of us reflected in the ornate mirror that hung on the wall.
My pulse surged. We looked beautiful together. Like a god and a goddess, lounging together on a cloud up on Mount Olympus.
I kept my eyes on the mirror as Luc leaned in to kiss my neck. The soft glow from the late sun painted the muscles of his solid forearm like a tattoo, and when he reached down and found my centre, I abandoned all hope of self-control. Instead, I held his hand, pulling him into me, asking him to give me all he had before. Chasing the sensation I knew only he could create.
Luc moved his fingers across my heat, tracing them against my clit until my breath came in ragged gasps. I watched as his lips curved in the mirror, his eyes boring into me, revelling in every movement portrayed in the glass.
“Touch yourself,” he whispered in my ear, sending a sprinkle of goosebumps across my skin. At the scorch in his words, the burn in his voice, I was powerless to argue. With my heart hammering against my ribs, I brought my hand to my breast, touching my hardened nipple.
As soon as I did, the low pulsing between my legs quickened and I closed my eyes tight. I opened my mouth to ask him to go deeper, give me what I wanted, what I needed, but no words came out.
“Open your eyes, Iris,” he ground out. “Watch.”
My eyes flew open, and the sight of us seared into my brain. My face was desperate, hungry, my hand at my breast. Luc’s eyes glued to the mirror, and his hand moved slowly between my legs. As I watched him all the tension of this morning, all the doubt I’d held, crumbled away and delicious ribbons of delight curled around my body. If our fairy tale didn’t have a “happily ever after,” I was damn well going to take my “happy for now.”
Grasping his wrist, I pulled him in closer, drove his fingers deeper, and exquisite waves of pleasure rolled over me. Engulfed me. Consumed me. Spun me in ever-increasing circles until his strokes tipped me over the edge and I came hard against his hand.
I didn’t stop to rest, though. I didn’t want to lose the sensation. Didn’t want it to lessen. As I hovered dangerously close to coming again, I flipped over and pushed him against the mattress, straddling his hips. “I can’t wait any longer.” My words came fast, my mouth barely able to function.
Luc’s eyes met mine, and hunger burned deep within them. He took my hips in his hands, fingers digging into my flesh, like he needed to touch me. Own me. I didn’t need a second invitation. I leaned in to kiss him, my hardened nipples dragging over his chest as I reached down and took his length in my hand. Slowly, I moved onto him.
At the slide of our bodies meeting, he growled into my mouth, and I held my breath. The feel of him, the pressure of him inside, filling me, was all I could focus on. After the longest beat, though, I pushed up, my hands gripping his chest, bracing myself against his pecs as I moved.
Each time I pulsed into him, he met my body, guiding my hips down onto his, pulling me closer. His breath turned ragged and the feeling of abandon from earlier–the sense of walking a precipice I’d had only moments ago–built back up. Like if I took one wrong step, I’d plunge to my death, but I didn’t care. The two of us together felt so good .
“Harder,” I ground out, raking my fingers across his taut stomach, his muscles clenching beneath my nails.
Luc’s eyes flashed fire, and, taking me at my word, he gripped my buttocks, driving me down to meet his strokes. The slap of our skin meeting mingled with our laboured breath as he relentlessly drove into me. Over and over. Perspiration coated his body, and I marvelled that this man wanted me. Desired me.
Every time our bodies met, he moaned. The sound made my toes curl. Every time I heard his desire for me, pressure built low down in my belly–tingling, pulsing, threads of desire–nudging me towards the abyss. As the feeling grew, my breath came in shorter bursts, my movements more urgent.
I cried out. When Luc heard me, his eyes sprang open, a look of pure need lacing the blue. He threw his head to one side, turning towards the mirror, the corded skin on his neck asking for my mouth. But before I could oblige, he gripped my wrists, pushing my arms behind my back, grinding into me even harder.
“Watch,” he pushed out between gritted teeth, his request far more urgent than last time.
As he asked, I looked in the mirror. Our eyes locked in the reflection, and his face wore a mask of pure hunger. Intense and desperate. He gripped his bottom lip as he drove harder into me, reaching up to touch my breast. The second his fingertips brushed my skin, a pulse of pure electricity ran through me. Like someone had lit a quick burning fuse I had no chance of tamping out. Each thrust lifted me higher, pushing me toward the brink. Closer to destruction at his hands.
I sucked in a fast breath, meeting his lips, and with one last thrust, Luc grasped my hips and threw his head back. I bit into his neck, and he ground out my name as the two of us came together in a tangle of heat and desire.