Chapter 31 #2
“It’s a little sore, but it’s a good kind of sore. A healing kind.” She smiled up at me, her face illuminated by the porch light. “Thank you for taking me tonight.”
“You’re part of the circus now. Might as well get used to the clowns.”
She laughed, which brought an answering smile to my face. We walked up the new, sturdy porch steps to the front door. A beautiful, solid teak door had replaced the monstrous, screeching beast that had previously guarded the house.
She unlocked it, and together we stepped inside the grand foyer. The air inside was cool and smelled of fresh paint and her unique mix of sugar and sunshine. She turned to me, a soft, happy smile on her face.
A sudden, undeniable impulse seized me. “Wait. Close your eyes.”
A question entered her blue eyes, then they fluttered closed, her lips curling up. Before she could get too curious, I scooped her into my arms.
She let out a soft gasp of surprise as her eyes flew open, her arms instinctively going around my neck. “Austin! What are you doing?”
“Carrying you. Saving you that awkward trip up the stairs.” The excuse was flimsy, but the action was monumentally right. I turned and started up the wide, grand staircase.
Her head was tucked into the curve of my neck, her warm breath a tickle against my skin.
She was light in my arms, a warm bundle of chaotic, wonderful Iris.
As I carried her upstairs and past walls that were no longer crumbling, I thought about the first time I’d seen her, a vague, annoying whirlwind of noise next door.
Now, the thought of this house, this life, without her was unimaginable.
When I reached the third floor, I didn’t stop until I reached the doorway of her master suite at the end of the hall, now fully remodeled.
The walls were a soft, calming shade of blue.
The teak floors gleamed. A comfortable king-sized bed, piled high with pillows, stood against the far wall.
Through the wide glass doors that led to her private balcony, the moon cast a silvery path across the calm, dark surface of the Gulf.
It was a reflection of her. Peaceful. Beautiful. Full of gentle strength.
I set her down next to the bed, her hands still linked around my neck. The air was cool and still, a hushed sanctuary after the lively noise of the bonfire. She looked up at me, her blue eyes dark and luminous, full of a deep, trusting love that made my heart ache in the best possible way.
This was the peace I had spent all those years searching for, a peace I’d thought could only be found in solitude. I had been so wrong. True peace wasn’t the absence of chaos.
It was finding your anchor in the middle of it.
And Iris was my anchor.
I leaned in and kissed her, a slow, deep kiss full of all the things I still had trouble saying. Full of gratitude, of reverence, of a love so profound it still scared the hell out of me.
She sighed into my mouth, her body melting against mine in total surrender that was also a claiming. This wasn’t the frantic, desperate coupling of our first time, nor the playful, exploratory passion of our night on the boat. This was something else entirely.
This was worship.
My hands moved to the buttons of her soft cotton shirt, and I unfastened them slowly, deliberately.
I kissed the warm skin of her shoulder, the hollow of her throat, the perfect swell of her breast above the lace of her bra, savoring her taste, her scent.
She arched into me with a soft moan escaping her lips.
After crouching to the floor, I opened the Velcro straps of her boot and gently lifted her leg out. Brushing my fingers over her scar, I pressed a kiss to it. Returning to my feet, I framed her face in my hands and kissed her fiercely.
She undid the button of my shorts, her fingers sure and steady, her touch sending a familiar, welcome fire through my veins.
We moved with the easy, practiced rhythm of two people who had memorized the language of each other’s bodies.
Clothes were shed not with frantic haste, but with a slow, sensual purpose, until we were skin to skin on the cool, soft sheets of her bed, the moonlight painting silvery patterns across her body.
I took my time, exploring her with my hands, my mouth, loving every curve, every plane, every secret, sensitive spot. I loved the way she trembled under my touch, the way she gasped out my name, the way she gave herself over to the pleasure. There were no shadows of the past.
There was only Iris.
When I moved over her, positioning myself between her legs, she looked up at me. Her eyes were full of a love so open and unconditional it was like a benediction.
“I love you, Austin,” she whispered, the words a soft, perfect caress.
And this time, the answering words didn’t feel stuck, didn’t feel terrifying. They were inevitable. “I love you too. So much.”
I entered her slowly, a deep joining that was both a promise and a vow. This was a homecoming, a final clicking into place of a piece of my soul. Her hot, slick body welcomed me, and she let out a soft, breathy sigh of pure contentment.
I stayed there for a long moment, buried deep inside her, my forehead pressed to hers, just breathing her in. I wanted to memorize the feel of her around me, the scent of her skin, the look of unguarded trust in her eyes.
I began to move in a slow, deliberate rhythm. She met me with an answering passion, her legs wrapping around my waist, pulling me deeper. Her hands roamed my back, her nails scraping with a confident, possessive touch that sent fire through me.
Our pace quickened, the slow burn building into a roaring fire. Her soft moans became sharp, breathy gasps, each one driving me on. Tension coiled in her body, and the tremors started deep inside her.
The pressure built inside me in a rushing, unstoppable tide.
I drove into her one last time, deep and hard, my control shattering as her body convulsed around mine.
A raw, guttural groan tore from my throat, my release a shuddering wave inextricably linked with hers.
We crashed over the edge together, two parts of a whole, complete.
Afterward, we lay with her head on my chest, my hand stroking her hair. The rhythm of our breathing was the only sound in the room. I knew a sense of peace unlike anything I had ever known.
She propped herself on an elbow to stare at me, a contented smile on her face. Her gaze swept around the beautiful, finished room, at the moonlight streaming in, at the comfortable sofa in the corner, at the wide, inviting bed we were currently occupying.
“You know,” her voice was a low, teasing murmur, “it’s almost a pity to have this be my private bedroom. It’s the best room in the house. I could add it to the booking engine and make a fortune. Maybe I’ll just remodel an old broom closet downstairs for myself.”
That made me laugh. A real, free, hearty sound that filled the air. “Don’t you dare get any ideas, Holloway. Gus will have you committed, and I’ll have to bail you out.” I hooked an elbow around her neck to pull her down for a kiss.
She giggled against my lips. I pulled back to take in the absolute joy on her face, and a thought settled in my mind.
My smile subsided, my expression turning serious.
“Then again, if you ever did want to rent out your bedroom…” I paused, brushing a stray strand of blonde hair from her forehead, my gaze locked on hers. “You could always move into my place.”
Surprise lit her eyes, followed by that familiar, teasing glint. She arched an eyebrow. “Captain Grumpy? Willingly giving up his sacred, solitary fortress for good?”
I smiled, an easy expression that held no shadows. Then I leaned in and kissed her again, a deep kiss full of a promise I had every intention of keeping.
“I thought that was what I wanted. But I was wrong.” I looked directly into her wide, beautiful blue eyes and said the truest thing I knew. “I found something so much better.”