2. Dark Fantasy #2
That was it. She had wanted love. That was why she had gravitated to Nash so easily. He had been the first man she ever loved, and he had done a great job of fooling her into thinking he loved her, too. But those years in Arizona had also taught her something else.
She would never get love. Not the kind she wanted. Her heart had been stolen by the man before her long ago, and no matter how hard she tried, she was never getting it back. She was the type of woman who loved once and completely. And that man was always going to be Nash.
And with no heart of her own to give away, how could she ever expect someone to give her theirs? But as she stared into Nash’s fiery blue eyes, she couldn’t help but wonder if possessive lust would be an adequate substitute.
With genuine love not on the table for her, could she settle for what he could offer?
If the last twenty-four hours were anything to go off of, their married life would be tolerable.
But could she make it better by finally letting her inner desires float to the surface?
The dark fantasies that she had never let see the light of day.
Her eyes became heavy-lidded as she stared at the virile male before her. If anyone could turn them into reality, it was him. He must have picked up on her shifting thoughts. His eyes narrowed, and his breaths began to come faster.
“You are going to dress like what you are.” His eyes bored into hers, unblinking.
“Like a woman who dresses to entice her man. To drive him wild, so that he comes home early and fucks her the way she wants him to. You’re not some young debutante trying to win an advantageous marriage.
You are a queen among peasants. And you’re going to dress like one. ”
Iris’s breath hitched at the intensity of his gaze burning into her.
She never could have imagined that a set of clothes could hold such power, such significance.
Growing up in the world she had, clothes had been a way to send a message—to showcase wealth, privilege, and not much else.
She had never cared too much about them, choosing instead to grant her mother carte blanche over her wardrobe.
It had just been easier that way. Her mother had preferred Iris to remain silent whenever possible.
To be nothing but a pretty decoration—seen and appreciated, but never heard.
But hearing Nash speak about it, about her, in such a way filled her with a sense of empowerment she had never experienced before.
In that moment, she realized that it wasn’t just about the clothes.
They were simply a tool. No, not a tool—but a weapon.
They were nothing more than the sword she could wield to reclaim herself.
To shed the layers of societal expectations and instead embrace her own desires.
Nash had seen through the fa?ade she had carefully constructed, unraveling her true self in ways that no one else had ever cared to.
Their connection went beyond the physical; it was an unspoken understanding that transcended the material world.
Iris could feel Nash’s words resonating deep within her, awakening something dormant inside that she had long forgotten was there.
She knew now that this wasn’t just about him staking his claim on her—it was about her embracing her own power and becoming the woman she had always been meant to be.
And he wanted her to do so. He didn’t want the puppet her mother had coached her to be, but the real woman she had hidden away.
A lust-filled wave crashed down upon her, and she let it sweep her away gladly.
He would be her husband—of that, he had made sure.
Why should she fight back her desire? Sex was the one thing they had always been able to do.
If he thought he could sit back and make her want him and then leave her high and dry, then he had another thing coming.
With deliberate movements, she lowered her hands to his zipper.
She felt the breath in his chest come to a stutter.
She had rarely been this forward with him before, but the look in his eyes let her know he was more than okay with it.
His cheeks had a slight flush to them as arousal flooded through him.
The knowledge that she could affect him in the same way he did her was nothing short of heady. Damn near intoxicating. She met his gaze and let her eyes show him just how much she wanted what was coming.
Warrick's eyes widened, as if she had taken him by surprise.
The girl he knew three years ago might have shied away from this kind an animalistic lust, but that wasn't her.
Not anymore. She'd grown, and she was taking what she wanted.
For a brief moment, the intensity of the situation felt too heavy to bear.
But then he snapped back, his resolve reaffirmed.
"You want me? You've got me," he growled, his voice low and dangerous.
He didn't wait for her to move again. Instead, he yanked down his trousers and boxers in one violent movement, freeing his aching erection.
The look in his eyes left no doubt that the control he ceded over to her was now firmly back with him.
But how far could she push him? Could she make him lose that coveted control completely? She didn't know, but she decided she really wanted to find out.
Iris's eyes widened as she took in his member, but she didn't flinch.
No, instead, she leaned closer to him, her hands deliberately reaching for him.
She wrapped her fingers around his length, and their eyes met once more.
There was no fear in her gaze now, only raw, animalistic desire.
Her fingers stroked him, her movements deliberate and precise.
Nash groaned, throwing his head back. Unable to beat back the sounds, she managed to wring out of him.
"You are a fucking tease," he growled. "I'm going to make you pay for that later, but for now, I won't stop you from taking what you want.
In fact, I'd like to see you try to stop now.
" His words were dark, and his eyes flashed something dangerous that she'd only ever seen hints of.
"You freed the beast, ma fleur, now you have to deal with him. "
Iris's heart raced as she took his words to heart, knowing that her control of him was only surface level.
Nothing like the absolute control he held over her.
But, surprisingly, she realized she didn't care about that.
The power that rushed through her at the knowledge that she could bring him to his knees was enough.
Looking at him now, she knew it wouldn't take much and she could make him lose himself to lust. And that sent delicious shivers through her nerve-endings.
With a cocky smirk thrown up at him. She slid her free hand down his body and she sunk to her knees before him.
Once there, she let her lips brush against the sensitive skin of his inner thigh.
The hitch in his breathing caused by her actions sent wicked desire flowing through her.
She could feel the heat and the electricity that coursed through his body at her touch.
She looked up at him with a devilish smirk of her own, she licked at the seam of where his leg and his hip joined. Ending with a playful nip to the tender skin there. The grunt from above her was more than satisfying.
She pulled back and maintained eye contact the entire time as she leaned forward to take him into her mouth.
Without breaking his gaze, she sunk as far down on him as she could.
As his hard length pressed against the back of her throat, she couldn't help but think about how this moment would forever change her.
She was no longer a girl who hid her wants and desires, who pretended to be the woman her family always wanted her to be.
No, that girl was gone. And in her place was a woman, confident and empowered, taking control of her own desires and pleasures.
And if her family couldn't handle that... then they'd have to deal with it. Because it was clear that was exactly who Nash wanted her to be. And thanks to him, she was finally free.
Warrick's hands threaded through her hair, guiding her movements as she pleasured him.
Urging her to go faster and deeper with every stroke.
He watched her as if mesmerized by the sight before him.
Unbidden, she got the urge to tease him even further.
With a particularly naughty twinkle in her eyes, she slowed down.
His eyes flared with outrage. He looked down at her, and his eyes narrowed when they saw the amused glint in her own.
His hands dove into her hair, pulling on it painfully when she came to a stop with only the tip of him in her mouth.
She looked up at him with a challenging sheen in her amused eyes.
"You are playing with fire," he breathed, his voice low and heavy with desire. His gaze never left her face, he grunted, his hands pulling painfully against her scalp. But Iris didn't move. She quirked a brow. As if to say 'What are you going to do about it?'
She knew exactly what game they were playing, and it was one that they used to do before she left.
Rough sex was something he eased her into.
And while it never came close to the intensity they were playing with now, she knew instinctively that this was what she wanted.
She wanted the power over him, and then she wanted him to make her yield it to him.
To drive him to such levels that he gave them both what they wanted.
And she knew he planned to do just that.