8. The Explanation #3
Nash's hand clenched into a fist, and when he turned back to her, there was a ferocity in his eyes that made her heart race.
"Because I overheard Ackery—that bastard—boasting about you like you were some prize to be claimed.
About how his father tricked your worthless parents into selling you for so little.
" His tone was venomous, his body radiating a dangerous energy.
"The way he spoke... it was vile. He would ruin you, take your light, and smother it. I knew I couldn't let him have you."
Her throat tightened at the intensity of his declaration.
She realized then that Nash's actions had sprung from a place of love.
A twisted, dark, possessive version of love, but love all the same.
His desire to shield her from the world's ugliness motivated him, not some twisted desire to steal her. Not like James Ackery.
He even tried to save her from his own darkness. She stared at him, wide-eyed. Had she ever truly known him?
"Nobody will ever speak about you like that again," he promised, his voice a growl of protective fervor.
"I won't allow it. Back then, hearing him spout such vitriol was what I needed.
It made me realize that someone like you would attract the worst of men.
Like Ackery. Like me. The least I could do was shield you from them.
I, at least, wouldn't destroy you for the fun of it. "
In that instant, Iris understood the man before her in a way she never had before. Nash was an exceedingly competent man. Driven and focused, there was no goal he wouldn't reach once he set it for himself.
But, what she never knew was that he was capable of obsession.
Of such fierce devotion. And despite the fear that whispered warnings in her ear, told her to read the red flags that were popping up all over the place, she felt an undeniable pull towards him instead.
The truth of his actions acted more like a beacon for her than anything else.
Nash's shadow loomed over her as he stepped closer, and Iris could feel the heat emanating from his body. The air between them charged with a dangerous tension.
"I knew what Ackery was into," Nash said, his voice low and steady. "What sort of man he was. I couldn't... I wouldn't let him have you."
Her heart skipped a beat, his words echoing in the stark silence of the room. Iris gazed up at him, searching his face for any sign of deceit. There was none. Only the raw truth of his confession, and something else—vulnerability.
"I'm not good enough for you, I always knew that.
" Nash continued, the muscle in his jaw twitching as he spoke.
"But Ackery, he would've ruined you. He would've taken your goodness and destroyed it.
" His eyes bore into hers, fiercely protective yet filled with an anguish that resonated deep within her. "I was never going to let that happen."
Shock rippled through Iris as she absorbed the weight of his admission. All she had ever wanted was to be someone's everything. To be cherished, protected, loved unconditionally. Was it right in front of her all this time?
As she stood there, enveloped in Nash's fierce gaze, Iris wondered if she could take the leap her heart was begging her to.
With a jolt, she realized that even if he was lying, and even if he never loved her, it wouldn't matter.
The truth was, she loved him. And he had shown her more kindness and respect than anyone else ever had.
More than her parents ever did, that's for sure.
He had sought her out, watched over her, and now, claimed her from the grasp of another.
Fought to have her. And then, when she ran away from him, never stopped looking.
Coming after her, making her come back to him...
it had all the markings of a toxic love.
But... it was still a form of love. And that's all she ever wanted, to be loved.
The silence stretched between them, heavy with confessions and unspoken words. Did she dare take the leap?
Maybe no one else would understand her decision. Maybe they would condemn her. And maybe she didn't care.
They weren't her. They hadn't lived her life. For three years, she ran from him, but not because she didn't want him. In truth, she never stopped loving him.
With a jolt, she realized she didn't care about his actions.
Or his misdeeds. Hell, if whoever he met that night three years ago turned out to be a criminal connection, she just didn't care anymore.
Maybe she never really did. The only reason she ever left him was because she believed he cared nothing for her.
Hearing that he did... It was more than she ever expected.
A tremor of anticipation skittered down Iris's spine, settling as a liquid warmth between her thighs.
Nash loved her. Or, at least, he felt as much for her as he was capable of feeling.
A floodgate opened within her, unleashing a torrent of longing and desire.
In his office, she had tasted the heady power of submission, and now the craving to yield to him again gnawed at her.
"Tell me what you want, Nash," she breathed, the words slipping from her lips like a sacred vow.
Her eyes look up at him, begging him to understand.
She was his, for as long as he wanted her.
Coming back might have started with him blackmailing her, but now...
Now, she's here because she wanted to be.
His silence was a palpable force. She could tell he had no idea what to do with her.
He never expected her to accept his confession so easily.
Maybe neither of them really knew the other.
Iris closed the distance between them, feeling the electricity in the air between them zap her with each step.
Her heart thrummed with a wild rhythm, beating with a reckless cadence.
"Anything," she whispered, standing before him, her body primed for him. "I'll give you anything." While looking deep into his eyes, she reached back for the closure of her dress.
The zip of her dress whispered through the silence, a siren's call that vibrated in the air around them.
Fabric pooled at Iris's feet, and she stepped free from its confines.
She moved towards Nash, letting her near naked form rub against his clothed one.
Then, she reached for the lapels of his jacket and pulled him with her.
He only came of his own volition, she never would have moved him on her own.
When they reach the couches, she pushed gently until he collapsed back into the soft cushions.
A quick tap on his thighs was all that he needed to widen them.
Desire burned in his eyes. He never broke his gaze. Instead, he ate the vision of her up.
She stood between his knees, the heat of his body radiating against the coolness of her skin.
Leaning forward, she placed her hands on the solid strength of his thighs, feeling the tension coiled within him.
Her chest brushed against his face, the rise and fall of her breathing caused her breasts to sway enticingly. Arousal licked down her spine.
Knowing that he cared for her for all these years, it made her happier than she could ever remember being before. She wanted to return that favor. Make him happy.
"Tell me," her voice was a husky whisper, "about the fantasy that keeps you awake at night. What have you always wanted to do, but never had the chance? I want to give you it."
His eyes locked onto hers, dark and fathomless, holding secrets. "You really want to know?" His voice was a gravelly rumble, sending shivers down her spine.
"Yes," she urged, her own curiosity a living thing between them. Her inner goddess reared her dark and insatiable head. How she went three years without sex with him, she'll never know. It felt as necessary as breathing at this moment.