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Nervously, she pulls at the edges of her solid t-shirt.
I arch an eyebrow at her. “You really didn’t think we were on a date, did you?”
She shakes her head. “No.”
I growl again.
Crawling up the bed toward her, I help her ease her shirt over her head. I stand on my knees, ditching mine as well, and I hook my fingers in the soft black pants she wore to the restaurant.
When I pull them down, Iris moves her hips, flexing up to help me get the stretchy pants over the curve of her ass.
I want to pant when I realize she’s not wearing panties.
“Thorne,” she whispers.
I look up at her face.
Iris is so nervous.
It makes me feral all over again.
I fall on her, kissing her breasts, pressing myself between her legs. I put a finger inside her, and my eyes roll back in my head when I realize how wet she is.
“That’s it, sweetheart,” I whisper. She moans as I add another finger. “I want you so badly.”
“I want you too,” she whispers.
I don’t hesitate.
I scramble, unzipping my jeans. I crawl between her legs and lean down to kiss her.
At the same time, I position myself at her entrance.
And slowly, I press inside.
Iris pants. “Thorne. You’re…”
“I know, sweetheart. You can take me,” I purr, whispering the words. “You’re so fucking sexy. Do you feel how hard you make me, Iris? This is for you. Because of you,” I add.
She moans, and I slide in another inch.
When I’m pressed to the hilt, I lean forward. She feels so good around me, and I resist the urge to start pumping inside of her.
“Iris, look at me,” I murmur.
Her hazel eyes snap open.
“Watch me.”
She nods.
Slowly, I begin to move. I watch Iris’ eyes, noting the shift from shock, to curiosity.
To lust. I continue to move inside of her, thrusting in and out, relishing the feel of her core around my dick.
When I feel her start to tighten around me, I reach down. “Are you ready, Iris?” I whisper.
Her lips part, and I press on her clit.
