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Blinking back at him, I shook my head. “God, I have to go.”
He reached for me. “Iris, wait. I can get you to my place. We’ll call for my personal dry cleaner. Your dress is going to be ruined with that porter soaking into it.”
I shook my head so hard that I had to look like one of those bobblehead dolls. “I have to leave.” Dashing out of there double-time, I tried to pretend that I didn’t hear him calling out my name. That idiot from my old class might have just saved me from making the most reckless mistake of my life.
Chapter Four
Iris
“You shouldn’t have left me, luv.”
“Callum?” I shot up in bed and stretched my neck out.
It was pitch black in my room. As a kid, I’d always slept with a nightlight, but I’d outgrown that habit by the time I’d hit high school. Allison was still off with Mr. Goth, and I regretted for the first time in a long time that I had no nightlight and had left my cell phone on my kitchen table when I’d bumbled into my apartment. What was I thinking?
Maybe I’d been thinking that a powerful CEO and billionaire wouldn’t follow me home and let himself into my apartment.
r /> “You shouldn’t be here.” My voice came out as a squeak, as a small, panicked echo that came out as pathetically tiny in the space of the room between us. “I…you have to leave.”
He sat down at the foot of the bed and stroked my cheek. My heart raced, but my clit pulsed again, and my breaths came in short, ragged gasps. I couldn’t deny how much I wanted him. I’d failed in his office and embarrassed myself on the dance floor. Even though he’d snuck into my home and was here in the wee hours of the morning, I couldn’t deny him now. I’d been trying so hard to be the good girl, to play the role my father ordered me to do.
I’d worked hard to be on the right path toward valedictorian at Trinity, and it had led to sleepless nights locked in the basement of the oldest library on campus. I hadn’t tasted life, was still a naïve virgin, but here was the hottest man in all of Dublin, and he wanted to help me change all of that.
“You really should go.” My voice waivered, and even I didn’t buy the small protest I was making.
His hand snaked down to cup my breast through the thin fabric of the nightshirt I’d chosen to sleep in. My nipples pebbled and hardened automatically under his touch. “You don’t want that, do you, luv?”
I swallowed. “No. I…stay, Callum. Make love to me.”
I winced and expected him to mock me, to remind me that he didn’t make love but tended to “fuck,” to leave girls like me in his wake. But he didn’t. Tender hands cupped both my breasts, kneading them with a skill I’d never felt before. I moaned under his touch. Callum grinned and gripped the hem of my shirt. I wriggled as he pulled it off over me, freeing it so he could, in turn, free my body.
“You can do whatever you want to me.”
He licked his lips, and I had the strangest urge to do the same thing to the dimple in his chin, to run my tongue over it and make it mine. “I intend to, Iris. I’m going to make you scream, make you come a hundred different ways that you’ll be begging for more. I’ll make you pant, and you’ll fucking love every minute of it.”
“Sounds amazing,” I admitted.
“It’s bloody more than that,” he said, bending low and covering my left nipple with his mouth.
He was slow at first, just taking me into his mouth and suckling at my nipple. My areola was already so sensitized from his touch that just having my nipple in his mouth made my whole body shake. My clit throbbed again. I crossed my legs underneath me to try and keep myself from coming. I wanted him to do it, needed my first orgasm in his presence to be because he gave it to me. To be because I begged him for it like a dog in heat.
Then he moved to flicking his tongue quickly over my left nipple while stroking and teasing my right with fingers that worked me better than a concert violinist worked a Stradivarius. I bucked against him, and then when my orgasm hit, like fireworks exploding behind my eyes, I screamed.
I screamed again.
And was hit in the head with a pillow.
Ow, what the hell?
Blinking up, I found myself still in my t-shirt and with my thick down comforter curled around me. My legs were wet, and I realized that I’d had the most delightful and naughty of dreams, but that was all it was. Instead of having mind-blowing foreplay with Callum O’Brien, playboy extraordinaire, I’d spent the evening at home alone. Now I was being regarded with maximum confusion and pity by my roommate.
“Um, uh, hi,” I mumbled.
She snorted gleefully as she leaned against my door frame. “Oh, you don’t get to just ‘hi’ me, Iris. That was a freaking crazy dream you had. Or was it just a coincidence you were moaning a certain billionaire’s name and looked like you were having the best sex of your life?”
Blushing, I clutched my pillow to my chest. “I was not having the best sex of my life or any other sex in my dream.”
Just really great foreplay.
