Her fingers tightened around the edge of the side table.
“And right now,” Blaise whispered, “you are imagining what it would feel like to completely let go.”
Iris inhaled sharply as Blaise dropped his gaze to her frantic pulse in her slender throat.
“You are imagining what it would feel like to let someone else take all the weight you have been carrying for seven years.” heknew he was relentless. “To let someone else handle the things you should never have had to handle so that you can stop feelingworthless.”
Iris gasped.
“I did not say that I felt that way.” Her words were soft but held an edge. “And you do not even know me.”
He agreed. Though he did not truly know her, he understood her in a way few others could. He knew too well what it meant to search for purpose in every part of life. Blaise watched as her throat worked when she swallowed, and he followed the motion hungrily. How he would have loved to taste her and feel her pulse flutter like a trapped butterfly beneath his tongue. He took one more step toward her, close enough that he could smell her sweet scent. His gaze slid slowly down Iris’s body, tracing the rapid rise and fall of her full breasts. He could practically taste her skin already.
“I see the truth in you, Iris,” he murmured, closing the distance between them, letting the heat of his body press against hers, and basking in the sounds of her shallow breath. She closed her eyes.
“Please,” she begged him.
“Open your eyes,” he commanded her, and she obeyed him.
Good Little Blossom.
“If you let me take control, I can give you pleasures you have never experienced since your husband died. Deep… filthy… relentless pleasures.”
Her breathing grew more erratic, and his manhood grew in response.
“I can give you everything you have been starving for,” his husky promises made her shiver.
Blaise watched the flush crawl up her neck and the way her lips parted on a shaky breath. She looked naked already, stripped bare by nothing more than his words. He shifted even closer until the hard, thick ridge of his shaft strained against his trousers and brushed deliberately against her hip, causing her to shudder. He throbbed with the need to bend her over the nearest surface and bury himself inside her welcoming heat. Her arousal was unmistakable, and it drove him insane.
Iris’s voice came out breathless against his. “Your Grace.”
“Yes?” he leaned closer to her expectantly.
“I… I…”
“Go on, Iris. Tell me what it is you desire.”
“I need a month!” she blurted.
CHAPTER 7
The scarred duke frowned down at her; confusion riddled his expression. “A month for what?”
“I… I want to be the one to repair this house,” Iris continued shakily, her words tumbling out too fast because he was too near. “And after that… I will leave you alone.”
His Grace smirked and leaned in until his mouth hovered just beside her ear.
“You think you can be near me for thirty days?” he whispered roughly, and Iris almost lost her balance.
His hand ghosted around her waist, causing her to shiver again.
“Do you plan to ruin me, Your Grace?” she asked haughtily.
He released her immediately.
“Quite the opposite, actually,” he said cockily.
Two can play that game.
