The red room greeted them with its familiar stillness. The lamps were low but sufficient, gleaming on polished wood, on metal, and on the inviting darkness of the bed. The faint scent of leather, beeswax, and something indefinably intimate hung in the air.
This was where he had first caught her, breathless and wide-eyed, fingers on the sketchbook that should never have been in her hands. Blaise knew she would be unforgettable since then. And now, as she stood there, he wanted to prove to her that she was not a woman who should suffer through humiliation. The only humiliation she needed was that which ended with her cries of satisfaction. She had offered a bargain in this very room that had changed everything, and he would see to it that it was fulfilled.
“The month is over, Iris.” he looked at her then, and she gulped as she stood at the entrance of the red room. “You can choose to stay out there, and you can keep feeling sorry for yourself.”
He motioned for her to come into the room, and she entered obediently.
“Or you can come in here, fully as yourself. With all your humiliation.”
Her eyes flew to his.
He held her gaze. “But you know that with me and in this room, you will not be small. You will not be silent. And you will not be alone.”
Silence stretched between them. He could almost see the battle flickering behind her eyes. The words held a deeper meaning that he only just then realized.
“Can you do that?” he asked softly. “Can you stop living for other people’s comfort and start living for your own freedom?”
Her throat worked. For a moment, he thought she would laugh in his face and walk out, back to the safe cruelty of the party.
“Yes,” she whispered.
He had to force himself not to close his eyes.
“Say it again,” he said.
“Yes.” Stronger this time, though her voice trembled at the edges. “I can.”
He let out a breath he had not known he held and extended his hand.
She looked at it as if it were a weapon and a promise. Then, slowly, she placed her fingers in his palm.
He curled his hand around hers and guided her, step by deliberate step, towards the mirror in front of the bed.
CHAPTER 25
Iris felt each button of her dress give. Silk loosened around her ribs, easing its grip, baring the heat of her skin to the cooler air. She closed her eyes, and the world vanished, leaving only her and him.
“No,” Blaise said quietly behind her. “Keep your eyes open.”
Iris’s lashes flew up before she could resist. Her own gaze met her in the mirror. Her amber eyes looked too large, her mouth too soft and parted.
“I do not wish to watch myself,” she murmured.
“I know.” His tone was almost indulgent. “That is why youmust.”
The gown flowed down, pooling at her feet like a pale puddle of silk. She stood in her chemise and corset, stockings and slippers; she was not naked yet, but she felt indecently bare already underhis gaze. His eyes traced over her in the reflection, unhurried and unapologetic, claiming every inch.
“You will not bind me this time?” she asked innocently.
“Would you like to be bound again?” Blaise replied, his eyes not leaving hers.
Her breath hitched. Yes…I would.”
“Take off the rest of your garments,” he instructed, his voice soft but leaving no room for argument.
Iris hesitated only a heartbeat. Her fingers shook as she drew the linen up and over her head. Blaise stepped away only to pick up something from a nearby table. When he returned into her field of vision, he held a length of dark silk between his hands. It pooled like water between his fingers.
Iris’s breath caught in her throat, and she shuddered.
