Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 87078 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 435(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87078 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 435(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
I let him lead me, but when we reach the doorway, I mumble, “Towel,” against his lips.
“No time to dry off. I want you now.” He pushes me onto the bed, but instead of climbing on top of me, he moves to the side table.
To that drawer.
I must look scared because Iris smirks.
“Relax. I’m just getting more lube. We’ll save the drawer for another time.”
I almost tell him he can do anything to me, use whatever toy he wants, but when he looks over at me again, his dark, wet hair falling in his face, there’s something in his expression that makes me hold back.
The toys can wait. This is about him and me.
When Iris does join me on the bed, he spreads my thighs and runs his hands from my knees to my abdomen. Water drips off both of us, but I’m not cold. The heat from Iris’s gaze could thaw the Arctic.
Then I notice he’s not looking at my face.
My scars aren’t completely healed, so after the hot shower, they’re redder than they were earlier. Iris leans over me and plants light kisses across the raised skin.
“Your scars don’t make you who you are,” he murmurs. “I still find you to be one of the most gorgeous men I’ve ever met.”
“One of the most gorgeous?”
“Fine. You’re the hottest man I’ve ever been with. And these scars …” His fingers lightly trail over my fucked-up body. “They’re a part of you. They represent a large portion of your life. They give you character—”
“Oh, so I was boring before I almost bled to death?”
“Duh. Why do you think we all used to call you Saint?”
I smile. “I’m really feeling reassured here.”
“I’ll put it this way. These imperfections? They’re what make you perfect.”
For some stupid reason, my eyes water, so I bat the tears away the only way I know how—with sarcasm. “That’s a lot of words for ‘I used to be intimidated by your godlike physique.’”
“Mm, and that’s a lot of words for ‘Stop talking and fuck me.’” Iris covers my body with his, and nothing feels better than his skin on mine and his breath on my cheek.
We’ve both had a chance to calm down from the shower, but our cocks are still hard between us, and I’m still desperate to come.
When he starts moving down my body, kissing his way over my chest and abs, I settle back and spread my legs wider.
He sucks the tip of my cock into his mouth gently at first and then engulfs me whole.
“Holy fuck.”
Iris hums in response and then bobs his head, sucking hard on the upstroke and releasing the pressure as he gets to the tip.
I will myself to hold out until he at least gets inside me.
He distracts me with his mouth, while somewhere along the way he covers his fingers with lube. When he first presses against my hole, I’m not expecting it, and my back arches. His free hand pins my chest to the bed while he sucks me deep again.
This time when his finger circles my entrance, I relax into it and let him push inside me.
It’s been a long time since I’ve been with anyone, but Iris makes it easy. Just like in the car earlier, I can’t get enough of him. He stretches me expertly, adding fingers as he goes, and he sucks on my dick enough to drive me crazy but not enough to make me come. I’m thankful for it, but at the same time, it feels like a long, drawn-out tease.
“More,” I beg.
His fingers brush over my prostate, and I almost want to take it back, because now I’m too close.
“I’m about to come,” I say.
He lifts his head. “No, you’re not.” Yet, he brushes over my prostate again.
“Iris,” I whine.
“Not yet,” he orders.
I squirm beneath him because it’s too much. “I’m too close.”
“You won’t be in a second.” He removes his fingers and then lies on top of me, running his hands over my legs to get me to wrap them around his waist.
Then he eases inside me, and he’s right. I’m brought back from the edge by the stretching burn that wasn’t possible with just his fingers.
Iris trembles. “Your ass is like heaven.”
“I’ll be sure to put that on my resume.” I grit my teeth and breathe through the sting. The pain must show on my face or in my voice because Iris lifts up to stare into my eyes.
“Are you still with me?”
“Yes, I want this. I want you.”
Iris readjusts and lowers himself so his chest is against mine, but he can still move in and out of me.
In the shower, when I said being inside Iris made me feel alive, that’s nothing compared to right now.
Iris being on top of me, inside, surrounding me … He makes me whole again.