20. Chapter 20

Chapter twenty

Iris was naked. Naked and in his guest bedroom at Buckland Hall, a scene he could not have conjured in his wildest imaginings. Yet there she stood, fireplace crackling behind her. Her breasts, full and round, were on display for him. The dip of her waist begged to be traced by his fingers. Even seeing her bare belly button made him want to tease it with his tongue. She cocked a hip and raised an eyebrow.

“Well?” she said.

He snapped the door shut behind him. “My word, you’re a fucking gorgeous creature.”

That brought a smile to her lips. “There we go.”

“It’s a shame being naked isn’t socially acceptable. The world is missing out on a lovely sight,” he continued, crossing the room to take her in his arms as she giggled. She actually giggled and he could hardly believe his luck in getting to hear it. “You look incredible in clothes, but in nothing…fucking Christ.”

“Not nothing,” she replied. “I am still wearing the earrings you gave me.”

He groaned. “You’ll be the death of me, woman.”

With that, he buried his fingers in her hair and tugged her into him, claiming her lips in a fiery kiss. Her hands flew to his shirt, and she made quick work of the buttons before sliding it from his shoulders, along with his suspenders. He didn’t wear his holster around Buckland Hall. He didn’t think Goddard was foolish enough to try to kill him within its walls again.

Her fingers danced across his chest, slowing when she reached his tattoo. The way she traced it sent a shiver up his spine.

“What does it mean?” she asked.

“The devil horns are meant to represent my men, the Crimson Devils,” he explained, watching her hands. They were delicate things, clean nails and soft skin. He wanted them everywhere.

“And the rosary?” she pressed.

“A nod to my mother,” he told her. “She was…devout. We buried her with the rosary she carried, but I had this done to look like hers.”

“Are you not devout?”

“I used to be, but the bloody fields of France showed me what I needed to see. Heaven and hell exist on earth. Hell was those fucking trenches. Heaven is right here. With you.”

Her eyes snapped to his face. The touched looked behind them disarmed him. But he meant every word.

She kissed him again, softer this time, but he wasn’t having it. He pushed his mouth into hers insistently, drawing out a muffled whimper. Her dainty fingers at the nape of his neck made his hips roll toward her. He curled an arm around her and pulled her in until her breasts were pressed into his chest. Her skin flushed and her nipples hard, he was desperate to drop his trousers.

First, he had to do something he’d been thinking about since the moment he met her—he reached down and grabbed a handful of her ass. Her soft flesh molded to the shape of his hands. Her back arched further into him and her breath hitched in her throat.

He lifted her up and with smooth ease. She locked her legs around his waist and he carried her to the bed to lay her down before draping his body over hers. Her hair fell back, revealing the earrings, which he rewarded with a nip to her neck.

His hands trailed up her body to fondle her breasts, rolling the hardened peaks of her nipples between his fingers. A surge of heat stirred in him to see her hands snap to the mattress and squeeze handfuls of the sheets.

“Rowland, I want…” she trailed off with a soft moan.

“Tell me what you want,” he replied.

“Your mouth.”

He lowered his lips to her nipple and flicked with his tongue. She gasped and rocked her hips.

“No, not there,” she panted.

He raised an eyebrow at her. “Oh? Where then?”

“Like before…in your office…”

He slid his hand between them, barely grazing her clit with a finger. “Here?”

“Please!” she gasped.

He leaned down until his mouth hovered by her ear. “You want me to lick your pretty cunt?”

She whined and nodded.

“Say it, Iris. I need the words.”

“Yes, Rowland, please,” she begged.

Without wasting another second, he went to his knees beside the bed. Taking hold of her thighs, he hauled her to the edge of the mattress until her hips were nearly hanging off. Her little yelp of surprise was too adorable. He rested her thighs on his shoulders and pressed a kiss to the inside of them. But he was done teasing her. He dove into her wet heat, wrapping his lips around her clit and sucking until her back lifted off the bed and her heels dug into his shoulder blades.

“Rowland!”

Fuck, his name sounded so sweet from her mouth. Dying for her to say it again, he swirled his tongue around her clit. That earned him a choked cry and her hand in his hair. She gave it a gentle tug, sending a delicious sting over his scalp, which made him want her even more. He had her naked, but he wanted the rest of her defenses to come down now. He wanted her to scream and moan as loud as she wanted, to forget any name but his.

He lifted a hand to her entrance and teased it with his middle finger. When she rocked toward him, he took it as permission to slide it inside. She was so tight and wet, it was as if she was consuming him.

“More, Rowland, please,” she moaned.

He added a second finger, exploring her until he found that sweet spot inside. The one that made her moan guttural and carnal. It was even better than the sound of his name.

He worked her up until the pitch of her voice was an octave he’d never heard before. Rasping, desperate whines heaved from her chest. Her grip on his hair tightened. He groaned into her center, and she shuddered at the vibration. Her walls fluttered around his fingers, and he knew she was about to come undone. He kept his pace steady and strong until finally—

“God, Rowland!” she screamed.

Her legs trembled on either side of his head and her hips bucked wildly as she rode out her high against his face. His cock grew painfully hard at the sight of her orgasm. Her body writhing of its own accord, her hair mussed beneath her head, her hands grasping at his hair and the sheets—she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. If he died in the next few minutes, he would go out a happy man, for he had given Iris this pleasure.

He pulled away as she caught her breath. Her eyes blew wide when he brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked them clean .

“What?” he said with a smirk. “I can’t get enough of how you taste.”

She shot him a weary smile. “You’re filthy.”

“You have no idea.”

He scooted her back up the bed and crawled on top of her again, claiming her mouth in another kiss. This one was slow and deliberate, but she broke it off since she was still panting. She bit her lip and glanced between them at the bulge in his pants.

“I suppose I should…return the favor,” she said, and he could see the reservation in her eyes.

“Only if you want to,” he said. “I told you, Iris, this isn’t a transaction. Do you want to suck my cock?”

She winced. “Would you be terribly offended if I said no?”

“Of course not.”

“It’s just—it’s something Lewis used to make me do when I was having my monthly, or if he couldn’t…perform, and the idea of it makes me—”

“Iris,” he cut her off with a finger to her lips. “Sorry for interrupting, but you don’t have to explain. I do that for you because I want to. I enjoy it. But you don’t ever have to take me in your mouth if you don’t want to. That wouldn’t be fun for either of us.”

“Yes. Well. Thank you.”

He kissed her. Once again, he believed he should have killed Lewis Mooring that day, but he didn’t want to spend another thought on that vile man. Rowland had Iris now. And he would show her what it meant to be with someone who deserved her.

Her hands went to his belt, and she undid the clasp with expert pace. Impressed, he let her take the lead, and she unbuttoned his trousers and pulled down the zipper. All while still kissing him. When she took hold of his waistband, she yanked everything down. Finally, his cock was free. Hard and eager to be inside her.

She broke away from the kiss and looked at him. “Take it all the way off.”

He stood up, shimmied out of the rest of his clothes—socks and shoes and all—but when he returned to the bed, she grasped his shoulders and pushed him onto his back against the pillows. She settled onto his lap, her soaking heat right at his tip, and he bit back an embarrassingly desperate whine for her.

His gaze roved over her stunning form. The woman was a queen, regal and elegant. That she allowed him to see her at her most vulnerable utterly humbled him.

“Iris,” he growled. “Please.”

Steadying herself on his shoulders, she sank down. Releasing a haggard groan, he gripped her hips, and he filled her, inch by inch, until she had taken all of him. Her mouth dropped open and her nails bit into his skin. Her eyes locked onto his.

“You feel so good,” she said softly. “Don’t move yet, I just want to feel you.”

Holding still while he was inside her with her tits in his face should have been impossible. But with her, it was necessary. To savor this moment. Where he could officially say he was Lady Iris’s lover.

She began a slow rocking pace against him, grasping his hand and putting it to her breast. He obliged her with his mouth on the other.

“Fuck,” she sighed.

She picked up her speed. He forced himself to focus on her breasts because she felt so good around his cock that if he thought about it too much, he wouldn’t last. And needed to last. He needed her to finish around him. Her fingers raked through his hair and over the cropped sides as she pulled him closer to her flushed chest.

She rutted her hips even faster, lifting enough that he could buck up into her and match her pace. She sucked in a breath as he found that spot with his cock and aimed to hit it with every thrust.

She was already clenching. His fingers pressed into the flesh of her hips, and he craned his neck to find her mouth. They clattered together in a bruising kiss as they chased the high as one. Iris’s soft little moans fell into Rowland’s mouth. He swallowed them up with his own.

“I’m going to—oh, Rowland!”

“Let it go, Iris, fucking come for me.”

She bounced on him two, three more times when the pressure finally broke, her legs shaking against his hips. He stilled inside her, holding his own release off. Her body jerked, so he pulled her close and she slowly came back down, settling against his body.

“Rowland,” she panted. “You haven’t—”

“I can’t, not inside,” he grunted. “You haven’t started those herbs yet, and you don’t want to get pregnant.”

“Right,” she said, and he saw a mist in her eyes.

After a quick kiss, she lifted herself up and sat to his side. She reached for his cock and wrapped her hand around it. He nearly doubled over.

“Fucking hell,” he groaned.

She captured his mouth in a kiss and pumped him, hard and fast, at the same rate she had been riding him moments before. Her grip was the perfect amount of pressure. His hips rocked, controlled by her instead of himself. The pressure in his belly was wound tight as a spring. A few more strokes and he would break.

“Let it go, Rowland, fucking come for me,” she said huskily into his ear.

“Fuck!” he cried, and the dam broke.

He spilled into her hand, his body taut with his release. She loosened her grip as she eased him down, with the sexiest smirk on her lips. He drew in deep, gasping breaths.

“You really are going to be the death of me, woman,” he said.

She chuckled, reaching for the tissue box on the nightstand, and cleaning her hand.

“I don’t think it’s such a bad way to go,” she said.

“Come here, you.”

She tucked herself under his arm with a satisfied hum. Now that his mind was clear, there were other things on it.

“Iris,” he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “You aren’t going to visit Sybil anytime soon, are you?”

She lifted her head to face him. “Not until she’s due to have her baby. Why?”

“I think it’s best you stay away from Liverpool until this business with Bishop Goddard is settled. Especially now that we’re together.”

“Aren’t you going back, though?” she asked, a wrinkle forming on her brow.

He shook his head. “I’m here for another week or so before I absolutely have to be back. But I’ll return to Buckland Hall as soon as I can.”

“What’s this urgent business in a week?”

“Claire’s birthday.”

“Ah,” she said with a smirk. “Most urgent.”

He craned his neck to peck her lips. “When is Sybil’s baby due?”

“November,” she said. “Is that enough time to finish off Goddard?”

“Let’s hope so, love.”

She rested against him once more, and he dragged his fingers up and down her arm. He felt her heart rate slow down as her breathing evened out. The question burning in his mind refused to be stifled, so he opened his mouth to ask it.

“Would you come live with me?” he said. “Once it’s safe?”

She didn’t answer. His heart quickened, afraid he’d scared her off, but when he shifted to see her face, he found that she was sound asleep. He might have thought her pretending in order to avoid an answer, but her mouth was wide open with a dribble of drool coming out. It was the most undignified she had ever looked, and it made his heart squeeze with affection. Smothering a laugh so that he wouldn’t wake her, he closed his eyes, drifting off to sleep himself.