Page 168 of Carnal Games

Not because I’m jealous, but because I know he won’t pick up at all unless she texts first letting him know it’s her calling. Iwould rather not see the pity on her face when she realizes how much my brother loathes me.

***

The doorman is able to retrieve her things, not with the phone’s screen intact, by the time a freshly showered Iris emerges from the room half an hour later.

Male satisfaction pours through me knowing she took a shower inmybathroom. I know this because I heard her grab a change of clothes from her room before tiptoeing back to mine.

Again, revealing without words that her heart is set with me, even if she’s wearing my brother’s ring. Come hell or high water, I will coax the truth out of her.

She’s denying both of us what we’re desperately aching for.

I catch a whiff of my soap mixed in her floral scent as she approaches.

My dick hardens to steel in my pants.

I’m still in today’s suit because I was too chickenshit to walk into my closet. Going anywhere close to my room while Iris was naked and wet a mere feet away would’ve been a test of restraint I’m not sure I would’ve passed.

“Hi.” Her sweet and husky voice floats to me.

Sexual tension swirls in the air that could be cut with a knife the instant I lock eyes with her. I rein in my ravenous lust so as not to scare her away.

I pray she can handle it when I unleash it on her.

It’ll be weeks’ worth of pent-up desire and dominant urges I’ve kept at bay.

My mind conjures depraved images of all the ways I’ll take care of her sore pussy and ass after I tire her out with my cock. I will claim every inch of her.

I realize I haven’t spoken when she subtly squirms, glancing submissively at her feet. The purple tank top with thinstraps molds to her braless tits, providing an unobstructed view of her hard nipples. I bet it’s due to me, not the air conditioning. The black skintight leggings make her legs look like they go on for days.

She looks far more delectable than the food.

“Sit.” I nod at the dining table.

“I can help.”

“Rainbow, you can spare yourself one day from the kitchen,” I drawl, moving toward the fridge and taking out two bottled waters. “Be a good girl and let me feed you.”

“What did you order?” I hear her feet shuffle to the chair.

“Dal fry, shahi paneer, butter naan, and rice.” Paneer in any style happens to be her favorite. I picked up on it after noticing her cook it a few times over the weeks. Placing water in front of her, I order, “Drink.”

Delicate hands uncap the bottle while I retreat to the kitchen and carry the food containers and our plates. Once I sit beside her, both of us dig in together, moving in sync as we help ourselves then each other to the food. It feels comfortable, like we’ve been doing it forever.

Iris salivates at the sight of the paneer. The joy etched on her face brings me peace that her mind is off the second attack. I’m relieved she fought back and ran to safety. Nevertheless, I won’t let there be a third time.

“It’s so delicious,” she hums around a mouthful, like she can’t wait to swallow before expressing her glee. It makes her look so young and cute.

The difference in our age bothered me at first until I got to know her. While she’s bubbly, funny, and sassy, there are moments when I see she’s wise beyond her years.

“You’re staring,” she rasps, jerking me out of my stupor. A red hue appears on her cheeks. “Do I have something on my face?”

“No.” I tug her wrist down to her lap as she raises it to check for herself. “I like looking at you.”

“Oh.”

“Eat.”

“Yes, sir.”