Page 42 of Illicit Games

A relieved moan trickles out of her mouth, which she immediately tries to conceal by biting her lip.

I give her a pointed look.

“I’m just exhausted from work.”

“Stubborn little girl,” I scold, removing her other sandal.

“If we were having sex, I would so withhold it.”

Seizing her ankle, I lay her flat on her back and climb on top. Her stunned squeal gets swallowed up when I smash my mouth against hers, thrusting my tongue inside. My hand around her throat, I kiss her hard and deep. My favorite flavor of strawberries erupts in my mouth as I lick every crevice of her mouth.

Her tongue lashes against mine with a hungry whimper. Her fingers claw at my shoulders, my tie, trying to pull me closer.

Nipping her bottom lip, I pull back. As she pants underneath me, I smirk. “Baby, you can’t even resist kissing me when you’re mad, you could never keep me from having your delicious pussy.”

In a sexy move I never saw coming, she shoves me onto my back and straddles my stomach. Leaning forward until her lips are an inch away from mine and with her soft breath teasing me, she sasses, “You’re forgetting something.”

“Yeah?” I cup her round ass, squeezing it roughly. “What?”

“I love a challenge.”

“And I love to punish you.” Flipping her over, I thrust my cock against her heated core until her pupils dilate. “If you ever keep me from fucking you, you better be ready for my belt when you finally let me.”

Shifting down her trembling frame, I kiss her throat and suck her hard nipple through the flimsy top before moving off her. Placing her legs on my lap, I slowly massage her feet. Pleasure heats her ruby cheeks as I rub along the arch.

“I love your heels, Rainbow,” I admit, struck by her gorgeousness as I stare at her spread out on my bed. “But I hate seeing you in pain more, little or not. You can wear flats every now and then.”

“They don’t go with my formal outfits.”

“How about a compromise?”

“I’ll bite.” Curious, she goes, “Shoot.”

My lips twitch. I move to her other feet, massaging the soft skin. God knows I’ve waited to take care of her like this since she moved into my place. “You keep a pair of shoes or flats in my office. You wear them for a few hours whenever your feet start to hurt. Do it for me.”

“Okay,” she relents. “Only for you, though.”

“Thank you.”

Her eyes close, enjoying my hands. When they open again, a frail expression dulls her sky-blue eyes. “I don’t just wear them because they make me feel pretty, you know.”

“Why else?”

“I’ve always been insecure about my height. I’m the shortest in every room and I hate it. Being a woman in any profession is hard enough; it’s even worse when the first impression people have is how short and petite I am. They don’t take me as seriously. My career as a journalist hinges on it. My heels are my armor. They make me feel confident.”

My chest constricts as she shares her vulnerability. She looks so fragile, peering back at me so unguarded. I sense she hasn’t confided this to anyone. The fact that she trusts to reveal it to me warms my slowly melting heart and deepens my fixation on her.

In the next breath, she undoes me completely.

“I’m always intimidated around tall people. Yet I’ve never felt that way around you.” Gracing me with a demure smile, she says, “Protected. Treasured. Beautiful. Sexy. That’s how I feel when I’m around you. You make me love my flaws, Kian.”

Circling her waist, I bring her onto my lap and tuck her hair behind her ears. “You’re flawless, Iris. Every inch of you. Inside and out. Do you hear me?”

“You think stalking someone is flawless?” She scoffs with a self-deprecating laugh. “Any other man would’ve pushed meaway for it. Heck, they probably would’ve filed a restraining order.”

“He would’ve been an idiot.”

“Stalking isn’t normal.”