Page 58 of Devil's Iris
I had braced myself for ice queens—women hardened by marriage to the most feared men in the city. Instead, they were all just… normal. Human. Real. And I guess because we’re all close in age, except for Emily, connecting felt effortless.
Emily surprised me the most, though. With her background as an ex-FBI agent—and that infamous live interview last year where she was shot on camera—I assumed she’d be the toughest, most guarded. But she’s easily the kindest of them all.
I catch myself smiling as I think about the women. Maybe it’s delusional, but I can almost see us becoming close friends if I allow it.
“You know, they peppered me with questions about the preparations for the wedding, and I realized I know absolutelynothing except that it’s next Saturday. Pretty weird for a woman supposedly drowning in love.”
Romero’s gaze drops to me, the hand on my shoulder sliding up into my hair. “Not so weird when we have a wedding planner overseeing everything.”
What a man thing to say. I bury my face in his chest. “Trust me, wedding planner or not, if this were a real wedding, I’d want to be involved in everything. What if I don’t like the cake flavor the planner chooses? Or the floral arrangements? Hell, I don’t even know where the wedding is taking place.”
“Do you want me to link you up with the wedding planner?”
I roll my eyes at his cluelessness. “I’m saying it would be easier to sell our ruse of being in love if we were more involved in the planning process. People notice details, Romero.”
His chest expands on a deep inhale. “You might have a point. I’ll check my schedule and let you know when we can meet up with the planner, check out the venue, whatever you need.”
Wait, what?Excitement shoots through me. I didn’t think he’d actuallylisten. I’m smiling as I tilt my head up to meet his gaze. “That would be great. Also, you should probably know that the girls were appalled that—” The words die in my throat.
His gaze has drifted to my lips, eyes darkening with an intense hunger that almost scares me. “Romeo?” The nickname slips out as a shaky whisper, my pathetic attempt to remind us of our reality.
This is just pretend. Just pretend. Just?—
“Just one little taste,” he murmurs, leaning down towards me. “Just one.”
The air between us cackles with electric tension, goosebumps erupting all over my skin as awareness floods through me. His free hand drops to my thigh, pulling me closer, and I lethim, my body pliant. Then his lips crash into mine, fierce and demanding, with no hint of the gentleness in his touch.
My lips part in surprise and his tongue slips in, exploring, taking. I moan into his mouth as I kiss him back with matching urgency, my hands sliding from his chest to the back of his neck, threading through his hair, pulling him deeper.
More. I need more.
My body shifts restlessly on the seat as I try to press closer, desperate for more of this heat that pulses between us. The hand on my back moves forward, the rasp of his fingers against my dress sending jolts of electricity through every nerve ending.
Then he cups my tits over the fabric, his thumb brushing my hardened nipples, and I gasp into his mouth as the sensation spirals through me, liquid heat pooling low in my belly.
“God, you feel so fucking good,” he growls, breaking the kiss for a moment. His voice is raw, thick with desire, and it only fuels the fire building inside me.
I slide my hands down to his chest, tugging at his jacket, his shirt, craving the warmth of his skin beneath. The need for him is so fierce it consumes me. I’m starving for him, burning up with it.
I’ve never felt anything close to this intensity in my life, and under different circumstances, I might be worried. But right now, I’m too far gone to care.
Then his hands clamp onto my hips, and before I can process what’s happening, he’s dragging me onto his lap while simultaneously thrusting his hips up to meet me, the hard press of his erection against my core absolutely divine.
My eyes flutter shut as sparks detonate through me, my head falling back as a throaty moan slips out, filling the car before I can stop it.Who am I? What has he done to me?
An answering groan rumbles from him. “Your sounds drive me fucking crazy,” he breaths, placing his hands on my upperthighs and spreading my legs wide. So wide it almost hurts, but the good kind of hurt.
The dangerous kind.
His hands skim over the bare skin, and I shiver in his arms as an electric thrill rushes through my system. My legs part even wider for him, a shameless invitation I can’t control. He accepts greedily, his hands climbing higher, leaving trails of fire in their wake. Up and up and up until I’m wound tighter than a bowstring. Then he cups my core through my panties, and I buck so violently I almost fall out of his lap.
Holy—
“Fuck.” His free hand quickly grabs my lower back to steady me. “Easy,bellezza,” he murmurs into my ear, his warm breath brushing the shell only winding me tighter instead of easing me. “I’ve got you.”
Then his fingers gently move my panties aside, and when he makes direct contact with my most intimate flesh, I lose what’s left of my mind. My core clenches, my teeth gnashing as I moan long and deep, writhing in his arms for more.More. More. More. More.The word becomes a mantra, my heart thundering with it.
I’ve touched myself before, alone in my bedroom when the need became too much to ignore. But it’s never been like this—never. My entire body is lit up from head to toe with strange, wonderful tingling sensations, and I feel like I’m one trigger away from exploding.
