Page 70 of Devil's Iris
Still, as I shrug out of my tie and jacket, my gaze keeps drifting back to her, knowing she’s probably miserable. “Damn it.” The words come out as a frustrated mutter as I approach the bed. I can’t leave her trapped like that, not when she’s out cold.
I lean over, hovering above her, mind racing with how the hell I’m supposed to peel her out of it without crossing a line—when suddenly her eyes pop open and nearly stop my fucking heart.
But she only blinks those gray eyes at me, groggy andunbothered. “You’re so hot without a shirt,” she mumbles before rolling onto her stomach and passing right back out.
I watch her for several heartbeats, my pulse hammering in my throat, but she’s definitely unconscious again. Fuck. Taking advantage of the opportunity, I lean down and slowly pull the zipper down her spine. There. That should give her some relief.
After a brief hesitation, I reach for the clasp of her bra and undo it too. My cock stirs despite my best efforts to keep this clinical.
I spin away immediately, grabbing my erection through my pants, squeezing from base to tip as I fight the sweet urge to go into the bathroom to take care of this problem. It’s one thing to jerk off in the privacy of my own bathroom at home but another to do it when she’s right there, vulnerable and?—
Cold shower.Now.
I strip the rest of my clothes and force myself under the coldest spray I can stand, the icy water doing wonders to shock my blood back where it belongs—in my brain instead of my cock. For a while, at least.
Because the second I walk back into the bedroom, everything unravels.
She’s naked. Completely.
Stark. Fucking. Naked.
My breath seizes, my cock going rock-hard again as my gaze catches on her heart-shaped ass and trails down her shapely thighs. What the fuck. My eyes dart to the floor where her dress and underwear lie discarded next to the bed. She must have woken up again while I was torturing myself under cold water.
Fucking hell.
I stand there frozen for several seconds, throat dry, veins thrumming with heat while my brain completely empties of any pure thoughts. My fists clench involuntarily as I imagine gripping those hips, pulling her back against me, burying myself so deep inside her that?—
My eyes squeeze shut, but the image is burned into my retinas.
Jesus Christ.
Heart hammering, I force myself forward and pull the covers up to her neck, being extra careful not to wake her as I hide the temptation from my view. Then I head for the living area, planning to spend the night on the couch where I can’t see her, can’t smell her, can’t be tempted further, and can finally convince myself to think about anything other than my fiancée’s naked body.
But as I step out, the suite’s door swings open and in stumbles a giggling Elira with Maximo close behind. They freeze at the sight of me in just the towel slung low around my hips.
Maximo dramatically takes a step in front of his pregnant wife, blocking her view of me. “What are you doing out here, fucker?” he growls.
“Relax. Just grabbing some water,” I lie smoothly, making my way to the fridge. “What areyoudoing here? Thought you guys were giving us privacy?”
“It’s my fault.” Elira peeks around Maximo’s shoulder with an apologetic smile. “I wanted to see the light show. Then we went for a walk, lost track of time, and when we got back, every room here and at the nearby hotels was booked out.”
“So we came back here. Don’t worry, Elira’s room is at the other end.” He points with a wink. “We won’t hear you.”
I grab the bottle of water, mind racing with the heavy realization that I’m trapped in that bedroom with naked Leni tonight. No escape to the couch in the main living area. No space to put between myself and temptation.
Fuck.
When I get back into the room, I drop the towel and pull on a pair of casual pants and a shirt. The small couch in here is clearly designed for decoration rather than actual human use, and after several minutes of trying to find a position that doesn’t involve my knees around my ears, I give up.
My gaze drifts to the bed, equal parts trepidation and excitement barreling through me at the thought that, if I want even a shred of rest tonight, I’ll have to lie down next to her.
You can do this. Just… don’t touch her.
Heart thudding, I climb over the covers, my muscles locked up with tension as I stare at the ceiling.
Think clean thoughts.
Think about work. Think about what you’ll do when you find the thief stealing your meds.
