His hand slid higher, and when he reached the curls between her thighs, she gasped. One hand gripped his coat.
“So wet for me,” he groaned. “Do you know what that does to a man, Iris?”
His thumb found the swollen pearl at her center, and she whimpered. Her knees trembled as he circled it slowly and expertly.
“Tell me what you need,” he said, his mouth at her throat, “and I’ll give it to you.”
“That,” she breathed. “Keep doing… that.”
He kissed her then, deeply, almost reverently, as his fingers found her entrance and slipped inside. She moaned into his mouth and her hips began to move in time with him.
“That’s it,” he murmured against her lips. “Take me. Just like that. Let me feel how close you are.”
She clutched at his shoulders, clinging to him as his rhythm built, his fingers stroking her with sinful precision, drawing her higher and higher until her entire body tensed.
He watched her face so he could see the way her lips parted and the flush that bloomed across her chest and neck.
“You’re so beautiful like this,” he rasped. “So undone for me.”
And when she shattered, gasping his name, her body convulsing with pleasure, he held her through it, murmuring praise against her cheek.
“Good girl,” he whispered. “That’s it. Let go for me.”
Only when the tremors eased did he slowly withdraw his hand. He kissed her temple as she trembled in his arms.
“Owen—”
Whatever she’d been about to say was lost as voices sounded in the corridor.
They broke apart, breathing hard. Iris’s lips were swollen, and her hair was mussed where his hands had tangled in it. She looked thoroughly kissed, and Owen felt primitive satisfaction at the sight.
“Your hair,” he said, reaching up to smooth an errant curl.
She caught his hand. “Leave it. Let them see.”
An awed smirk formed on his lips.
“You wanted me to claim you, didn’t you?”
She said nothing, but her eyes held a challenge and something else, something that made his chest tighten.
The voices passed by without stopping.
Owen stepped back and helped her down from the desk with hands that weren’t quite steady.
“We should return before we’re missed,” he said.
“Yes.” But she didn’t move. Instead, she studied him with those knowing eyes. “Owen… what happens now?”
It was the question he’d been avoiding for weeks. What did happen now? They couldn’t go back to polite distance, not after this. But moving forward meant risking everything he’d built his walls to protect.
“I don’t know,” he admitted.
“Well.” She smoothed her skirts with slightly trembling hands. “At least you’re honest about it.”
She moved toward the door, but he caught her arm. “Iris. What Jasper said about Evie. You know it’s not true, don’t you? She’s not mine.”
“I know.” She gently cupped his face. “I’m sorry I doubted you. It’s just sometimes, when I don’t understand what you’re thinking or feeling, it’s easier to assume the worst than hope for the best.”
