His hand found her hair. Not pushing. Just there.

"Iris." Rough and unsteady. "If you don't stop—"

She pulled off slowly and looked up at him. His eyes were dark and heavy and his chest was heaving and he looked nothing like the man who had walked into her apartment with a contract and an offer.

She reached for the nightstand and came back and rolled the condom on him and straddled his hips and sank down slowly.

They both made a sound that filled the room.

She planted her hands on his chest and rode him. Slow at first, rolling her hips, feeling every inch of him, watching his...