Iris's POV
He pushed me against the desk.
His body pinned mine, his thigh pressing between my legs. I moaned, my hands gripping his shirt, my hips rolling against him. He was hard, so hard, and I could feel it through his pants, the thick length of him pressing against me.
His mouth crashed onto mine, not gentle, not asking. His tongue swept in, claiming, dominating, and I melted into it, my body arching into his. He tasted like whiskey and something darker, something him, and I wanted more. I wanted all of it.
He bit my lower lip, soothed it with his tongue. "You taste like sin, Iris."
His hands slid under my tank, palming my breasts. My n*****s were hard, aching, and when he pinched one, I gasped, my back arching off the desk.
"You’re already wet, aren’t you?" His hand slipped in
