She noticed the way the three maids gulped as though lumps had formed in their throats. Were they all so scared of King Ember? Should she be?
As if they were worried she might tell the king, they did not argue. Instead, they worked on removing her dress and the pins and ribbons that held her hair in place.
"We should leave you to rest," one of them suggested once they had finished. Iris didn't argue. She would have done anything to be left alone just then. She looked at them and dismissed them with a wave. Her time with Perivale had taught her one thing: she might have been a slave to her master, but everybody else was to treat her like royalty. It was her only solace to know that she could dismiss those flapping about her unless her master ordered them otherwise.
The moment she was alone, she flopped down onto the feather-soft four-poster bed in her undergarments. Breathing a sigh of relief, she allowed herself to close her eyes for a moment. The sleep she'd had earlier hadn't been enough.
She could have only been asleep a few minutes before she heard raucous pounding on the chamber door. Sitting bolt upright in shock, she gaped as the door swung open and King Ember strode in.
His charcoal eyes were ablaze with desire and Iris barely had a chance to register the look on his face before he crossed the room and yanked her up from the bed.
"Iris, you infuriate me!" he snarled at her, holding her by her upper arms so she could not escape him. The backs of her knees were pressed against the butt of the bed, and she knew there was nowhere for her to go.
"Your Grace, I…" she began to plead, fearful that he would turn out to be just as violent, if not more so, than Lord Perivale had been.
His face loomed towards her and she shied away, fearful that a fist or the palm of his hand would follow. Then, suddenly, his lips were on hers.
The kiss was such a shock to her system that she stood frozen, unsure of how to react.
Perivale had forced himself upon her many times but never had he kissed her. Never had he attempted something so intimate. Instead, he had always simply torn at her clothing and forced her down onto the bed.
Ember's hands rose to the sides of her face, cupping her cheeks, before he ran his fingers through the roots of her hair and cupped the back of her head. She felt him tug gently on her roots, not quite hard enough to cause pain. It was, however, enough to make her tilt her head back, and the moment she did, his lips left hers and began to trail down the side of her neck.
When he reached her clavicle, his teeth grazed deliciously over her flesh and she began to quiver, heat shooting through her chest and cascading downwards to pool between her thighs.
The sheer material of her undergown was no match for the king and when his hand came down to brush her gown up, she knew what was coming.
Instinctively, she placed her hands on his chest, intending to try to push him away. Her resistance did not last long. The moment she felt the softness of his fingertips brush between her thighs, her entire body ignited with desire.
"Please," she breathed, though she was as sure as he whether she wanted him to stop or continue.
Ember's hand cupped her pussy while his other gripped her around the back of the head. His kiss softened and, in a moment, he was gazing down at her, a stern expression on his face.
"This is what you want, isn't it?" He whispered against her lips, his voice little more than a rumble in his throat.
No, no! This isn't what I want! she wanted to scream. She wanted to mean it. I can't want this!
But when she opened her mouth to respond, all she could say was, "Yes…"
That was all he needed. Iris's breath hitched in her throat as he dipped a single finger inside her. At first, he only used the tip. Every time he removed it, he slid it in just a little further, coaxing pleasure from her body as she began to tremble against him.
"Good girl," he whispered in her ear when she began to moan, "I want you to cum for me."
A knot of pleasure had been building deep inside Iris’s stomach. It grew so intense that it was almost painful.
Just as her climax was about to hit, Ember’s fingers suddenly stopped. Frustration caused her to grit her teeth and she clutched the front of his shirt tightly.
“Please, don’t stop,” she pleaded. A growl rumbled in Ember’s throat, but it was not an angry sound. It was as though he had liked her pleading. Taking it as a sign to continue, she turned her face up to him and pleaded, “Please, make me…”
Suddenly, she sat bolt upright in bed. Disoriented, she glanced around the bedchamber only to find that she was utterly alone. Heart hammering in her chest, she suddenly realized that it had all been a dream.
“Get him out of your head,” she scolded herself aloud, unsure how she should feel. A part of her felt violated, as if he had forced himself upon her from within her own mind. And yet her insides still tingled with the desire for more.
You can’t want him! she snapped at herself, this time unable to say the words out loud. She could not allow herself to have feelings for a man who was, for all intents and purposes, her owner. I am not a pet.
That thought brought with it images of its own, and she imagined Ember stroking his hands all over her body. Being treated like a pampered pet would be better than what she had experienced with Lord Perivale.
No! I can’t think like that, she practically screamed in her own head. She was about to scream out loud when there was a knock on the door. For one wild moment, she allowed herself to imagine that it was King Ember coming to act out all that had transpired in her dream.