He stepped closer until he stood between her legs. Leaning on the desk, his hands on either side of her, he bracketed her in. Iris didn’t move, spell cast as Roman’s gaze aligned with hers. “If you had touched me today, Kitt,” she whispered. “I don’t think I could’ve hidden it anymore. Who you are to me. Who I am to you.” “Like this?” He brushed her knee with his thumb, just beneath her skirt. His touch was soft but possessive, and Iris closed her eyes. “Or this, Iris?” She could feel his fingers caress up her arm and across her shoulder, stopping at the buttons of her blouse. “Yes.” She
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