She looked up him with a question in her eyes, and he gave a jerky nod. Holding her breath, she reached out and touched him, gingerly at first, pulling back when his member twitched beneath her fingers.

He rolled over to his side, and Iris fell with him, only just realizing that he still had his boots on.

She didn’t care. And he didn’t seem to, either.

She pushed him until he was on his back, then crouched next to him, just looking. How had it grown so big?

Yet another thing in her world she did not understand.

She touched it again, this time letting her fingers drift along the surprisingly silky skin. Richard sucked in his breath, and his body jerked, but she knew it was with pleasure, not pain.

Or if it was pain, it was a good kind of pain.

“More,” he groaned, and this time she wrapped her hand lightly around him, glancing back up to his face to make sure she was doing the right thing. His eyes were closed, and he was breathing fast and hard. She moved her hand, just a little bit, but before she could do more, his fingers wrapped over hers, holding her still.

For a moment she thought she’d hurt him, but then his grip tightened, and she realized he was showing her what to do. After a few strokes his hand fell away, and she was left in control, thrilled by the seductive power she held over him.

“My God, Iris,” Richard groaned. “What you do to me . . .”

She caught her lower lip between her teeth as she felt a proud smile rising within her. She wanted to take him over the edge, as he had done for her. After so many lonely nights, she wanted proof that he desired her, that she was woman enough to satisfy him. He would not be able to hide behind a chaste kiss on her forehead again.

“Can I kiss you?” she whispered.

His eyes flew open.

“Like you did to me?”

“No,” he said quickly, the word hoarse and wrenched from his throat. “No,” he said again, and he almost looked a little panicked.

“Why not?”

“Because . . . because . . .” He swore and scooted himself up, not quite to a sitting position, but enough so that he could rest on his elbows. “Because I won’t—I can’t—”

“Will it hurt you?”

He groaned, closing his eyes. He looked so distressed. Iris touched him again, watching his face as his body jerked beneath her. The sound of his breath electrified her, and he looked like . . . he looked like . . .

He looked the way she felt. Overcome.