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Please continue reading if you’ve read the story starter – a very long Chapter 1 – and you’re ready to dive into the story with me.

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About the story: (short description. Click here for longer)

“Let Me Love You” is not just a tale of love and sacrifice but also a poignant story of self-discovery, celebrating the human capacity to find love in the most unlikely of circumstances.

Please enjoy the current WIP of Iris and El. This will be published freely up to a point… like the old days and then the entire book will be posted for the full download. I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments. And don’t forget to check out the companion stories. (Wicked Chances, Dreams of Reality, The Convenient Wife, The Other Side of Love, She Works Hard for the Money & Ravenous)

Enjoy, Your Author, Sylvia Hubbard

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Read more: Let Me Love You – Chapter 26✍🏾📚❤️ #SylLit #WIP #livestory 📖💓 #marriedwife #demandedconsensual #darkromance

El forced himself not to respond to her most adorable question. 

How could a woman as brilliant have so many innocent moments?

Had she never had time to explore herself? Love on herself? 

How was he going to keep his composure when she continued to be adorable, funny, and so damn sexy simultaneously. When he needed to be serious, she wasn’t, and despite his reservation about not mixing business with pleasure, this woman made him drop every standard just to be close to her. One moment, he needed he to understand her boundaries with him, and then next, he wanted to kill anyone who even thought of touching her. 

“I assure you I don’t tease,” he responded.

Iris looked at the bed again and then back at him. “If you’re taking it slow because you think I can’t distinguish business from pleasure, I can guarantee you have nothing to worry about. I’ve been on the receiving end of disappointment for so long. When you decide to pull away, I’ll expect it and adjust.”

Dammit, when she said things like that, he found himself aching to make his shaft happy. The monster in question almost came to full attention, and El had to shift himself due to the tightness of his pants. 

That wasn’t all his intentions of bringing her here, but it was part of his motives. He still needed her to break up with the past and jar her memory to realize something wasn’t right. Upon speaking with the widow about Amus Folsom, El formulated an incident happened here around the month Iris got pregnant. Iris acted tonight as if she had no recollection of this place or the events around her getting pregnant. Yet when Damien came, she felt uneasy, and El was sure something would come to the surface.

His initial inclination was to believe she was trying to use him, deceive him, or get one over on him, but as the night progressed, he realized that after Damien left, Iris had no idea what was going on. 

Still, he didn’t think they’d make it to the bedroom before something would come to the surface for her, and now that they were here, El was getting ready to put his other intentions aside and move on to the next part of his plans for Iris. 

“Knowing my idiosyncrasies, I find it difficult to acclimate to you despite my desire for you, Iris.” He used that moment to step forward. “And I wouldn’t want you to have difficulty being with me.” 

She narrowed her gaze. “Difficult? To be attracted to you?” Iris fanned herself as if the temperature in the room increased tenfold. He then placed her palm on her lower stomach again, which always brought his visual attention to her, and then his eyes would drift up to her breasts. 

As usual, he suddenly found himself thirsty and resisted the urge to lick his lips.

She softly spoke as if what she was thinking was an afterthought. “Maybe I’m a sapiosexual, or perhaps with what you do to me; I’m not used to those things.” She made that face as if debating to say how she was really feeling. He saw that often at dinner as she gave him what she wanted him to know. 

Hearing her express her attraction to him touched parts of himself he was unfamiliar with. It was similar to that night when they first met. 

Tearing his eyes from her and trying to focus on something else to stall his arousal, El said, “Well, it’s certainly not my looks.”

This statement made her step to him cautiously. “Why would you say that?” she questioned.

El noticed that she had moved towards him, and a strange throbbing in his chest jolted him strangely. Now he knew she was playing games because why would she ask that? “I know I’m not your type.”

A smile curled her beautiful lips. “How would you know what my type was when I don’t even know my type, El?”

Could he have found a woman not focused on skin type? For most of his life, he’d accepted he wasn’t dark enough to be black but not light enough to be white. Women on both sides of the aisle shunned him, and men criticized him because he couldn’t pass a paperbag test. With money, intelligence, and power, he found himself able to be in a position where people looked past his mulato skin. Yet, this woman, with her dark, delicious skin, delectable juices, and sexy intelligence, was looking past his physical appearance to much more.

Or she could be still trying to coerce him to use sex to pay off her debt and control him? — Just like most other women.

El wanted to throw all his apprehensions to the wind and give in to his desires with Iris.

“Remove your outer clothes,” he ordered.

***

His eyes intently perused her clothed body, and he did not attempt to remove anything from his body.

Straightening her spine while she pulled in her confidence, Iris removed the blouse and the skirt, allowing the clothes to drop to her feet but not taking her eyes off his face to watch him look at her. 

His eyes moved to her new pair of underwear, and El blinked several times before he asked, “Do you usually carry extra pairs of underwear?”

“I knew we were having dinner and brought an extra pair. I didn’t expect to gift my initial pair to my boss.”

He shifted himself again while crossing his arms over his chest. “Will you give me those before the night is over?”

Iris blushed and nodded. “Yes, El, you may have those too.” Although at this rate, he was going to take all her good panties. And with all that shifting he was doing, she was wondering about what was in his underwear and if tonight would be a night she would see something. 

The girth was nice from what she felt, but she bet feeling him would be ten times better.

His warm voice broke through her indecent thoughts as he ordered, “Can you turn around?”

The request was odd, but she was curious about his motives. 

Giving him her back, she could hear him remove an item of clothing but couldn’t determine which it was. His suit jacket? His pants? She wanted to watch him undress and adore how he would meticulously take his time as he neatly removed each piece of clothing and lay it on the chair. Her eyes yearned to lay eyes on his manhood. 

Preoccupied by the fantasy, Iris didn’t hear him move behind her until she felt his large hands resting on her hips. She trembled, startled but relaxed, feeling his breath on her back. Remembering the last time he’d ordered her to breathe with him, she took that instruction now while paying attention as his hands moved to her shoulders and down her arms. His breath was close, which meant his nose was closer, and she could almost feel the tip moved over her shoulders and down her back.

Of course, she knew she had washed in those places, but she wondered what she was smelling for. When El moved down to her coccyx, he moved even slower. His hands first spread over her tailbone and then his nose. Those flutters in her stomach were getting rambunctious as she loved how his hands firmly rested on her hips while his face ventured over each of her buttocks, and then he ascended through the middle, all the way up her spine to her nape and then around to each ear. 

Why did this feel so erotic? She wondered.

He used her hips to guide her to turn around to him, and when she looked up at him, that wry smirk graced his lips. Whatever he had encountered, he was satisfied, and she wished she could put his smile on the reviews for all her products because it just made her whole body tingle. 

“Don’t I have a wish?” she inquired. 

El narrowed his eyes and almost looked hesitant as if he were about to deny what he’d promised her. “Now you want that wish?” he asked warily.

“It’s no time like now for what I desire. Isn’t that what you said? Whatever my heart desires?”

The frown on his face increased. Was he worried about what she would ask him for? 

“I want to touch you like you touched me,” she said.

Skeptical, he pointed out, “You don’t have to.”

“I know, but I want to because I’ve never done that, and I want to know how it feels.”

“You could ask me for anything, Iris, which includes releasing you from your debt, but you choose to use your only wish just to touch me?”

“I could have used it to get out of my debt?” she questioned. 

He blinked several times before answering, “You could have asked, but I would have said no. Are you sure you want to use your only wish on this?”

Determinedly, Iris said, “Yes, El.” 

He started to turn around and unbutton his shirt. 

“No,” she protested quietly, moving around and holding his hands. “I want to”

He looked down where she touched his hands, slightly confused. His hands covered hers, holding her tightly.”Iris, are you sure this is what you want?”

Looking up in his eyes, she felt a vulnerability. Was there something under his clothes he didn’t want her to see? 

Remembering all the other times he’d aroused her, she recalled how he never made any attempt to remove any clothes. “Yes,” she said. “This is what I want, El.”

El removed his hands and allowed her to start unbuttoning his shirt. She waited for something terrible to show, but all she saw was smooth, very light brown skin. His natural tan showed his multicultural ethnicity. 

The muscles on his chest were tight and well-defined, and when she pushed his jacket and shirt off his shoulders, she gasped at the broadness. What she thought were shoulder pads were not. All that was him, and he had thick arms to show her there was a powerful strength there that could probably deadlift her and a little bit more. This was a man who could probably hold a rifle for a very long time until he got the perfect shot. 

She loved knowing that about him. Once he was free of his shirt and jacket, Iris walked the items over to the chair like he had his tie and neatly folded them before laying them over the back of the furniture. 

When she returned to him, Iris could see him intensely staring but not to admire her. He was watching her reaction, and she smiled. 

“Are you going to turn around?” she asked. “Or do I have to go around?”

“You can barely reach my shoulders,” he said. 

“I got tiptoes,” she said, showcasing how high she could get on the tip of her toes.

After blinking several times again, El looked down at her feet and then up at her as if she had lost her mind. “Does it have to be my back?”

“Is something back there I shouldn’t see?” 

“No,” he answered as if it were ridiculous to ask.

“Then it’s your back like you did mine.”

His face showed full reluctance, but his body started to turn slowly until his back was to hers. He was right; there wasn’t anything on there except muscles. The man was bursting with upper body strength, and she could just imagine what he could do to her with all his power.

A fearful, warm chill shuddered down her spine.

“Are you going to touch me?” he asked anxiously.

Iris had forgotten what she was back there for and noted how he was trying not to fidget. 

Was touching his kryptonite? Or perhaps El wasn’t used to a woman wanting to touch him. He was a man who was always in a position of power, but with her request, this left him vulnerable. 

A force unlike any other enveloped her, and she smiled wickedly, loving what she could do to him and how he had to bend to her will.

A new kink inside of her had been unlocked! 

End of This Chapter | Post your thoughts in the comment | Let the author know what’s going on in your head

Let Me Love You (c) 2024 Sylvia Hubbard All Rights Reserved

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual person, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
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