"No, we can’t..."
Iris Yates pushed him, instinctively refusing. "You already wore me out once today. I need to rest."
William Quinn, however, held her close, kissing her and murmuring, "But baby, I’m in agony. Touch me. Don’t you feel how hot I am? If I hold it in and get hurt, what will you do? Who’s going to bring my baby pleasure?"
Iris Yates: "..."
’Shameless!’
’So utterly shameless!’
’This was a kind of pleasure she didn’t want in the slightest!’
He grabbed her hand, forcefully pulling it to the hottest place, making her touch the volcanic magma. A sigh immediately escaped his throat, a sound of relief, as if his searing heat was being doused by cool rain.
Iris Yates’s fingers trembled violently. She tried to pull her hand back, but he kept it pressed down, guiding her hand through motions that filled her with immense shame.
Their breaths tangled together as he called her "baby" again and again, as if trying to melt her icy heart.
After an unknown amount of time, the clean, bright mirror was spattered with stains. Iris Yates didn’t dare to look as he carried her out of the walk-in closet.
"My baby, you look so beautiful in a cheongsam. From now on, wear one every day, okay?"
William Quinn carried her to the bathroom first. He meticulously washed her fingers, cleaning every crevice, while continuing to press his demands.
Iris Yates’s face was flushed, her expression resistant, and a flicker of fear glinted in her eyes.
"It’s not comfortable to wear."
"But you look so good in it."
William Quinn insisted, kissing and coaxing her. "Wear it, please wear it. It’s so beautiful. You’re the most beautiful Eastern baby I’ve ever seen."
Iris Yates found herself completely unable to refuse.

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