Tristan takes my hand from his cheek and kisses it, just before he yanks me close and devours me. There’s no other word to describe how he’s kissing me. It’s all consuming, his lips sealed over mine, his hand cradling the back of my head as his tongue explores my mouth. I kiss him back just as feverishly, desperation clawing at my insides as I whimper low in my throat. Our tongues thrust against each other in a heated rhythm, over and under. Under and over. Again and again.
I break the kiss first to catch a breath and his hands are everywhere, all at once. Sliding over my body, along my sides, dipping beneath the hem of my sweater to touch my stomach. His fingers are like a brand. Scalding hot, yet making me shiver, my heart race, my head spin.
“This needs to go,” he murmurs, tugging on my sweater before he dives in for my neck, sucking the sensitive skin there just before he nibbles it. I close my eyes, my senses bombarded with all things Tristan. His hands skim up, stopping just below my breasts, his thumbs coasting up. Along the lace trimmed cup of my bra, then touching my bare skin. I suck in a breath, goose bumps rising and I feel him smile against my neck before he lifts his head.
“What are you hiding underneath here?” The little half-smile teasing his lips makes my heart flutter. He is so incredibly beautiful. Just looking at him sets my head spinning. Having his hands on me while I’m looking at him?
I’m surprised I’m still standing.
“Take off my sweater and you’ll see,” I tease, my voice this throaty dare I’ve never heard before. I sound like a total sexpot.
Clearly Tristan likes it from the heat that’s flaring in his gaze. He grabs the hem of my sweater and slowly pulls it up, his teeth sinking into his lower lip the last thing I see as he tugs the sweater up and over my head, sending it flying across the room.
“Jesus,” he breathes, his gaze locked on my chest. I don’t have much. If a guy is attracted to me physically, it’s not because of my stellar rack. Sometimes I think that the lingerie collection was a way for me to compensate where I lack by wearing expensive, beautiful bras and panties. “That bra is like…the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”
Well. I’m guessing he’s seen a lot of bras so I’m surprised.
He touches me carefully, like I might not be real as he settles those big hands at my waist and slides them up, over my ribcage, until they rest just beneath my bra. He cups me, tests my miniscule weight, can probably feel the padding that lines my bra but I don’t care.
I’m savoring this, the way stares at me, his gaze full of want.
Need.
A shuddering sigh escapes when his fingers play over the tops of my breasts, trace the delicate lace, smoothing over the silky black and white polka dotted cups. My nipples harden and my breasts are heavy, the bra suddenly feeling like a constraint.
“Did you wear this for me?” His smoky voice sends a shiver down my spine.
“Do you like it?”
“I fucking love it,” he says without hesitation as he watches his hands play with my breasts. “I can’t stop looking at you.”
I step closer to him, rest my hands on his shoulders and whisper next to his ear, “The top matches the bottom.”
“So you did wear this for me.” His hands immediately go to the waistband of my jeans, his fingers fumbling with the snap. “Take ‘em off,” he demands.
“You take them off.” I pull away from his searching hands and go to the bed, a shocked huff of laughter escaping when he slips his arms around me from behind, pushing my hair away from my neck so he can kiss me there. His mouth lingers, his teeth nibble and I shiver, trying to shy away.
“Didn’t know you were such a tease,” he murmurs, his fingers back at the snap of my jeans. I slap his hands away and turn within his embrace to face him, loving the heated glow in his brilliant blue gaze. “Those jeans need to come off, Alexandria.”
“I know.” I reach for the hem of his shirt and pull on it a little. “But turnabout is fair play or whatever the heck that means.”
Chuckling, he lets go of me and reaches behind his neck, tugging his shirt off with one pull. I suck in a breath at the chest that’s revealed, my gaze bouncing, unable to stay in one spot. He’s beautiful everywhere, a work of art with defined pecs, a flat stomach and a light smattering of hair in the center of his chest. No intimidating washboard abs but he does have a golden brown trail that starts just below his navel and disappears just beneath the waistband of his jeans.
I wanna see where that trail of hair leads to.
“Wow,” I whisper and he chuckles again.
“That’s exactly how I felt when I first saw you,” he murmurs, cupping my cheeks with his hands before he leans in and kisses me.
I forget everything when his mouth is on mine. All I can concentrate on is the way he makes me feel. How my body reacts to his touch, his taste, his words. He whispers that I’m beautiful and butterflies erupt in my stomach. He reaches for the front of my jeans, slides his fingers down inside of them until he’s touching the lacy top of my panties and I’m instantly wet. And when my hands finally make contact with the warm, hard wall of his chest, my knees wobble. I can’t form words, I can’t think, all I can do is run my hands all over my skin like I’m trying to memorize it for later.
Somehow we end up on the bed in a tangled heap. His hand goes to my back and undoes my bra snap expertly, the cups springing free, revealing my lacking chest. He pulls the bra straps from my shoulders, down my arms before he tosses it on the side of the bed. Self-consciousness rears its ugly head and I pull away from him, my arms immediately coming up to cover my chest.
“Hey, hey, what happened to my teasing little angel?” His smiling face is hovering above mine, his gaze zeroed in on my face. He gently pries my arms away from my chest, his fingers brushing against my breasts and I suck in a breath. “Let me see you.”
My arms fall to my sides and I lay there like a virgin sacrifice. Eyes tightly closed, body tense, limbs trembling as I wait for his assessment. I don’t know why I’m so nervous. Not thirty seconds ago I was teasing him and laughing and now I act like he’s going to take one look at my boobs and jam. I’m being ridiculous. I know it.
But I can’t help it.
“So pretty,” he says reverently. I crack open my eyes to find him watching me with a bemused expression on his face. Well, bemused tempered with arousal because he also looks like he wants to jump me. “Relax. You’re too tense.”
He then proceeds to relieve the tension with his mouth on my breasts, blazing a trail of damp heat all over my skin, racing over me in a rush of fevered lips and tongue. One hand cups a breast while he sucks the other nipple in his mouth, lashing his tongue over my aching, pebbled flesh. I curl my hands into his hair, holding him close, arching into his mouth. I’m reckless with need, wrapping my legs around his, realizing that I have my stupid boots on and I pull on his hair tight, making him lift his head.
“What?” He sounds irritated, like I interrupted him and that almost makes me smile. His lips are swollen and damp, his eyes hazy with lust and his hair in complete disarray.
It’s a fucking great look on him.
“My boots.” I run my booted foot over the back of his jean-clad calf. “Can you help me take them off?”
The grin he flashes me is nothing short of lecherous. “I’ll help you take everything off.” He pushes away from me, going to stand at the foot of the bed so he can unzip first one boot, then the other.
“Perv,” I tease.
“You like it,” he tosses back as he yanks off my left boot and lets it drop to the floor, doing the same with the right one. Then he’s tugging at my jeans, commanding me to undo them and I draw down the zipper with shaky fingers. Blowing out a shaky breath when he practically rips my jeans off my body, I feel exposed.
His gaze burns as it runs the length of my legs, settling on my panties. “Fucking hell,” he groans, shaking his head. “You are like my every wet dream come to life.”
I frown. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”
“Baby, that is one of the highest compliments I could ever give a girl. Do you know how much I’ve fantasized about you looking exactly like this? Lying in the middle of my bed in just a pair of panties and nothing else? Jesus. It’s almost too much.”
“So all that talk of you fantasizing about me is true?” I thought maybe he was repeating lines from SATC and nothing else. Well, I was hopeful, but why would I star in Tristan Prescott’s wicked dreams?
“Oh, you reside in my deepest, darkest fantasies, Alexandria.” His voice is full of dirty, delicious promise. Anticipation skates in my veins and I know whatever’s going to happen next, I’m bound to enjoy it.
She is literally splayed out across my bed like she was made just for me. Ready for me. Only me. Wearing a pair of thin black panties and nothing else, those long, long legs slide against each other. She looks restless, maybe a little uneasy and I wonder if she’s nervous. I don’t want her feeling that way. It’s going to be good between us.
I know it.
Anticipation hums in my veins and I reach for her foot, lifting up her leg and smoothing my fingers along her calf, tickling behind her knee.
“Stop,” she says as she tries to jerk out of my grip but I only hold on tighter. A frustrated giggle leaves her when I tickle her again. “I’m ticklish.”
I decide to go easy on her but I’ll remember that for later.
Dropping her foot, I reach for her waist with both hands, pulling her to the edge of the mattress until her feet land on the floor. She props herself up on her elbows, gasping when I kneel in front of her. Her eyes are luminous as she watches me.
“What are you doing?” she asks shakily.
My hands still on her waist, I lean over and drop a kiss on the flat plane of her stomach. “Kissing you.” Hmm, and I could go on kissing her forever, I swear. Her skin is soft and smooth, smelling faintly of flowers and a hint of spice. I kiss her again, around her navel, below it. I can smell her, the scent of her arousal strong and I swear she’s hot for me. As in, heat is radiating from between her legs.
I want to explore every inch of that heat with my fingers and tongue.
She squeezes her thighs together as I kiss along the lacy top of her panties, her skin quivering beneath my lips, her knees knocking into my chest. I’m in the mood to tease. This will be a surefire form of torture for the both of us, but I can withstand it. I want to drive Alexandria out of her mind. I want to witness her falling apart.
And I want her to remember that I’m the one who makes her feel this way.
Curling my fingers around either side of her panties, I tug them down a little, just enough to expose her hipbones, that soft, secret spot just above her pubic hair. I press my mouth against her, breathing her in, closing my eyes as I leave slow, open-mouthed kisses on her skin. I consider pulling her panties completely off but decide against it for now.
“Spread your legs, angel,” I whisper as I pull back, place my hands on the inside of her thighs and slowly push them open. She doesn’t fight it, merely goes along with my wishes and I sit back on my haunches, taking in the view. The front of her panties are wet, her thighs are shaking and I kiss the inside of one thigh, then the other, drawing closer, closer…
Until I’m right where I want to be, pressing my mouth on that damp spot that’s been taunting me.
“Oh, God,” she moans so I do it again. And again. Her panties are so thin I can practically taste her. I tease the spot with my tongue, pressing hard, harder, soaking her underwear, the musky taste of her filling my mouth. Fuck, she tastes amazing, so amazing my cock twitches behind my fly, desperate to break free. I close my eyes for a second, trying to grasp onto my fading control.
But I can’t take it. My patience has left me now that I know what she tastes like. I want more.
Pushing her panties to the side, I run my fingers down her slit, sinking two of my fingers inside her, watching intently as I push them in, then pull them out. She’s hot. Wet. Coating my fingers so that they glisten. My heart races like fucking crazy as I pull my fingers out of her grasping body and trace her folds gently. Just a ghost of a touch on her pretty pink flesh, it’s hard for me to tear my gaze away from her pussy when I also want to watch her face as I play with her like this for the first time.
“Ali,” I whisper and she opens her eyes, her gaze meeting mine. I like my nickname for her. It’s sweet and intimate, just for me. “You’re so fucking wet.” Christ, she’s beyond wet. “Does this feel good?”
“S-so good,” she chokes out, her voice strangled. Her head falls back against the mattress with a thump and she slings her arm over her eyes. “Please don’t stop,” she mumbles.
Like I could.
Fueled on by her request, I skim her folds with just my fingertips, circling around the hooded flesh that covers her clit. I rub my thumb across it, press harder, pull back the tiny bit of skin so her clit protrudes and I lean in, flicking it with my tongue, teasing it, wrapping my lips around it. Her gasping breaths encourage me and I’m greedy, hungry for more. I draw as much of her as I can into my mouth,
She tastes like heaven.
Her hips lift and she thrusts her pussy more firmly against my face and I grab hold of her waist with one hand, holding her there. I slip my finger deep inside her, making her moan as I continue to suck and lick her clit, her entire pussy. Up and down, over and over, making sure no spot is left uncovered. She’s making these hitching, whimpering noises low in her throat and I add another finger, thrusting them deep, desperate to get her off, make her come apart.
Usually with a girl, it’s all about—me. Yes, I’m an asshole. I’ve never denied that. I don’t leave them unsatisfied. But I rarely go down on them. I’m the selfish prick who never turns down a blowjob but forget eating pussy. That’s only on special occasions and even then, it was more about getting a girl wet before I fucked her.
That I’m thinking of other girls is so unappealing right now that I shove the thoughts aside, refocusing on this trembling, beautiful girl before me who’s somehow found it in her heart to let me do this to her.
I’m a lucky bastard.
With fumbling hands I somehow manage to peel her panties off, leaving them in a rolled up ball on the floor before I resume my attack. With a hum of pleasure against her flesh I lick and suck and thrust, her inner walls flexing around my fingers as I fuck her with them. Her thighs tighten around my head like a goddamn vise and I let her. Her fingers slide into my hair and I wince when she pulls it but that’s fine. She needs something to hold onto. Her hips buck, she arches her back, my name falling from my lips in this choked gasp and I know she’s close. She’s gotta be so fucking close…
Her body stiffens beneath my mouth just before it begins to shake and shudder, her orgasm sweeping over her. A gush of wetness flows from her pussy and I suck on her clit, my fingers embedded in her body as she comes. I keep my eyes open, wanting to witness this, the moment when she falls completely apart by my hands.
Well, by my lips and tongue too.
She’s writhing beneath my mouth, her hand falling away from my hair as she arches back her head, exposing that pretty neck I love to kiss. I remove my mouth from her, dropping a kiss on top of her pussy once. Again. Slip my fingers from her still clenching body, kiss her once more and her hand is suddenly in my face, pushing me away.
“Stop. God, it’s too much,” she whimpers.
I shift up so I’m lying beside her, my hand on her cheek, turning her to face me so I can kiss her. Drown in her. She sucks on my tongue as she practically tries to climb all over my body and I roll over on my back, taking her with me.
“That was so good,” she murmurs as she rises above me, her hands braced on my chest, her hair falling down around her face. Her skin glows, her eyes shine as she smiles down at me and I know I’ve never seen a prettier sight. She’s completely naked, I can feel her hot pussy against my denim-covered dick, which feels like it’s being strangled by my jeans. I grab hold of her hips, run my hands over her ass and tug her closer, let her feel what she’s doing to me. I swear her eyes practically roll back in her head and she grinds down on me, just to make me fucking crazy, I’m sure.
“You like that?” I ask, sounding like an arrogant bastard but I don’t give a shit. I just made her come. I’ve been dying to do that since the first night I saw her. From the very first moment I caught sight of her in that angel costume, I wanted her. Purely physical at that point, now it’s turned into…
Something more. I like this girl. And I never like any girls.
“Yes.” She stretches above me, her hands in her hair as she holds it away from her neck, her back arched so she’s thrusting her tits toward me. Unable to resist I rear up, draw one perfect pink nipple into my mouth and suck. Her hands fall from her hair and land on my shoulders, pulling me in close. “Oh God, your mouth.”
“What about it?” I murmur against her flesh before I pull it between my lips again.
“You know just what to do with it.” She rubs against me, her wet pussy getting all over my jeans but I don’t care. Fuck, I want her to rub that sexy body all over me, to the point where all I can see and smell is her. “Are you my own Mr. Pussy?”
Another Sex and the City reference. I couldn’t help myself earlier when I started quoting from the show. The way we were acting reminded me of that particular episode, which I’d watched only a few days ago. There is so much a guy can learn from that show.
“Do you want your very own personal Mr. Pussy?” I kiss her all over her chest, her collarbone, the valley between her breasts. They’re small, barely a handful, with rosy pink nipples that seem to like my attention. “You just want me to eat you out all day and night?”
A full body shudder is my physical answer. “I can’t say no.”
Chuckling, l tilt my head back to smile up at her. “That relationship was doomed from the start. All she wanted was him going downtown on her.”
Alexandria runs a hand over my head, her fingers sinking into my hair. Her expression is soft, her eyes glowing, her hair a complete mess around her head. She looks like a very well satisfied woman. “Hmm, well I definitely like you for more than just your oral skills.”
My brows go up. “Really?” I should not feel happy that she just said that, right? It’s no big deal, what we’ve got going on. This is just fun and games. Yeah, I like her. Yeah, she feels…special, which makes me uneasy just thinking it. But what more can there be? A few months of fucking and then what?
I don’t know.
“I do appreciate your going downtown efforts.” She smiles. “Despite everything you’ve said and done, I like you, Tristan.”
“Despite everything I’ve said and done?” What the hell is she talking about?
“You’re awful.” She kisses me. “You say the worst things ever.” Another kiss, this one a little longer. “You’ve done your best to push me away, yet you always come back for more.” The next kiss involves a slip of the tongue, a nibble on my lower lip. “You’re funny. You’re sweet. And you quote Sex and the City.” Another sweet, too brief kiss. “I think I’ll keep you around.”
“Don’t forget that I make you chant my name when you’re coming,” I point out.
She nudges my shoulder, her lips quirked in a barely contained smile. “Shut up. I did not.”
“You so did.” I sneak my hand up into her hair at the back of her head and pull her down so our mouths meet again. “You said it over and over,” I murmur, my voice low. I need to somehow get inside her, find relief, something. I feel like I’m about to blow and I refuse to come in my jeans like some inexperienced kid.
“No,” she whispers against my lips as I kiss her. “I don’t believe you.”
“I can show you again if you want.” The kiss deepens and I roll her over so she’s beneath me. “Make you come.” I thrust my hips against hers, a slow roll that has her moaning low in her throat. “Drive you wild. Just so I can prove that I can make you say my name.”
“Sounds like a plan,” she pants, her hands reaching for me.