I sweep her into my arms and carry her up the stairs, my heart thundering in my chest, my blood running hot. Fear still has its grip on me over what I could’ve lost. She almost ran out the door. She almost fucking left me wearing nothing but my shirt. What the hell? How could I mess up what we have so badly? With just a few stupid words?
Words have never meant so much as they do right now between us. One wrong thing said could send everything crumbling down. I can’t afford that. Not yet. The end is coming, I’m sure of it—but not yet. I need to hold onto her as long as I can.
Alexandria loops her arms around my neck, her cheek resting on my shoulder. I hold her close, the both of us naked save for my shirt she’s wearing, though she never got a chance to button it. I can see every pretty inch of her and I would stare but I’m afraid I’ll trip on the stairs and hurt her. She’s so damn beautiful.
Mine.
My chest is tight and I swallow hard, thinking back over what we said. I was a total dick. No surprise. She was mean too. I started it with the label crap. She continued it by labeling me, quite accurately. Then she had to go and cry.
Her tears just about broke me. The last thing I ever want to see is my girl crying—over something I did. My heart cracked at witnessing those tears fill her eyes and slide down her cheeks. I meant what I said, that I’m not worth her crying over me. It’s true.
I also meant what I said when I told her I care about her. That’s true too. If she’d pushed for more I probably would’ve said something awful and ruined the moment. It’s best that I keep my lips shut.
And show her how much she means to me instead.
Nudging the bedroom door open with my foot, I stride inside and deposit her carefully so that she sits on the edge of the bed. She stares up at me, her hair falling down her back in golden waves, her eyes luminous as she watches me. I touch her cheek and lean in, kissing her. Putting all of my fear and worry into that one kiss, my lips hard, my tongue searching, both hands now cradling her face. She tips her head back and grabs hold of me, pulling me down so I fall on top of her. I brace my hands on the mattress, on either side of her head, never letting my mouth leave hers.
There’s no time for lingering, no time for teasing either. I need to be inside her. Now. I make my way up the mattress, taking her with me, my arm around her waist as I lift her. She has her arms around my neck, her mouth on my throat, whispering a bunch of nonsense like she usually does.
I eat up every one of those nonsensical words. Like she’s so overcome with wanting me she can’t speak coherently. I know the feeling. I’m a talker. I know just what to say in any situation. But with Alexandria, I’m moving through unchartered territory and managing to fuck up spectacularly most of the time.
It sucks.
I reach for the condom on my bedside table and rear up on my knees, tearing into the wrapper and sliding the condom on. Alexandria tears off my shirt and then sprawls in front of me, spreading her legs, offering me a glimpse of heaven, otherwise known as her perfect pussy.
Fuck, I’ve turned into the corniest bastard on the planet.
“Hurry,” she whispers, rubbing her foot against my thigh. “I want you inside me.”
My hands tremble as I roll the condom the rest of the way on. I’m hard as a rock. I was inside her not even an hour ago and I’m already so overwhelmed with my need for her I can hardly see straight. She sinks her teeth into her lower lip, runs her hands along her sides, across her stomach, then back up to cup her breasts.
Ah, fuck. That’s hot as hell, watching her touch herself. Maybe I can wait to get inside her…
“Keep doing that,” I tell her with a nod when she stops. Big eyes meet mine. “Touch yourself. I wanna watch.”
She hesitates, her hands still cupped around her breasts. I get a tiny glimpse, just a tease of a touch when she drifts her thumbs across her hard nipples. “Like this?” she asks, her voice shaky.
“Exactly like that,” I encourage.
Her hands slide down, across her stomach, over her hips. She spreads her legs wider, letting me see everything she’s got and I choke out a groan when she rests her hand over her pubic hair.
“Show me what you do when you’re all alone,” I whisper, my voice raw, my thoughts wild.
“I don’t kn—”
“Please,” I interrupt, making her frown. Fuck, why is she frowning? I want her happy. I want her hot for it. Hot for me.
A shuddery breath escapes her as she slides her hand down, fully covering her pussy. She remains still, closing her eyes, taking a deep breath so her chest rises, holds there for a moment before she exhales. Gathering up all her courage to prepare for what she’s about to do next.
I wait in barely contained anticipation.
Slowly, she curls her fingers in until only her index finger is extended, and she begins to search. To tease. She runs her finger up and down, through her folds, over her clit, then back down to—aw, fuck—plunge it inside her body. She does it again. And again. The same pattern. Search, circle clit, insert, pull out, then start all over.
I’m fascinated. I can’t tear my eyes away from the spot where she’s touching herself. She gives up on the pattern and focuses on her clit, rubbing it, her eyes opening to check if I’m still watching her.
Fuck yeah, I am. I can’t stop.
“Is this really what you do when you’re alone?” I ask, surprised I can actually string words into a complete sentence. My cock feels like it’s going to explode and I tear off the condom, wanting to stroke myself uninhibited.
Her gaze drops to my hand on my dick, those pretty eyes glazing over with lust. “Sometimes.”
My imagination just filled up with all sorts of possibilities. “What else do you do?”
“Promise you won’t laugh?” Her gaze still hasn’t strayed from my hand stroking my cock.
“I would never laugh at you, angel. I hope you realize that.” I bite off a groan when she licks her lips. What I would give to have that mouth on me.
“Sometimes I use…a vibrator.”
My hand goes still. “You have one?”
She nods. “I got it as a gag gift a few years ago.”
“And you use it.”
“Well…yeah.” Her cheeks go pink.
“And you like it.”
A silent nod is my answer.
“Is it a big one or one of those tiny bullet looking things?” I’ve never used one on a girl in my life. But I have watched the entire Sex and the City series so I think I’m fairly well versed in vibrators, dildos and other various sex toys. “Don’t tell me you got a rabbit vibrator.”
“No!” Her face is on fire now. “I can’t believe we’re having this conversation.”
“Baby, you are the only woman I want to have this conversation with.” And that is the damn truth. I can’t imagine talking about vibrators with anyone else. That we can pause in what we were doing—and it was pretty fucking hot—to start joking around about vibrators. I love that about us.
“When was the last time you used your vibrator?” I ask when she doesn’t say anything.
“It’s been weeks,” she admits.
“Did you use it after we met?”
A reluctant nod.
“Did you use it and think of me?”
No response at all.
I let go of my cock and reach out to place my hand over hers, the heat from her pussy warming my skin. “Did you, Ali?”
She sighs. “Fine. Yes. I did.”
Grinning, I remove her hand and replace it with my own, letting my fingers sink into her warm, wet depths. “What did you think about?”
“The night you kissed me in my room and Steven interrupted us,” she confesses. “I imagined what would’ve happened if he never knocked on my door.”
“Oh, I can tell you exactly what would’ve happened.” It’s my turn to search her folds, to insert my index finger inside her body, then add another finger. She moans when I start to fuck her, her hips moving, her eyes falling shut. She’s so fucking responsive.
“Tell me,” she whispers.
His thick fingers move in and out of my body and oh my God, I’m close to coming already. Making me forget all the shitty things he said, which is a good thing. A very good thing.
Now I can concentrate on how good he makes me feel.
“We would’ve kissed for a long time,” he murmurs, removing his fingers from my body so he can readjust his position. I immediately miss their presence but tell myself we have the rest of the night. He’s always good for a couple of orgasms.
Always.
He lies next to me, nestled up close, his hand returning to my pussy, his thumb rubbing my clit. “Kissing is what we do best, don’t you think?” he asks.
To prove his point, he takes my mouth in a tongue filled, passionate kiss that ends much too soon. But at least he keeps talking.
“I would’ve slowly taken off your clothes and discovered you wear the sexiest underwear I’ve ever seen. After getting myself under control, I would stroke you everywhere, get you nice and wet for me.”
I grow wetter just hearing him say that.
“I’d suck your nipples deep into my mouth all while I was fingering your pussy until you were squirming and begging for more.”
I start to squirm when he sucks one of my nipples into his mouth. His words, his actions are making me hot. And wet. His thumb slides around my clit with ease and that sweet, familiar ache starts to build. I sink my hands into his hair, holding him close.
“That would’ve been the first time you pushed your fingers into my hair because I’ve noticed you do that a lot. Pull on it too,” he observes, his mouth moving against my breast, his breath hot as it blows across my sensitive nipple. “I don’t mind though. I actually like it.”
I give his hair a tug for good measure.
“I probably would’ve gone down on you. And found out you have the sweetest pussy in the world. Nothing has ever tasted better.”
“Please,” I mumble sarcastically, because I can’t help myself. He has to be kidding.
“I’m serious.” He slides his fingers between my legs, touching every sensitive inch, then brings them up to his mouth, sucking them deep. “Fucking delicious,” he says when he pulls his fingers out.
A shaky breath leaves me when I see the way his lips shine from my juices. Oh, and then he licks them. My belly flutters. Maybe some girls get squicked out by that sort of thing but not me. Everything Tristan does is a turn on.
“What next?” I encourage him.
He smiles. “Because I’m a man, I would’ve somehow got those perfect, pink lips of yours wrapped around my dick, and you would’ve loved it.”
I smile in return. “I do like sucking your cock.”
His smile fades, replaced with a dark, hungry look that makes my body tighten with anticipation. He looks like he wants to jump me. “Woman, you can’t say things like that to me without getting a reaction.”
“What sort of reaction?” I ask innocently.
“Hand me another condom and you’ll see.”
I grab one of the many condoms that lie scattered on top of his bedside table and give it to him, watching with fascination as he gets on his knees and rolls it on. I love watching him do this. His brows furrowed in concentration, his lip caught between his teeth, his fingers brushing over the head of his cock and making it sway. He rolls that condom on and always gives it a good tug, stroking himself once. Twice. Then he’s good. He’s ready.
It’s the hottest thing ever.
“You ready for the big D?” he asks once the condom is securely in place. He’s grinning again, his expression so adorable despite what he just said. I’m sure he’s waiting for me to say something equally ridiculous.
I sit up and move toward him, his grin slipping as he falls back on his perfect ass and I crawl into his lap. His cock rises between us and I grab hold of his shoulders, wrapping my legs around his middle and positioning myself perfectly so I can sink down onto him.
“I always want the big D,” I tell him, smiling as I lower myself onto his thick cock, taking him inch by inch, my body yielding to his invasion until he’s buried deep.
Big. Throbbing. Filling me right up.
“Damn, Ali.” He leans forward, pressing his forehead against mine. I wiggle my hips and he winces. I start to lift up and he braces his hands on my hips, keeping me in place. “Just—don’t fucking move.”
“But isn’t that the whole point of fucking?” I wiggle again, feel him go even deeper and we both groan in unison.
“I’m gonna come and fast, if you keep that up.” He exhales loudly, sounding tortured. “And that’s the last thing I want to do.”
Me too. I want this to last, not be over before it’s done.
“Take it slow, baby,” he urges and I do, letting him guide me, his hands still on my hips as I lift up and sink down on him. The drag and pull of our connected bodies feels so incredibly good I can hardly stand it. I close my eyes, losing myself to the sensation of his cock pushing deep inside my body.
It’s like he completely owns me. I’m possessed by all things Tristan. His big body surrounds me, his large hands on my hips, my legs wound around him, our bodies so close we’re sharing the same air. I glance down, my hair falling forward as I watch his cock disappear inside my body and then reappear, thick and long and slick with my juices.
I swear I just had a mini orgasm.
“Fuck me, you feel so damn good,” he whispers just before his mouth is on mine. The kiss is dirty. Wicked. Wonderful. Tongues and lips, moans and whispers, our bodies growing slick with sweat, the tightening in my belly building.
He breaks the kiss to rain kisses along my jaw, down my neck. Soft, sucking kisses involving his tongue. His teeth. I clutch him closer, riding him hard, his hands moving to grip my ass and hold me still as he pounds inside of me. Hitting all the right spots, one in particular that has me clutching him close, my mouth on his shoulder. It opens on a silent scream as he rams into me, until I’m falling apart, my belly trembling, my inner walls clenching and releasing as I come. His name falls from my lips and other unintelligible words, something I always seem to do when I’m overcome. Or coming.
And then he’s coming too, right behind me, his body trembling, his muscles tensing just before they go lax. A shout leaves him and he squeezes me tight, his cock deep, his hold firm, possessive.
It feels like a claiming.
The man who doesn’t want to put labels on us, who’s determined to ruin what we have before it naturally falls apart, is claiming me. Possessing me. His mouth is on my skin, his cock in my body, his hands everywhere, demanding my surrender.
And I give it to him.
Willingly.