“Say it,” I rasp. “Tell me you want this.”
“Yes.” The word shakes, but it’s sharp. “I want you.”
“Rules,” I manage, because I have to hear them. “Say stop, and I’ll stop. Saywaterfallif you need me to pull you out of your head.”
Her mouth curves. “I won’t need it.” A beat of silence passes before she says softly, “But I like that you asked.”
Lightning forks across the sky. She reaches up, taps the edge of the mask. “Leave it on.”
“Whatever you want, wild honey.”
I crowd closer. Her spine presses to the post; my body fits to hers like it’s always been meant to. I lift the mask only enough to brush my mouth against her throat, turning her breath ragged. She tilts her head, offering more.
My hand spans her hip, guiding, claiming, not rushing. Not yet. I want the tremble. I like the way her fingers tighten like she’s falling and choosing it.
“Tristan,” she whispers, and my name in her voice is a fuse.
“Here?” I ask against her skin. “Or make me carry you to the press house?”
“Here,” she breathes. “Now.”
I lift the mask onto my head, letting it shield our faces as raindrops fall. My lips find hers—hard, hungry, grateful—andshe answers with a heat that steals everything I thought control meant. Kisses turn deeper; the night tilts.
Clothes become a problem we solve by instinct—buttons fumbled, fabric dragged, skin found. She arches, a desperate sound catching in her throat when my hands map the lines I’ve been starving for. I murmur against her ear, telling her what I want, what I’ll give, the kind of promises that turn her shiver into a plea.
“Please,” she says, and it undoes me.
My lips trace over soft skin smelling of wild honey and rain. Her lips part when I suck her nipple into my mouth, then gently bite down. She moans and arches, one hand on my shoulder, the other holding the mask on top of my head.
With a growl, I spread her legs, then drop to my knees to feast on her. She grips the post with one hand, while my hands grip her ass cheeks, keeping her right where I want her.
I dive in like a man starved, tasting every inch of her pussy until she’s begging and trembling, pulling away right before she comes.
“Thought you could outrun me, wild honey.” I tsk against her, and she jerks from the motion. “There’s no escape. You’remine.”
Her nails dig into my shoulders. “Yours,” she whispers. “Please, Tristan.”
“Please, what? Make you come?” I lap at her again, then suck on her clit hard, making her gasp.
“Yes. Please make me come.”
“My pleasure.” Then I devour her like salvation until she detonates around me.
But I don’t stop. I keep going until she comes again with a sob, pleading for me to stop.
My hands are on her hips, holding her steady, as I stand, my mouth covering hers.
“My turn.” I pull back, lowering the mask to cover my face. “Show me how much you want me.”
She licks her lips, immediately dropping to her knees. I reach up, my palm flattening against the post as she licks the precum from my tip.
“You’re so big,” she whispers as she wraps a hand around the base.
“You can take me.” My finger lightly traces her jaw. “Show me.”
She opens her mouth and takes me deep. I suck in a breath, my hand tangling in her hair.
“That’s it. Suck me, baby.”
