“But you flooded so beautifully,” he taunted, then made another lazy swirl over her clitoris with his tongue, making her convulse. “I want to know why.”
Then as suddenly as he stilled his hand, he began to move it again. Rapid and rhythmic, it caused her core to flood and tighten as pleasure hit her all over again.
“Do not stop,” she breathed, feeling closer to the edge than ever before as her fingernails tore little holes into the silk cover of the pillow.
“Tell me and I won’t,” Tristan taunted, though he was already starting to slow his hand.
Unable to take his teasing, Ophelia pushed past her embarrassment and shouted, “Your hands!”
“Mmmm,” Tristan hummed, slowly starting to pick up tempo in his wrist again, “What about my hands?”
“The shape of them. I dreamt of these hands. They makes me ache from the inside out! And your voice. Especially when you moan or make sounds of pleasure. Every time I hear it now I want you. You’re pure sin.”
Her confession rushed out of her in a smattering of words that she was not at all sure that made sense, but it was the truth. His sounds of pleasure had filled her dreams; haunting her.Taunting her so much that when she woke up in the morning, she found herself warm and flooded and full of yearning.
She expected him to tease her for such a confession now, but she was rewarded with another one of his low, throaty moans as his mouth returned to her sex.
“There’s my good girl,” he praised, and with that, the swirl of his tongue, and the flick of his wrist, Ophelia’ orgasm gushed forth.
The cords of every muscle and tendon in Ophelia’s body tightened as her release exploded. Stars erupted behind her closed eyes as her mouth dropped open and she screamed. Then her ecstasy settled in, releasing the tension from her body and leaving her in useless, panting heap as she struggled to catch her breath.
Tristan’s soft kisses sent delicious little spasms throughout her as he worshiped her inner thighs, her lower belly, and slowly made his way up to her abdomen. She whimpered with exhausted satisfaction as he swirled his tongue lazily over one breast, then the other, then moaned as he settled his hips between her splayed legs and kissed her deeply.
His throbbing erection pulsed against her overly sensitive mons, and through the daze of her own satisfaction, she realized that Tristan was as full of need as she was. Stirring from her delirium, she kissed him back, raking her nails lightly down the back his head as she flicked her hips against his manhood. He moaned softly into her mouth as her dewy petals slid against his length, and he broke the kiss to rest his forehead against her collarbone.
“Don’t do that,” he whispered, his voice full of ache.
A mischievous smile twitched at Ophelia’s lips.
“Why not?” She asked, then flicked her hips again.
She was rewarded with one of Tristan’s deep, utterly masculine moans as she felt his cock twitch at her subtle movement.
“Ophelia,” he groaned, his body tightening under her touch.
“Mmm, she purred, sliding her nails from her lower back all the way up to the trap of his shoulders; making him shudder with sexual tension.
“Ophelia, please,” he pleaded, “I am trying to hold on to what little shred of dignity I have left.”
Ophelia’s pleasure died as her heart twisted at his words, and she shoved him away. He looked up her with dazed, confused eyes as she scrambled into a sitting position and pulled a pillow over her figure.
“Your dignity?” She asked, suddenly overcome with shame. “I see. You must have given up quite a bit to lower your standards for me. Is that right?”
Tristan’s eyes widened and he shook his head. He tried to reach for her but she slid away, moving off of the bed to find her dress.
“That is not what I meant!” Tristan insisted, following her. She stepped away from his touch, picked up his trousers, and threw them at him.
He caught them just before they hit his chest and he roughly stepped into them.
“Ophelia, that is not I meant,” he said again, his tone more insistent. “I am a gentleman, I always try to remain as such, but with you I keep…I keep… giving into something I shouldn’t.”
“Because you cannot stand me, correct?” She asked. She then chortled, if for anything to hide the sob that was welling up in her throat. “Of course you cannot stand me. You never could, and you made that quite clear for the past several years.”
“Ophelia, stop,” Tristan demanded.
Heat flushed through Ophelia’s cheeks as he moved in front of her, still naked from the waist up as he gripped her arms. She hated how quickly her body responded to his touch; his closeness. She hated more how her eyes brimmed with tears as she refused to look up at his face.
“This has all been very confusing,” he stated, his tone insistent, “Yes, we have clearly disliked one another in the past. It is obvious that we irk one another even now, and I do not understand why this is happening to us. Despite that though, I still respect you as a lady and as the gentleman I am striving to be, there is a line that I cannot cross.”
