“Good.”And oh gawd. If the size of his cock and the evident ease with which he makes me come are any indication of the pleasure heading my way, I might never want to let him go. With my need to please him overriding every red flag, I grip his cockfirmly and sink my mouth onto him, humming my own pleasure at finally tasting his essence.
I know what I’m doing and get into a rhythm that soon has him breathing heavily, but once as I sense he’s on the brink, I pull back and take a moment, forcing him away from the ledge. He grunts his displeasure, and I give him a naughty smile. “More?”
“God, yes.” His fingers drive into my hair, and he guides my head back down. This time I take him so deep, I feel consumed. “Fuck, Lexi,” he grunts as I slide up and roll my tongue around the head. “I know you said you’ve got torture in store for me, but…”
I go down again, this time soft and slow but so deep that his body flexes with pent-up tension. When I come up, he wraps his hand over mine at the base and traces the line of my lips with a forefinger. The sensation of his fingertip and the connection to his cock and my lips is so erotic, it pulses straight to my clit. I blink at him, amazed at the way he’s turned me on with a simple slide of his fingers.
“You like that, don’t you, my angel?” he whispers, holding my head in place. “We’ll explore that some more later.”
This time when I go down, my control has slipped away and into his hands. Tristan is in charge, and as much as he allows me to play and have my fun, he’s leading this dance. He doesn’t apply much pressure, but the guidance is there, and as I give it my all, I know this time he won’t allow me to pull away at the crucial moment.
“Are you going to swallow for me, angel?” he asks softly.
The endearment only makes me want this more. There’s no way to answer except with an acquiescent hum, knowing I want this as much he does. I’ll be ready to come again if he keeps talking dirty in that husky pillow-talk voice of his. When the moment comes, Tristan’s hold on my head falls away, givingme the option to pull back, but I’m too deep into his pleasure, too consumed by this act to release him, and too thrilled by the feeling of his climax spilling into my throat to let go, knowing I have the power to do this to him.
His body shudders under my palms, and I look up at his beautiful face in the dark, the pleasure of his release evident in his jaw, which goes slack as he grinds his head deep into the pillow.
After a moment I swallow, and when he looks down at me, I end our game with a kiss to the tip of his cock. “I need a minute.”
I slip from the bed and go to deal with the aftermath in the bathroom, rinsing and brushing my teeth then managing the wet mess down south. My release has dunked my body in a post-coital high. Thank God we finally crossed that bridge tonight.
When I come out, Tristan is standing in the alcove that connects the bathroom to the main part of the cottage, back in his boxer briefs—dammit—hands on his hips, working his jaw. Neither of us has switched on the lights, overly bug-conscious, but with the moonlight streaming in from outside, I can see his eyes glint as they travel down my breasts to my sex.
“Are you okay?” he asks, taking a hesitant step forward.
“Yes, never better.”
He seems to let go of a pent-up breath. “Lexi… You’re so delicate…so fucking beautiful.” He swallows heavily and takes another step closer. “You blew my mind just now,” he murmurs as he slips his hands around my waist. “I’m worried I was too much?—”
I glow with pleasure at the compliment, but also because he’s checking on me. “Never too much—one round’s maybe not enough, but never too much.” I want more of what we did, more of what we had out there, and I’m going enjoy every minute of being fucked senseless by Tristan until we’re done here.
He chuckles as he kisses my temple, cupping a breast and circling my nipple with his thumb. “So you’re up for this wild ride?”
“Yes.”This is what I’ve wanted for a very long time. I laugh. “And maybe, just maybe…you can charge my vibrator and bring it to the party.”
“Always knew you were a planner.”
“Failing to plan, you’re planning to fail.”
“Rest assured, angel, I don’t plan to fail you at all.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
TRISTAN
It’s after lunch, and Lexi and Jem are not in the office. They’re seeing guests off as they leave for Dar es Salaam on the floatplane. Yesterday I had only half a batch of divers before the wedding, and today there were none, as you can’t fly within twenty-four hours of diving. Roger and I jumped on the opportunity to dive this morning, which leaves me the afternoon for my editing work and my night free for Lexi. If only I could wangle it like this every day.
Just thinking of her and last night makes my cock twitch in anticipation. Watching her come apart under my hand is a visual I don’t plan to file away—ever. To wake up next to her and pull her warm, naked body into my arms was life-affirming. We overslept, and Lexi had to get going for her morning meeting, but every promise was there in that moment. Thinking about anything else is…um, hard.
I force myself to do so as I sit down at Lexi’s desk and make quick work of logging in to my email and social media feeds. I quickly check what’s plotting on the platforms where I have mybiggest following and reply to some comments, making mental notes about questions to come back to.
When I open my inbox, there’s the usual flood of messages. Among all those from colleagues, the one from Dad stands out like a sore thumb. I glance through it. Hmm… Wife number three is pregnant, but they’ve already decided to call it quits and are getting divorced.
“Luckily this one was so short that the prenup isn’t stripping me naked.”
I chuckle dryly, feeling no joy at his news either way. But there’s something in it for wife number three with the child support. My dad might be a dick, but he pays his dues. Kids are pawns that force people to make moves they don’t necessarily want to make. After my arrival, Mom forced Dad to choose between his first family and his second. We all know how that ended—with me being cornered one day by wife number one, when I was six, and told I’d destroyed her marriage. That I was the reason her sons were growing up in a broken home, and she pretty much wished I were dead. I never told anybody about that, because nobody listened to me in the first place. But the notion of being a destructive force when it comes to love has stood the test of time.
Dad doesn’t seem heartbroken. He’s probably moved on already. Some people love the high of falling in love and making vows, and they’ll take the crash that follows any day for those few months of bliss. I’ll have yet another half-brother or sister I’ll never get to know. Kids are mere collateral damage, encouraged to repeat this fucked-up cycle ad infinitum. I won’t buy into it. Listening to those vows at the wedding yesterday had me all clenched up.For better or worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health.The idea of lifelong love is the biggest lie sold to the world in yet another moneymaking scam.
