“That’s it,” I murmur against her ear. “Come for me, baby. Let me feel it.”
“Fuck Tristan,” she screams. “Right there.”
Her whole body is trembling, her pussy pulsing around my cock. Her eyes stay locked on mine until she can’t hold them open anymore as she comes, and it’s the most fucking incredible thing I’ve ever seen.
I keep going, drawing out her orgasm, making her scream.
“That’s my girl,” I breathe, following her over the most delicious edge.
She whimpers, her body still shaking, and I know she’s mine. All mine.
We collapse onto the bed, both of us breathless, sweaty, and completely spent.
She lies on my chest. Her legs are tangled with mine like she belongs here. And fuck, maybe she does. My arm’s around her waist, and her fingers are tracing shapes against my ribs like she doesn’t know what she’s doing to me.
“I need to use the bathroom,” she says.
“Right through there.” I nod toward the doorway.
While she’s in there, I grab a bottle of water and shakeout some ibuprofen. By the time she climbs back into bed, I’ve got it waiting on the nightstand. She gives me that soft little smile as she takes a sip, swallows the pills, then sinks back into the sheets.
I slide in beside her and put my hands to work, kneadin’ the spots I know I held her too tight.
Here’s the thing about sex—least the way I see it. It ain’t just about how loud you make her scream, how many times you can make her orgasm. And don’t get me wrong, that’s important, but it’s all about everything that comes before, and how well you take care of her after. And when you got a woman like Sawyer in your bed… you damn well better not fall short.
“Every day you surprise me,” she says, voice soft and sleepy.
I grin, brushing my fingers along the curve of her spine.
“I like to keep things exciting.”
She tilts her chin up, a teasing smile tugging at her lips.
“You’re more of a gentleman than you give yourself credit for.”
I chuckle, low and rough. “Don’t go sayin’ that. I won’t ever clean up my act, so don’t start thinkin’ you’re gonna change me now.”
She laughs—light and real—and damn if it doesn’t settle right in my chest.
“Tristan?” she whispers.
“Mhm,” I answer, already halfway to sleep with her curled into me like this.
“Can you make him leave?”
“Who?”
“Harrison.”
I crack one eye open.
“Baby, this is a small town. Say the word and I can make him disappear.”
She laughs again, shaking her head against me.
“No… just make him go.”
I lean in, press a kiss to her temple.
