Those vacant black eyes linger on me, and I can almost picture Tristan’s multicolored eyes twinkling from behind the fabric. The triumphant smirk on his lips, knowing I’m cornered and willing to do almost anything he asks. I’m too far gone. He’s captured and claimed a piece of my heart I’ll never get back. And I don’t want it.
It’s his. It’s always been his.
Tristan’s hips ease back as he notches the head of his cock against my wet opening. “If you want it, Princess, tell me what I want to hear.”
“I…” The word squeezes from my throat, tight and heavy with emotion. “I love you, Tristan.”
He freezes over me, and time stands still until a soft chuckle escapes under his mask. “I caught you, Princess. Game’s over.” He hunches over, his mask leaning in towards my face.
I can make out that glint in his eyes behind the mesh.
“You’re mine, Daphne Fox.”
Tristan thrusts and fills me. His hips piston in and out until he buries himself to the base. His cock stretches me in a heady mix of pleasure and pain. His balls rest against my ass, and his hips spread my legs wider to accommodate him.
I’m so full. It’s too much, yet it’s perfect.
He’s perfect.
He pulls himself almost entirely out of my pussy, then pounds back into me with a force that drives me backward. A twig digs into my shoulder. The ground’s icy under my skin again as he grips my hips and lifts me higher.
He sinks deeper.
Stars dance behind my fluttering eyelids. “Tristan,” I gasp.
He chuckles. “Are you sure it’s Tristan, Princess? How can you know for sure who a masked man is?”
If he’s trying to rile me up, I know exactly how to get back at him for that. I force my eyes open and stare at the mask.
“Unless you’re his twin, I’m pretty confident.”
Tristan releases my hip as he covers my mouth with his large palm.
I have the childish urge to lick it until he thrusts again. His hand catches my moan as my eyes close.
“Eyes on me, Princess,” Tristangrowls.
I obey and force my eyes open.
He pulls out and then thrusts back in like a reward. “It’s just the two of us here,” he says with surprising softness. “No one else. Just you and me.”
I nod. “Just us,” I repeat back, but his hand muffles the words.
Tristan removes his hand and leans low as his hand lifts his mask above his mouth.
His lips find mine. His hand cups my face with a gentleness that contrasts with his hard thrusts into me, slow and methodical. He’s not fucking me for pleasure. He’s making a point. It’s only the two of us here, and no one else needs to be mentioned. Reality isn’t part of our fantasy.
My arms circle around Tristan’s neck. The fabric bites into my arms as I pull him closer, as his body shields me from the rest of the world.
Tristan’s hips roll, striking that perfect spot with each thrust.
Tristan groans above me as his hips quicken their pace.
Tension builds in my lower belly, coiling tighter with each divine movement. His hips press into me, and his groin skims my clit with each unrelenting pound of his hips.
“Tristan.” I gasp. I’m so close now. I need it—just a little more.
Tristan pulls out of me, leaving a hollow emptiness that aches. “Not yet, Princess. Not until you’ve earned it.”
