His hands then move back up her body, gliding over the curve of her hips and waist until he comes to her breasts, and he hesitates for a moment until he feels her arch into his touch, and his hands fly up to cup each breast, so round, full, and heavy in his palms. She’s wearing no bra, and the thin material of the tank top is no match for her nipples that are taut and straining to be touched.
Tristan breaks away from her neck and pulls back to look at her, caught momentarily in a trance at how beautiful she looks, face bare and almost innocent, and he’s struck by how similar she looks to the nervous 20-year-old that was once his.
“Please let me have you,” he whispers desperately, his long fingers inching under the hem of her top, itching to cup her naked breast in his hands.
She nods, her breath heavy and uneven, and he removes the flimsy top from her body in one fluid motion, leaving her naked from the waist up in front of him, and his knees nearly buckle.
“Fuck baby,” he whispers, his forehead crashing down to hers, his large hands cupping her naked breasts, thumbs ghosting over her nipples.
“Ohh,” she moans at the contact, throwing her head back in ecstasy.
“Your tits are perfect, Tess,” he says, his eyes glued to her chest, squeezing and caressing the supple flesh. He contemplates asking her permission, but then decides against it, knowing that if he doesn’t get his tongue on her bare breasts he would never forgive himself. Instead, he drops instantly to his knees, which puts him about eye level of her chest due to his towering height, and he instantly takes a nipple into his mouth. She moans and arches, and he allows his tongue to roam over the nipple and the underside swell of her breast before going straight for the other and mimicking the actions that made her moan and squirm.
“That feels so good,” Tessa groans, feeling any resolve she had left quickly dissipating and replaced with the deep, all-consuming need to be manhandled by him; to feel his hands, his lips, his tongue and what she knows to be a huge, hard cock, all over her.
He stands up quickly when he hears her words and leans down to grab the back of her thighs, picking her up like she weighs nothing, and wrapping her legs around his middle.
“Where’s your fucking bed,” he says urgently against her lips.
“Behind you, to the right.”
Showcasing how coachable he is, he follows her instruction perfectly and finds his way into her bedroom without even having to break their kiss.
He quickly tosses her onto the bed, causing her to bounce and giggle, the sound of her laughter making his heart skip and his dick start leaking. But he wastes no time and instantly goes back to lavishing her breasts with the attention they deserve.
He starts feeling her hips moving against him, desperate for friction, and smiles against the soft flesh of her rib cage before he starts teasing her, playing with the waist band of her pink sweatpants, just barely ghosting his fingers underneath, causing her to buck her hips wildly and claw at his shoulders.
“Tristan,” she breathes. “Touch me, please.”
He sinks his fingers lower under the waist band but still doesn’t give her what she needs. He breaks contact with her and holds himself up with his arm, his green eyes dancing with delight and mischief as he watches her struggle with the desire coursing through her body, and him not quite giving it to her.
“You took this away from me for 10 years,” he says, his voice husky and deep, his fingers dipping lower, finding her not wearing panties, and his cock jumps. “Maybe I should make you wait.”
“Don’t you dare,” she says, eyes flaring with need.
“Well, are you going to be a good girl from now on?” he asks, his fingers finally making contact with her outer lips, and he has to bite his lip painfully hard to hold himself back from sinking into what he can already tell is her unbelievably wet, hot pussy.
“Tristan,” she whines.
“Tessa,” he challenges back, dipping his middle finger lower until it makes the slightest contact with her swollen clit, and her whole body shudders from the small touch. “Tell me you’re going to be a good girl and that this is only for me. Come on baby, I know you want to,” his smile is wicked and devilish. She wants to be defiant but knows that she can’t. He’s fucking right. She’d do anything he said.
“I’ll be good for you,” she moans. “I’ll be a good girl, just please make me come.”
“That’s my girl,” he whispers and sinks his fingers all the way to her opening, gasping at how wet she really is.
“Oh sweetheart,” he coos, his fingers delicately rubbing over her lips and her clit, his eyes wide and reverent as he watches her writhe and moan beneath him. “You’re fucking dripping,” he whispers. “This must ache, baby.”
She can only nod and continue thrust her hips into his hand.
“Please,” she begs.
With his unoccupied hand, he rips her pants down her long legs and tosses them aside, finally leaving her naked in front of him. She’s perched on the edge of the bed, and he is standing between her legs that he has spread open, with his fingers expertly gliding over her wet, swollen lips, and Tessa bucks so hard that his finger slips inside without him trying. They both moan out at the contact.
“Fuckyou’re wet,” he says through clenched teeth, adding another finger and pumping slowly in and out of her.
“Tristan, oh fuck,” Tessa’s hands are gripped onto his strong forearms, her legs spread shamelessly wide open for him, and her hips thrashing and grinding wildly against his hand. She is wound so tight that she has no sense of what’s up from down and couldn’t care less about the explicit sounds that are filling the room.
“Easy baby, easy,” he whispers, adding the friction of his thumb to her clit, and he watches with lust filled eyes as she starts to come undone. Her tight stomach muscles start to contract and flex, her log legs start shaking, and the look in her eyes that he memorized all those years ago is so familiar that it feels like a gut punch.
