She's better than I remembered.
Her hips jerk against my face, and I grip them hard, pinning her to the wall. She's not moving until I'm finished with her.
And I'm not planning on being finished for a very long time.
"Oh—" Her hand flies to her mouth, muffling the sound. "Oh god, oh god, oh?—"
I work her with my tongue, tracing patterns I used to know by heart. Relearning what makes her gasp, what makes her shake, what makes her thighs clamp around my head like she's trying to trap me there forever.
As if I'd ever want to leave.
She's so responsive, I love it. Every lick pulls a sound out of her. Every stroke makes her legs tremble harder. She's gripping the wall with one hand and her mouth with the other, muffled moans slipping through her fingers despite her best efforts.
"That's it," I growl against her clit, letting her feel the vibration of my voice. "Just like that. Show me how much you missed this."
"I can't…it's too…"
"You can." I slide two fingers inside her, curling them forward. "You will."
Her entire body bows off the wall.
I've never seen anything more captivating. I'm so far gone for this woman it's become a sickness. A fever I have no interest in curing.
"Look at you." I pump my fingers slowly, watching her fall apart. "Coming undone in the garden you're only allowed to visit at designated times. What would your husband think?"
She lets out this broken, desperate sound that goes straight to my cock.
"What would he do if he knew his wife was dripping down my wrist right now? If he knew she was about to come on my tongue while he sleeps in his bed, dreaming about all the ways he thinks he owns her?"
"Please, Tristan?—"
"He."Thrust. "Doesn't."Thrust. "Own."Thrust. "You."
I curl my fingers against her g-spot.
"He never did. You've always been mine, Keira. Even when I couldn't find you. Even when I didn't know where you were." Her eyes roll to the back of her head. "Some part of me always knew you were out there. Still waiting. Still mine."
I wrap my mouth over her clit and suck.
Her orgasm is building. I can feel it in the way she clenches around my fingers, the way her thighs have started to quiver uncontrollably, the way her breath comes in short, sharp bursts against her palm.
I devour her like a man possessed. My tongue plunges in alongside my fingers, lapping up every drop like it's the only thing that can quench this endless thirst. I tease her with rhythmic pulses, then swirl my tongue in relentless circles until she's arching off the wall.
Her hand fists in my hair. I growl against her skin, the vibration making her jolt.
"That's it. Take it." I flick my tongue against her swollen clit. "You're mine to break apart. Such a pretty, soaking mess for me."
I seal my lips over her and suck hard, fingers curling inside her, hitting that spot over and over.
"Come for me."
She shatters.
The orgasm rips through her so hard her knees buckle. I catch her with one arm around her waist, holding her up while I work her through every wave, dragging out every last tremor until she's sagging against the wall.
I don't stop.
I keep going until she's gasping, until she's trying to push my head away, until she's oversensitive and twitching and making those broken little sounds I want to bottle and keep forever.
