Sophia gazed up into that handsome, harshly elegant face and braced herself for the first thrust of his body into hers, but instead of taking her at once, Tristan paused to brush the tangled hair from her face. “You look nervous, pixie.” He leaned over her to press a soft kiss to her lips. “I’d never hurt you, Sophia.”
She cupped his cheek in her hand. “I know you won’t.”
Sophia opened her legs wider, offering herself to him, and he pressed the head of his cock against her slick entrance. He gasped when he felt her heat, then gave one restrained thrust, just enough so the broad head slipped inside her.
She let out a soft gasp, but it wasn’t a gasp of pain. She wrapped her legs around his hips and tilted her pelvis up to draw him in deeper. “I want all ofyou, Tristan.”
Tristan groaned. His eyes were squeezed shut, and beads of sweat clung to his skin. “You’re so tight, sweetheart. I’m afraid I’ll hurt you.” He strummed his thumb over the sensitive nub hidden in her damp folds as he eased inside her, driving them both mad with every careful inch until at last he was seated deep. “Sophia, youfeel so good.”
“You feel sobig.” Sophia gave an experimental nudge with her hips that made Tristan moan. “You feel huge inside me.”
Panic flashed across his face. “Is it too much? AmI hurting you?”
He began to draw back, but Sophia wrapped her legs around his hips to hold him in place. “No! Don’t move. I mean,domove,just not…out.”
Tristan let out a quiet laugh, but he did move inside her then, each thrust so slow and careful Sophia felt her throat close with emotion at how gentle he was with her. He murmured into her ear as he coaxed her with his body, telling her how good she felt, how much he wanted her, how beautiful she was, and before long Sophia’s hips were moving in tandem with his. “Tristan, I…Tristan.” She opened her mouth against his shoulder and scraped her teeth overhis damp skin.
Tristan’s breath left his lungs in a hiss when he felt her tiny bite. He tangled his fist in her hair and drew her head back, staring down at her as his hips jerked against hers, all restraint at an end. “Come for me, pixie.Yes. Take your pleasure, Sophia.”
His fingers moved feverishly between her legs, coaxing and teasing. Sophia’s head thrashed against the pillow, her fingernails scoring his back as her center drew tighter with his every wicked stroke until at last, she shattered beneathhim with a cry.
“Yes, Sophia. Sogood…” Tristan drove into her once, then again before he stilled, holding himself deep inside her as a low, guttural moan fell from his lips, his powerful body shaking with his release.
Afterward, he collapsed onto the bed beside her and buried his face in her neck. As their ragged breathing began to calm, he lifted his head and looked down at her. His eyes were soft and sleepy as he traced his finger over her lips. “I already want you again.”
He gave her a crooked grin that made Sophia’s heart lurch in her chest. She smiled and reached up to stroke his dark, damp hair back from his face. “Well, I’m not going anywhere.”
“That’s right, you’re not. Because if you leave my bed, I’ll come after you, throw you over my shoulder, and bring you back here.” The arrogance of this statement was somewhat offset when he leaned down and dropped a kiss on the end of her nose.
Sophia slid closer and draped herself over his chest, resting her chin on her folded arms. She stared at him, her nose wrinkled in thought, then reached out to tease a fingertip over his scar. “A highwayman shot at you, and the ball grazed your lip?”
He toyed with a loose lock ofher hair. “No.”
“A criminal knocked you down, and your face hit the edge of a cobblestone, bloodying your lip and leaving the scar?”
He rolled his eyes, but his grin was back, twitching at the corners of his mouth. “No. Do I look like the sort of man who’d let a criminal, or anyone else,knock me down?”
“No,” Sophia admitted, still studying the scar. “A kick to the face, and the boot heel caught your lip? A thief attacked you with abroken bottle?”
Tristan tugged gently at the lock of her hair between hisfingers. “No.”
“Did someone bite you? Someone with very sharp teeth?”
He drew the coverlet over them, then cupped the back of her head and eased it onto his bare chest. “Go tosleep, Sophia.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I can’t possibly sleep until I know how yougot that scar.”
His low laugh rumbled against her cheek.“Yes, you can.”
Sophia made a doubtful noise, but then Tristan wrapped her in his arms, and his big hand moved in slow, rhythmic strokes over her hair, and he was so warm and solid, and hereyes so heavy…
Within seconds she’d fallen into a sleep too deep for doubts, and too peaceful even for dreams.
Chapter Twenty
Sophia peeked over the edge of the coverlet and frowned at the pale sun struggling against the thick silk drapes of Tristan’s bedchamber. The coverlet on top of her was soft and warm, the bed like a fluffy cloud cradling her pleasantly sore body.
This must be why aristocrats tended toward laziness—they hardly ever rose before noon because their beds were too enticing. Sleeping in such plush magnificence was certainly making her indolent.
