“Mmm, I’m glad. How about I make you feel really good?”
“How do you plan to do that?” I ask, already knowing as he kisses my belly, spreading my legs apart.
“I’m more a doer than a talker. Lie back, and let’s see if I can put my money where my mouth is.”
I feel just the barest touch, heat washes through me, and I curl my legs up and lift my head.
He looks at me, his eyes hungry, starving even—for me. “Do you want this, Lark?”
I push up on my elbows, staring down at the man who is causing me to literally tremble with desire. “I want this with you.”
“Then you’ll have what you want,” he says, releasing a breath, and then pushes my legs apart. I fall back against the soft mattress at the first swipe of his tongue.
He moans, and I practically melt into the mattress. Tristan’s tongue circles my clit over and over, flicking, then moving side to side, then up and down. Each time he drives me higher and higher. My orgasm is building so fast—too fast. I try to slow my heart rate. To force myself to not feel every damn sensation, but I’m lost.
I’m weak for him.
He is relentless, not giving me even a second to catch my breath or regain control. My fingers tangle in his hair, the dark brown locks like silk as his rough tongue keeps up its friction.
I feel my back start to lift off the bed while he pushes me higher to climax. “Tristan!” I pant, feeling the fire burn through my veins. “I can’t stop it! I can’t. I’m…it’s too much!”
My fingers grip the cool comforter, my skin on fire.
He flicks his tongue faster, and my breathing is so erratic, and I keep speaking, even though I don’t think any of it iscoherent. My orgasm rushes forward, taking me away with the current, and I don’t care. I let it take me under, drown me, fill my body with pleasure. I’ll happily die from this.
And I think I am dead.
I can’t move. Can’t talk. Can’t think in full sentences.
Tristan crawls up my body slowly, kissing back up the way he came. “I take back what I said before,” he says with a grin.
“Hmm?” is all I can muster. I’m pretty sure my brain has short-circuited, and the most I can do is release grunts and whines.
“I think perfection before was muted.”
What the hell does that mean?
“Oh?”
Well, look at me, saying a word.
He kisses me softly. “You’re even more perfect when you come. That…yeah, that is fucking perfect.”
“I feel pretty damn perfect,” I tell him as he lies beside me.
His fingertip trails slowly up my arm, and then he cups my face. “Good.”
“How about I see if I can make you feel the same?” I say as I climb up on my knees, straddling him.
He grins. “Do your worst, sweetheart.”
“Oh, I plan to.” And then I sink down on his cock and ride him until he sees stars.
Chapter 27
Tristan
Lark is passed out, arm draped over my chest, hair covering most of her face, lips parted as she snores softly.
