Tristan is gone.
Dragging a hand through my hair, I pull my knees to my chest. I appreciate the moment of peace, which allows me the ability to get acclimated to the morning. But I miss Tristan.
I know, even before I hear the scrape of a utensil against the pan and the sizzle of food, that he’s in the kitchen.
It’s his spot in the morning.
This morning I come to a complete stop when I find him shirtless. He’s pulled on a pair of sweats that hang low on his hips. His muscles ripple in the early sunlight, and there’s got to be something about watching a man cook.
He doesn’t notice as I creep through the kitchen until my hand runs down his back.
“Isolde, baby.” He cranes his head around only to spot me bending on my knees. His eyes narrow. “Iz?”
When he turns around, my hands find his waistband easily, tuggingthem down.
“Iz.” He puts down the spatula. “It’s okay, baby, you don’t?—”
My look silences him. Last night he’d joked about it in the shower, but this morning I want to. More than want to. I want to show him everything I’m thinking and feeling. How I appreciate him and want him to feel good.
It’s gratification, knowing I can take care of him too.
He rapidly thickens, and when I wrap my hand around his large cock, his inhale is sharp.
“Iz.” It’s a plead.
And I intend to make good on it.
I’ve never sucked someone with piercings before, and I’m curious. “I didn’t take you for one with piercings.”
He takes a deep breath when my thumb traces the metal. “You can blame a young, stupid Tristan for that.”
My tongue licks around the row of six piercings before swirling around the tip of his cock. My stomach clenches every time he hisses under his breath. In our past interactions, he’s been the one driving me out of control, and it’s nice being on the opposite side.
I’m careful as I take him in my mouth, the metal scraping against my teeth. My cheeks hollow as I suck, and Tristan leans heavily against the kitchen cabinets.
I relax my throat more, taking him deeper.
“Fuck, Iz.”
My pussy throbs.
He wraps his hand in my hair, and I blink up at him, my mouth full of his cock.
“Oh fuck.” He throws his head back. He thrusts into my mouth, his cock hitting the back of my throat.
I suck deeper and harder, almost like the pair of us are fighting for who is in control. It only makes it hotter, and arousal drips down my inner thighs when he tugs my hair.
“That’s right, baby,” he breathes, pushing his cock into my mouth. “Oh, fuck, Iz.”
My thighs rub together, desperate for friction. Tristan must spot it because he pushes my head down his cock.
“No, focus on me, baby.”
Even those words have an effect, my belly swooping.
I release him, breathing deep. He leans back on one elbow, his other tangling in my hair.
“Open wide.”
