Page 56 of Meet Cute the Virgin

Then he’s everywhere, consuming, his tongue forcing my lips apart, tasting himself on me and groaning. His urgency for me can’t be denied.

“You’re going to kill me,” he growls against my mouth, but he’s already positioning himself, hands rough under my thighs, spreading me open.

“Good,” I breathe, wrapping my legs around his waist, feeling the head of his cock pressing into me. “Do it.”

He thrusts into me in one hard stroke, no warning, no gentle build, and I scream against his shoulder. The stretch burns so good I see stars, my nails digging into his back. This is it. What I’ve always wanted from Tristan, for him to let go and take whathe wanted. For him to be so obsessed with me that it drives him to the brink of insanity.

“Fuck,” he chokes out. “Lily?—”

“Don’t stop.” I roll my hips, encouraging him. He’s so deep inside of me I can barely breathe. “Don’t stop,” I say again. He doesn’t.

Tristan pulls back and slams into me again and again, his grip on my thighs bruising, and I love it. Love that he’s finally stopped pretending, finally taking what he wants, finally treating me like I’m his in every way that matters.

He’s fucking me like he hates me, like he loves me, like he can’t tell the difference anymore. I cling to him, moaning his name, feeling the pressure build with every thrust. Feeling so many other things that I can’t even put into words at the moment.

“You’re mine,” he snarls against my neck, teeth grazing my pulse. “Say it.”

“Yours,” I gasp, arching into him. “Always yours, you psycho fucking stalker.”

He laughs, broken and wild, and drives into me harder, chasing his own release, chasing mine. I feel it building, coiling tight, and when his hand slides between us to find my clit, I come apart with a scream that echoes off the tiles.

He follows seconds later, burying himself deep, spilling inside me with a ragged groan that sounds like surrender.

I press my face against his neck, breathing hard, and feel his arms tighten around me like he’ll never let go.

“Still think I’m drunk?” I tease, smiling.

“You’re a disaster,” he says, but he’s smiling against my hair. “My disaster.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

TRISTAN

I’m going to put those handcuffs to use on her little ass. I create some of the best tech in the world, and I can’t stop one tiny blonde from giving me the slip. I run my hand down my face and sit up. I sleep hard when she’s in bed with me. It only goes to show that not only is my head messed up over her, but my body needs her for survival.

I touch the other side of the bed. She’s been gone long enough that the sheets where she slept have lost her warmth, but her scent still lingers.

There is no way she made it out of this house without me knowing. I made sure of that before I let myself really fall asleep. There’s no way in hell we are going to have a repeat of yesterday. She’s lucky I let her leave this bed without following her.

I roll from the bed and grab my phone off the nightstand. With one swipe, it brings up the feed. There she is, rifling through the office closet where I keep hard copies of documents and photos. I walk down the hall and pause at the open doorway. She has pulled a box onto the floor and is flipping through photographs, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. My shirt she picked up off the floor and is now wearing hangs off oneshoulder. She pauses at an image and tilts her head, curious, relentless.

I could watch her all morning. She is every bit the disaster I adore. She can’t help it if she’s unable to let boundaries stand. It’s who she is. Always pushing until she gets answers or whatever it is she’s seeking.

I shift my weight, and the floorboard creaks, letting her know I’m there. My girl goes still. Slowly, she turns, the photograph clutched in her hand like a shield. Her cheeks flush pink, having been caught digging through my personal items.

I lean against the jamb of the door and fold my arms. “You find anything interesting?” I tease. I’m coming to terms with the fact that I’m not going to be able to keep things from her. All it does is drive her curiosity, and if I know anything about Lily, even when she was younger, if she wanted to find or know something, she would. Her father was the same way. It’s why he was so successful in his career.

Her eyes narrow. “You have a file on my drink preferences.”

“I have a file on everything when it comes to you. Can you add champagne to it for me?” I step into the room. “Keep looking. You might find the one about how you snore.”

“I do not snore.” She glares up at me. Does she not know my dick enjoys the hell out of those glares? It means she’s close to unleashing on me and giving me that smart mouth of hers. It’s like foreplay. If she knew I often enjoyed that, she might stop doing it, so I will be keeping that one from her, for now.

“I’m teasing you.” I make my way over to her. “You only drool a little.” She doesn’t protest when I pluck her off the floor. Without a thought, her legs wrap around me. It’s as natural as breathing.

“How do you feel?” I ask. I made sure she drank some water last night along with taking a few pills to prevent a headache.

She wiggles slightly against me, a small smile playing at her mouth, her cheeks going pinker. It’s now my favorite color. “A little sore.” Her voice drops, becoming more intimate. “But worth it.”