Page 41 of Tristan’s Temptation

“They’re cold,” she whispered.

“Not for long.” His fingers joined hers inside her canal, pressing the balls deeper still. “Don’t let them fall out.” He pulled her panties up tight in her crack until the crotch rubbed against her clit. She moaned and he bit back an evil chuckle.

It was going to be a long day. For both of them.

And it was.

By close of business, Shannon was cross-eyed with lust. She’d thought of nothing but Tristan, his cock inside her, all day. The sensation of fullness, the slight movements of the balls inside her, the heat scorching her body from the inside out, had her going mad.

Conversations were difficult, to say the least. And more than once, her coworkers paused during an exchange to stare at her.

“Are you all right?” Kat asked when they met at the copier. “You look like you’re in pain.”

“Yes. I’m fine.”

Kat’s expression was dubious.

“Really. I’m just tired.”

“You should go home if you don’t feel well.”

It was all Shannon could do not to snort. Would that she could go home. Or better yet, march into Tristan’s office and demand he fuck her right then and there. But she wouldn’t. She couldn’t. This was his game and she was determined to prove to him she could play along.

But dear heavens, it was killing her.

She almost fainted with relief when she checked the clock on her laptop and discovered it was almost five. Almost time.

He made her wait until everyone had left the office, another agonizing hour. And then he came to her.

He stood at her desk, looming over her like a dark, delicious shadow. “Are you ready?”

“Am I.”

He chuckled. She was not amused. She was too horny to be amused.

She stroked his hard thigh, perilously close to something harder. “We could just stay here.”

He captured her hand with his own. “No, Shannon. We have reservations.”

“But Tristan…”

“Come on.” He grabbed her coat and purse. “No pouting. Let’s go.”

The short drive took forever. Shannon never fretted much over LA traffic but today she desperately wanted a bazooka to blow away every car in their path.

He glanced over at her and grinned. “Not long now.”

She glared at him. Her mild arousal had, through the day, morphed into a raging inferno. She was so wet the balls kept slipping out and each time she surreptitiously reached down to press them back in, she nearly exploded.

“You’re going to pay for this, Tristan Trillo.”

Though her threat was a roiling growl, he laughed. “I certainly hope so.”

He pulled through a pair of bronze gates and into a small parking lot next to a rather fanciful, though understated, mansion. The sign at the gate said simply, Privat.

A flutter arose in the region of her heart. “Is this it?”

How he heard her whisper, she didn’t know. “Yes, Shannon. This is it.” He turned to her, his expression tight. “Are you ready? Because God knows I am.”