“I tried to get here sooner,” he said, leaning over her and nuzzling her hair. Tracing along her head, under her jaw.
He nipped her earlobe and ran his nose down her neck, across her collarbone, and then back to the base of her throat. A rumble of appreciation sounded from him, warming Ele and waking her the rest of the way. She shimmied out from under the sheet and twisted around, so she was on her knees, on his side. She threw her leg over his thighs and straddled his waist. His hands landed on her hips, and he held her on his lap, resting his head against her chest.
“Tell me about your night.” She curled her fingers around the nape of his neck and held him to her.
“Hmm,” he murmured, pushing her camisole down with his chin, baring her breast. He turned his head and licked around her nipple.
Ele moaned, her head dropping back.
“It was amazing,” he finally told her. “The whole thing.” His mouth never left her skin.
“You must be exhausted.”
“I was,” he admitted, his hands leaving their post to rub up and down the length of her sides.
His thumbs wreaked havoc as his fingers danced along her spine and his mouth laced decadent licks upon her nipple. She shifted closer to him, wanting to feel his erection between her legs. He glanced up at her with a wicked smile. Then, his hands cupped her ass, and he fitted her to him. They groaned in unison as the thin barrier of her sleep shorts gave way to him.
“I’m not anymore.”
Ele had lost the thread of the conversation. “Not what?”
He kissed her collarbone and dipped his hips before flexing them. He was teasing her, coming close to where she wanted him without actually touching her there. She could feel the dampness and heat between her legs, and she squirmed against him.
“Tired,” he answered. Then, as if to illustrate his point, he pushed up, rubbing against her clit, making her gasp.
“Right there,” she instructed, as if he didn’t know. “God, right there.”
He chuckled. “Seeing you there tonight, knowing you were watching me, I loved it.” His hand skated down her back, over her ass, under the flimsy silken material, inside of her.
She gulped, unprepared. “Yes. More.”
He tormented her with his fingers, cupping her from behind, rubbing against her with his cock. Tristan leaned down and captured her unexposed nipple in his mouth again. He gently bit down. Ele panted, her breath heaving.
“Tell me you watched me.”
“Every step,” she admitted, her brain hardly able to form coherent thoughts. “You loved it. I was shaking with nerves, and you loved it.”
He continued to nuzzle her and play with her, to pull her hips forward, to command every erogenous zone on her body. “I did. I do. I live for that.”
Her hand reached between them, and she cupped him, stroked him. She kept moving her hips, bumping against her own hand.
Tristan peeled himself away from feasting on her breast. Leaning back, he watched her hand work them. “That’s so hot. Fucking brilliant.”
Encouraged, Ele pulled on the waistband of his shorts, freeing his erection. Her fingers curled around the head. She caressed him, running her thumb along the slit, toying with it. He moved them together, so her hand was touching both of them again.
“Just like that, E. Just like that.” The hand between her legs moved quicker, in and out of her. “I need to be inside of you.”
“You are,” she said on a snicker.
His hand moved away, and she felt the loss of it.
“No,” she whimpered.
He produced a condom out of thin air, and while she gazed down at him, he rolled it on. He shoved her shorts aside. Ele placed her hands on his shoulders and went up onto her knees. He positioned himself and guided her down. She sank onto him, chasing oblivion. He slowed her with a squeeze on her hip.
“Now, I’m inside of you.” He smirked.
He was. He was so deep in her; she was full. She allowed herself a moment to feel him, to enjoy being filled by him. His hands ran through her hair, and he tugged on the ends, making her head fall back a little.
“I loved that you were there tonight,” he said.
Ele could hardly think, but Tristan was speaking in complete sentences. She pushed down with her hands and up with her legs, enjoying the slide of him as he almost left her completely. Then, she slid back down, and Tristan didn’t try to speak anymore. She set the rhythm, called the shots, and Tristan allowed her to. She reveled in the power, in the way his face projected every reaction, in the automatic flexing of his hands on her hips. She rode him, the silk of her sleep clothes an added sensation as it rubbed against her nipples. Tristan pulled her hand away from his shoulder, and he placed it where their bodies met.
She followed the path with her eyes and felt herself flush with embarrassment.
He lifted her chin with his hand, so their eyes locked.
“Make yourself come,” he demanded softly.
She clenched around him, his words heating her more. He hissed, his eyes fluttered, and then he purposely looked between them, waiting for her. She wanted to prolong the moment, but she couldn’t resist him. In two strokes, she was clenching around him, her orgasm fast and hard. Her vision got hazy, and her hand clenched on his shoulder, hanging on. Tristan watched her, reveling in her release.
Then, he took over. He turned them and laid her on her back, never leaving her body. He hooked his hand under her knee, positioning her leg out wide. He moved between her thighs, driving into her.
“Wanted this so bad,” he muttered. “It wasn’t complete”—he shifted, hitting her clit, making her cry out—“wasn’t complete without this,” he gasped.
Then, he came with his eyes closed, his head back, his neck straining. Ele hung on, milking the last of his orgasm.
24
15 July
SeatGeek Stadium
Ele fastened the pin to her shirt and glanced back to the mirror. Second-guessing her choice for the tenth time. She shook her head in chagrin—at herself mostly.
Ele never got the opportunity to be the People’s Princess. That moniker always belonged to Juliana with her ready smile, unusual but gorgeous features, and no hint of anxiety with the press.
But as she’d contemplated her outfit the night before, she’d remembered Jamie climbing onto the chair in the royal box after the semifinal match. She read the articles the next day about his instinctive ability to connect with the masses. The headlines around the world extolled his charisma and manner. When Millie came at her with a staid navy suit, Ele had to hold herself back from physically recoiling. She hadn’t wanted to appear in front of the world in an outfit her grandmother would wear.
Again, her gaze returned to the mirror.
Her hair fell in waves down her back. Normally, she wore it up, a French twist or a sophisticated bun. In her ears, she wore small gold studs, hardly visible. Her white pants were tailored and tapered. Millie had cautioned her about wearing heels, but she was outfitting herself in armor today, and she needed to be fully dressed. Flats might have been more practical, but she found herself in heels nonetheless. She would walk on her toes as she made her way to the dais. Finally, her eyes landed on her choice of top. Beatrix had worked wonders with the jersey, tucking it at the waist. Truly, she thought the design was a bit ridiculous. Blue, white, and yellow gingham for a football jersey? But it actually didn’t look too bad with her pants.