“I say stay where you are. There’s something I have to check on.”
“What?”
But he was already gone, disappearing down her body. She lifted herself onto her elbows and watched that blond shaggy head nudge apart her thighs. His tongue against her clit made her muffle a shriek.
“Wanted to see if you tasted like strawberries.” He lifted his head, his eyes a dark gleam of light. “But you don’t. You taste better than strawberries.”
She let her head fall back as he dipped his head to her sex again. Closing her eyes, she lost herself in the world of pleasure he generated with each stroke of that warm tongue. It was the most luxurious feeling. She didn’t have to do anything except receive his attention. She didn’t have to run or plan or worry or prepare. All she had to do was enjoy.
He parted her legs farther and ran his hands up and down her inner thighs. She shook with pleasure, since that was one of the most sensitive parts of her body. Her hips arched upwards, seeking more friction from his mouth. He gave her what she wanted, circling her clit, pressing just enough to make her cry out…but not come.
God, she was ready, but she didn’t want to, not yet. She wanted to draw this out as long as possible, she needed this escape, this oblivion. He must have felt the same, because he kept bringing her right to the edge, then pausing as she trembled and moaned.
“I need to be inside you,” he finally said through gritted teeth. “It’s an urgent situation.”
“Yes,” she gasped. “I’m in favor.”
He reached past her to the nightstand next to the bed. Craning her neck, she saw that a small pile of condoms sat behind the candles.
“Did you put those there?”
“I did. I’m an optimistic guy.”
“I’d say realistic.” She laughed at him as he ripped one open. “You knew I wanted you.”
“And you knew I wanted you. From pretty much the moment you helped me with Fidget.”
“Really?” She was touched by that confession. “I thought you were quite annoying at that point.”
“Annoying, eh?” He flipped her over onto her stomach and slid a hand between her legs. She moaned as he touched her already hyper-aroused clit. “Take that back.”
“Or what?”
“Or I’ll make you scream for mercy.” The hot rough edge in his voice made her inside pool with heat. His other hand, the one that wasn’t planted between her legs, took her breast—no, both of her breasts, that was how big his hand was. Her nipples pulsed as he fondled her, both gentle and rough, hard and tender, keeping her off balance and yet arrowed toward that sweet, sweet destination shimmering ahead.
She came, bucking against him, glorious pleasure sweeping through her and washing everything else away. He rode out her climax with those magic hands of his. When the waves of sensation had diminished to a low throb, he flipped her over again. She landed on her back, panting up at him, buzzing with full-body satisfaction.
“I want to watch this time,” he told her roughly. “I want to see your face when you shatter.”
This time? Goodness.
Almost dizzy from her release, she reached for his erection. Thick and hard inside its casing of latex, it throbbed against her hand. “I never got to taste it,” she said, almost mournfully. “Now it’s all wrapped up like a sausage.”
He gave a spurt of laughter that had a strained quality to it. Probably because she was enclosing his penis in her fist. Under her caresses, his body tensed as he braced himself over her, his big shoulders rigid. His breaths came rough and hard, and so did hers. Watching him got her heated all over again, or maybe she hadn’t come down from her arousal.
She guided him toward her opening. “Ready if you are, desperado.”
“Yeah?”
“Oh yes.” She was pretty sure a woman couldn’t be readier than she was. The orgasm he’d given her still rippled through her, but it wasn’t the end of this story. Something enormous was waiting for her, coming closer and closer with everything Tristan did to her.
Oh yes, she was ready for that.
At least she thought she was, but when Tristan eased himself inside her, taking her inch by inch, filling her up, he tipped her into another realm of connection she hadn’t foreseen. This wasn’t just sex; he was part of her, she was surrounding him, embracing him with the most secret parts of her body.
And when he moved inside her, they quickly fell into a shared rhythm that sent vivid pulses of pleasure all the way to her fingertips. They panted and strained together. She wanted everything for him. Joy, pleasure, release. For her too, of course, but this time, she wanted to see him lose control. She wanted him to experience the soaring bliss that saturated her being.
And when he came, rocking his hips into her, his body rigid and trembling, her heart nearly exploded along with the orgasm that shook her all the way to her core.
Twenty-Three
Tristan eased his still-pulsing cock from Lulu’s body. She lay with her arms spread out, utterly relaxed, the picture of boneless bliss. He needed a moment to collect himself, so he pressed a lingering kiss to her lips and murmured, “Be right back.”
She blinked at him with hazy blue eyes. “Washroom?”
And even that was adorable, the Britishism of washroom instead of bathroom.
He grabbed one of the towels Toni had piled on the dresser and wrapped it around his hips. In the downstairs bathroom, which was still unfinished and awaiting tiles, he disposed of the condom, cleaned himself off, and braced his hands on the sink. He looked at himself in the mirror and said one word.
“Fuck.”
He knew what it meant. He didn’t have to explain himself to his reflection. It meant that things with Lulu were getting…out of hand. Out of his don’t-get-too-deep comfort zone. Out of his never-doing-that-again rut.
He splashed water on his face and reminded himself that she wasn’t going to be here for long. In a matter of hours, she’d probably be gone.
That didn’t make him feel any better. In fact, he didn’t like that idea one bit. He and Lulu had formed a connection—he didn’t want to say relationship because that would be overstating it—that meant something to him. She’d brought out a part of him that he’d lost sight of.
Lulu, along with Raul, once he’d appeared, had inspired him to put himself on the line.
He didn’t want to back away from that. So maybe the only thing to do was to take it even further.
Hell, she was leaving anyway, right? And he could talk to her the way he couldn’t talk to people he’d known all his life. He’d already noticed that. With Lulu, he could admit things that he didn’t necessarily want Lost Harbor knowing about.
Filled with determination, he strode back into the guest bedroom. Lulu was still awake, judging by the slit of blue peeking through her mostly closed eyelids. She’d drawn the comforter over some of her body, but not all. He caught a glimpse of one bare leg, bent at the knee, and her beautifully molded collarbones and shoulders.
Ignore, ignore.
“Few things you should know about me,” he said from the doorway, arms folded.
Her eyes opened wider, though they still held the same sleepy satisfaction. “Is this the part where you explain how you don’t get involved in relationships and you always keep it light and you never spend the whole night with a woman, blah blah blah? I think we can skip that speech, since I’m probably leaving tomorrow.”