I’m so glad that I waited for him. There’s nothing in me that can imagine doing this with anyone else. What is between us is pure truth, and sharing that with another person would probably kill me. There’s another part of my brain that’s furious that we waited so long, and wants everything right now and faster.
Tristan kisses my neck, and I hold on to his shoulders. He’s still moving with perfect, steady slowness, not wanting to take it too fast or overwhelm me or hurt me. But I’m not made of glass. “More,” I whisper in his ear. “Please.”
He pulls out, and slides home harder, touching that place that only he can reach. Oh my god, the way pleasure blooms deep in my gut is incomparable to anything else I’ve ever experienced. Perfect delicious friction, drawing in pleasure from every part of me.
I tangle my fingers in the short length of his hair and lock his gaze to mine. Emotion so strong washes over me and I’m caught in this storm, and I don’t want to leave.
Steadily Tristan is increasing his speed, and any pain from his size and my inexperience fades away into warmth and bliss. Already I can feel my orgasm rising and I know that this one is going to be different. It’s drawing up from deep within, centered around that point that only Dash can reach.
I could let go and fall into that perfect pleasure right now. My body is begging to. But I don’t want this to be over. Not yet. And so I hold on. “Tristan.” My voice comes out raw and rough, and I don’t even know what I’m asking for, but he does.
It’s his turn to tilt his hips, angling them down, and it changes everything. Now every thrust grinds down on my clit and sends off fireworks behind my eyes. Nothing is slow and gentle anymore, instead we’re slamming together hard and fast, careening toward an inevitable explosion.
“Please, please, please,” I chant, hanging on to Tristan as he fucks me with every ounce of strength that I always knew that he had. It’s all so much, spiraling into light, and I go over the edge. I cry out, not having to hold myself back. It’s like being tipped into a pool of perfect ecstasy. I want to drown in it, breathe it in forever. And Tristan is right there with me, groaning his own climax while his cock jerks inside me.
It seems like the pleasure goes on forever. I can’t see anything but white, can’t hear anything but the beating of my own heart. I’m not sure how long passes before I come back to myself, but when I do, Tristan is still buried to the hilt inside me, pressing down with comforting weight on top of me. I don’t want him to move.
“Hi.”
“Hey,” he smiles. “How do you feel?”
“Good.” I can’t keep the stupidly wide smile off my face. “Amazing.”
He kisses me softly, and I kiss him back hard. This was perfect. Perfect. Even if I feel like I’ve run a marathon.
“Nicola, I can’t even tell you—” his voice falters.
“I know.” I feel it too. This meant more to both of us than we’re currently capable of saying.
Tristan tries to be gentle when he pulls out, but I still wince. I’m going to be sore later, and it was one-hundred percent worth it. He’s only gone for a moment, discarding the condom in the bathroom before he comes back. This time he pulls up one of the soft blankets laying at the foot of the bed and wraps us together in it, pulling me against his chest. I’m in love with the warmth of him.
“I wish I could fall asleep here,” I say, letting myself fall a little more into drifting.
“You can,” he says.
“No, I can’t. Not if we want to avoid any questions.”
Tristan runs his hand down my back. “I’m not afraid of the questions,” he says. “If I were, I wouldn’t have come back. But I know it won’t be easy.”
I laugh. “No, it won’t be. I want to be with you for a little while before we tell anyone,” I say. “Get things settled between us before we suddenly have a lot of opinions.”
“Of course,” he says, kissing my forehead. “All I want is you. If everything else falls apart, I need you to know that.”
“Okay.” I tuck my head closer to his chest. His heart beats steadily beneath my ear, and I like the idea of hearing that for the rest of my life. He wants to marry me. That’s what he said, but it feels like too much to hope for right now. I still need to convince myself that this is real before I can convince myself that this gorgeous man wants to put a ring on my finger.
We lay together for a while before I feel him take a deeper breath. “The last thing that I want is for you to be out of my arms, but if we want to avoid questions, I should take you home.”
I sigh. “Yeah, I guess so.”
He takes the time to pull me closer, stroking his arms down my body so I get shivers and wonder if there’s any way that I can justify disappearing for a night. But no, not if I want to be careful. And for the time being, I do.
Tristan slips out from underneath the blanket and hands me my clothes a piece of time. Which is very distracting considering that he’s still incredibly naked. “You’re not helping.”
He laughs. “Am I tempting you?”
“You have no fucking idea.”
“Well, I would say you do have an idea about fucking now.”
I throw a pillow at him, laughing until I put my bra on and we both realize that I no longer have a wearable shirt. “I wasn’t exactly thinking about you leaving when I did that,” he says.
“It’s fine. I didn’t like that shirt much anyway.”
“Here.” He pulls a sweatshirt out of a drawer. “You can wear that.”
Putting on the sweatshirt is like pulling on the physical manifestation of comfort. It’s big and soft and smells like Tristan. I would bottle that scent if I could—that delicious cologne he wears and something deeper and masculine that only belongs to him. I may never take the sweatshirt off.
Neither of us really want to separate, so even as we get ready, we don’t say anything about leaving. It’s filled with small moments that make my chest ache. Tristan helps button me into my coat and pauses on the doorstep to kiss me deeply, leaving me to once again question my sanity in leaving this man’s home. He holds my hand on the drive, looking over at me and smiling whenever he can.
Finally, we pull up to my parents’ house, and never in my life have I wished so badly to live somewhere else. It’s always seemed more convenient since I wasn’t looking to date anybody, and I work at the family company. But now, that’s something I’ll be considering immediately.
“Should I risk kissing you here?” he asks.
“Please do.”
Tristan grins before leaning across the center console and taking my lips in a hard kiss—one that’s meant to tempt and linger. “You’re not helping,” I repeat.
“I’m not trying to.”
I glare at him, which only makes him laugh. And I feel words on my lips that I’m burning to say. For years I’ve wanted to. But now isn’t the time. Not here in the car. I’ll know the time. So instead I say, “See you.”
“See you,” he reflects back. But his voice is filled with longing and lust and I have to force myself out of the car and not look back as I walk toward the house. My willpower is almost zero and I can’t be sure that I won’t turn around and go back to him. I allow myself one wave when I get to the door but that’s it.