“Tristan,” I beg. My hand slips into his hair to tug his mouth from my neck. “Tristan, please.”
His eyes are hazy and his mouth is swollen, and he’s never looked sexier. He blinks slowly. “Take it slow.”
“I am not taking it slow. I feel like this for the first time ever.”
He laughs softly, then claims my mouth.
Confident girls ask for what they want.Turns out I didn’t need the advice; I just needed to be with Tristan.
“Get on the dock,” I pant against his lips. I claim the bottom one for myself briefly before I hiss, “Tristan, get on the fucking dock.” I slip out of the cage of his arms and stroke for the dock. He’s faster, hauling himself up in an impressive ripple of muscle, then helping me up too, grinning at me.
He eases us back onto the wood and props an arm behind his head. His biceps flexes in a smooth, mouthwatering curve. I set my mouth to it, and he chuckles. His skin is salty and smooth, and I bare my teeth gently against the taut edge.
“What the hell, Tristan?”
His hands are on my ribs, grasping hungrily for more, like he wants to gather me up and drown in me.
“Yeah,” he rasps. His fingers roll my right nipple. Stars burst behind my eyes. “What the hell is right.”
I feel my control slipping away, can feel myself melting and my thoughts scattering. I trail my mouth over his shoulder and down his chest. He shudders under me. Itest the give of his chest muscles, the hard curve of his waist.
“Katie.” He urges me up. “Katie, I need you to help me.”
I let him lift me until our gazes meet. I’m sitting on his hips. He’s hard against his stomach when I look down, thick and gently curved.
“With that?”
He lets out a breathless huff of laughter. His thumbs dig restlessly into my hips. “It’ll get more impressive as I warm up, trust me.”
It’s my turn to laugh, giddy and airless. “I think it’s impressive enough.” I skate my index finger up the edge of his cock, and he makes a bitten-off sound of want.
“God, Katie.” His eyes are heavy. “This is what I need help with. I need to go slow.”
“I don’t want slow,” I start to say.
“No, sweetheart, you don’t understand.”
His hand spans my stomach before his thumb traces down, hovers over my clit. We both watch as his thumb parts my pussy. My lids drop at the soft twist of need that goes through me.
“What don’t I understand?”
He strokes me, circling my clit with his thumb, gently, then faster. My hips seek his hand with every motion.
“How much I want you, Katie,” he rasps. “How fast I’ll finish.”
I shudder. “I don’t mind.”
“Good,” he breathes. “That’s good. I’m going to come like this.”
I shift, riding his hand now as the pleasure curls and flutters inside me. It feels like sparks are going off inside me when he presses the heel of his palm against my clit.
I scrape my nails over his stomach. His jaw clencheswhen my fingers circle his dick. It pulses in my hand. I want to make this good for him too.
“Katie,” he grits. “I’m serious. I will come and I want you to get there first.”
“I will,” I pant, rising on his hand, pushing myself against him, taking, taking, taking in a way I never have before. I don’t feel ashamed. I don’t wonder if Tristan likes it.
I can tell how much he likes it by the way his neck cords and half curses slip between his lips. I’m stroking him, but messily, faltering every time he edges me higher.
