He doesn’t seem to mind as he watches me with fascination.
“Fuck,” he mutters, his chin jerking to the side and his body arching. I grip him more firmly. “Fuck, like that.”
And then my world is tilting and the orgasm darkens my vision at the edges, spilling over into pulses of heat through my stomach. It tightens my legs and my pussy pulses, and it’s so pleasurable it makes me shake.
“What do you need, Tristan?”
“That,” he pants, his lids heavy and his mouth parted.
“Not helpful,” I whisper. “Though I seem to remember you saying you like a little pain.” I scrape my nails over the edge of his groin and he groans hoarsely and comes. His abs contract, and hot liquid spills over my hand and onto his stomach.
“Katie.” He shudders. His dick pulses in my hand. “God, Katie.”
I ease my hand off and slide to the side, feeling warm and loose. I curl into his side and drift off to the sound of the wind and the waves.
I waketo find Tristan looking at me. His gaze is focused but gentle, then it sharpens as he realizes I’m awake. His dick is soft now, resting in the dampness on his stomach that he hasn’t cleaned. I feel deliciously heavy between my legs as I shift. My cheek is on the firm edge of his biceps, and I wonder how long he let me sleep there.
I don’t know what to say. Now that the heat of the moment is gone, uncertainty fills the void. We didn’t even talk about it beforehand. Things just spiraled from touching tomore, like idiot teenagers, except we’re not teenagers and we should know better.
Did I just ruin the best thing that’s ever happened to me?
I shut my eyes again and roll onto my back, off the arm he let me sleep on, and the loss of his warmth makes me want to cry.
A future unfurls before me. In it, I watch Tristan toast to his new wife. They kiss. It feels like someone is twisting a knife between my ribs.
I slept with him.
I want more.
He’s marrying someone else.
Oh god.
I forgot. How could I forget?
Because he makes me feel cherished. Because he just gave me the best experience I’ve ever had with a guy. Every day with Tristan Prince feels like sugar being poured directly on my tongue, like glitter is dissolving in my blood. Just like it does every time we’re in the same room, my focus narrows to him and only him, and everyone else falls away.
I have to fix this. I can’t be this girl—the cliché. The friend lusting after the hot guy who agreed to help her with men. The bodyguard falling for the principal. The help who wants the second son. That girl gets hurt. Every single time.
I shove down the panic that threatens to drown me and chance a glance at Tristan. He looks sated. Heavy lidded and content, one arm behind his head, like a drowsy, well-pleasured god.
Tristan isn’t panicking. Maybe because he’s not thinking of this like I am. I’m making more out of this than it needs to be. I need to play it cool, like he is. I take a long breath.
“Katie?” His voice is hushed. “Are you okay?”
There is only one way to salvage this.
I tip my head toward him and give him a smile. I’m not sure if it reaches my eyes.Play it cool.
“Just recovering.”
He scans my face, his expression faintly concerned. “Was that—uh—good for you?”
I nod, and a smile cracks his face. “You?”
“I think you know it was,” he teases.
I raise my brows. “Do you usually finish that fast?”
