“Tell me I’m better than anyone else. Tell me you want me.”
“Yes,” she gasps. “Better than anyone. Best I’ve ever had—yes, take off my shirt.”
I lift her shirt and tug down her bra until her small tits are free. My mind blanks.So pretty.Round and high and with those tight nipples that beg for my tongue.
My lips close around one without conscious thought.After all, they were begging, I reason, before tasting the other.
I hear a groan and realize it’s coming from me.
“God, Tristan.” Her voice is shuddering. Her hands are under my shirt, tracing fire over my stomach. “The way you feel.”
“The wayyoufeel.”
“Your body.” She rolls her hips.
Our harsh gasps mingle.
“Yours.”
She’s arching against the wall, and I’ve never been so grateful for her strength before, because her abs are flexed, and somehow, she’s able to defy gravity as I palm her ass and let my tongue travel south. She slowly slides down the plaster as I sink to my knees.
Her hands are in my hair, and she’s panting as I push her shorts down. She slides her underwear off with trembling hands.
“Nervous?” I look up at her. “Do I make you nervous?”
She shakes her head, smiling. “I want you.” Her voice is breathless. “More than I have ever wanted anything. It makes me feel insane, actually.” She laughs softly. Her fingers twine in my hair.
“I think I’m already there.” We share a grin. I lick up her thigh, then down the crease. “I’m halfway to madness because it feels like the universe took my fantasies and gave them form.” I press a kiss to her hipbone. “I know that can’t be true, because I was designed with you in mind. Not the other way around.”
Her eyes go heavy lidded and I slide my tongue over her clit. Anyone who doesn’t like going down on a woman is out of their god damn minds because I could live off this. I grip her hips and I lick her, all salt and heat andKatie. I register every twitch of muscle under her skin and every sound from her mouth as I savor her. It’s not neat and pretty. It’s messy and delightful. My tongue inside her and her wetness on my chin and her hands in my hair, tight enough to hurt, hips rocking against my face.
She’s making sounds and I dimly register that I’m making them too. We sound feral. I never expected this. She’s letting go for me. This woman, who leashes herself sotightly, is letting herself fall apart for me, and I feel like the king of the world.
She comes quickly, squeezing the tongue I have stuffed inside her, gasping and arching. I lick my lips as I stand, pride and need rushing through me in equal parts.
“Get upstairs,” she demands.
57
KATIE
We pound up the stairs, shucking our remaining clothing as we go. I laugh as Tristan slams into the wall while removing his shorts. He grins as I nearly trip trying to open his bedroom door before him. And then we’re in his bedroom, which is delightfully chaotic and so Tristan that it stabs me briefly in the chest. There are piles of papers on his bedside table, a huge bed with white linens, and enough books by the bed that I’m certain he reads in here.
When I kiss him, it’s less frantic. We took the edge off downstairs, and here, in his bedroom, the gravity of the moment spills through me. This isn’t boat sex or against a wall sex. It’s Tristan’s bedroom sex. There’s a shadow of vulnerability in his gaze, so I kiss him again. I taste myself on his tongue and it’s not weird or gross but affirming.
I slide my hands up his stomach and over his chest and down his arms and he sighs and shudders under me. His head tilts so I can press kisses to his throat, suck on his pulse, bite at his collarbones. Desire rises dizzyingly insideme. My fingers clutch at his shoulders. My nips turn into bites that make him groan.
I want to mark him. I want to claim him.
When he pushes me onto the bed, I twist so I can crawl over him. My hands are on the thick muscle of his chest. His eyes are heavy lidded as he watches me, and I feel impossibly sexy at the way his gaze roves over me, like he doesn’t know where to look first.
“Katie,” he breathes.
I bend down as he surges up and our lips meet. Our tongues slide and our breaths mingle, and the kiss spirals until I’m grinding myself over his erection. He grips my hips as I kiss him, and then I’m slipping wetly over his cock and he’s panting against my neck.
“Perfect,” he says huskily. His fingers pinch my nipple and I arch.
“Perfect?”
