The amount of pleasure he drew from that sound was ridiculous.
As she half-closed her eyes, he dipped his head. A jolt brought her hips up, and he had to put a hand on her thigh to steady her. He kissed her deeply again, feeling her sweet heat around him. Her legs hugged him tightly as he kept kissing her. She gasped, moaned, and writhed in a dance choreographed by passion.
When she shuddered, he scattered kisses to her inner thighs, making her feel the light graze of his teeth. He propped himself up on his elbows, needing to see her.
She was stunning. “Take your clothes off,” she whispered her command, and he didn’t think of disobeying it.
Her wide eyes stayed on him as he unbuttoned his waistcoat and shirt. His trousers slid down his legs with a yank of impatience.
“You’re magnificent,” she said.
Cool air touched his skin when he lifted his undershirt.
He even removed the bandage around his ribs but regretted it when worry lines appeared on her face.
“Oh, Tristan.” She caressed his chest with her clinical touch, but it didn’t last as she started to explore his body with curiosity.
He lay down, and her elegant hands on his chest left a path of fire on his skin. It didn’t matter that her movements weren’t expert; his body was turning into an inferno anyway. He trembled as she moved her attention south.
Each inch of him that she conquered brought a new ounce of light to his dark soul.
“I want…” The rest of her sentence was inaudible so low she talked.
“What?”
“I want to do to you what you did to me.” She blushed a fierce pink. “Guide me again.”
A stir of anticipation coursed through him like a bolt of lightning. He did as told and watched her as he gently led her down. He helped her when she dipped her head over him. When the velvety heat of her mouth closed around him, a primordial force stunned him. The sensation was too much, too intense, and too powerful.
Her soft tongue stroked him lazily, and her lips squeezed him. Like a lad at his first experience, the release came quick and merciless, intense, and absolute, like his love for her. He’d barely the time to move her away before he spilt.
She’d branded him for life. There would be no one but her.
Tristan’s mouth brushed hers. It was a gentle touch but also a deceit because it hid all his passion underneath it.
He drove his fingers through her hair and kissed her deeply. She slid her hand between them, and he couldn’t suppress a curse when she touched him again. His body was a rope taut with desire, and she easily undid him.
They tugged at her clothes together without talking, without explaining. Petticoats fell first, followed by her shoes and stockings. He paused only to caress her shapely legs and explore every curve and soft spot. How lucky he was to be able to touch her. Soft moans left her glossy pink lips as he touched her. He resumed undressing her and didn’t stop until they were skin against skin.
She clamped her legs and arms around him, holding him so tightly that even the pounding of his heart became part of her. As did his soul.
“I’ll wear a sheath,” he said.
“All right.” Pink spread across her face.
As he took the sheath out of a drawer, he gave her time to think about her choice once again.
She sat upright. Her lovely breasts bounced, and her taut nipples drew his attention. “I won’t change my mind. I want you, Tristan.”
He stretched out over her, propped on his elbows, and waited again. He would wait forever if needed.
She opened her legs further. “I’m yours, Tristan. There’s nothing I want more than to be with you.”
“You’re going to kill me with your words.” He ran a hand over her breast and rubbed her pretty nipple before sucking it into his mouth.
Her sharp intake of air made him smile against her skin. When she writhed and clenched her fists over the bedsheets, he lifted his head from her breasts.
He inched onwards as slowly as he could, watching her face closely for any signs of discomfort. Pain throbbed in his body, but he pushed it aside. The only good thing about The Octagon was that he knew how to manage the pain.
