Page 16 of Tristan’s Temptation

What he found there set him on fire.

She was damp—he noticed that right away with a visceral thrust to his gut. Cream coated the skin of her inner thighs, making his approach slick and quick. But there was more. As he tangled with the soft curly hairs—brave sentries protecting the tender flesh of her pussy—he realized, under her prim and proper skirt she was utterly bare.

His response was feral.

Shannon whimpered as Tristan’s caress drifted up her thigh and skated across her clit. She knew the second he realized she wasn’t wearing any panties because his body, already hard and throbbing, went rigid. He hissed a sharp invective and lowered his mouth to her ear, nibbling sharply.

“Jesus, Shannon,” he growled, madly yanking up the length of her skirt so he could bare her completely to his gaze. “Jesus.”

His hand was hot and hard on her ass. He squeezed it again, this time flesh to flesh. The harsh tug sent sensation rocketing through her, making her clit swell even more.

She’d wanted this for so long. Dreamed of this. Ached for this. How many times had she come to her own touch, imagining it was Tristan’s hand upon her?

She was suddenly impatient for him. Wild for him.

As his caress drifted down to dance across her pussy again, she arched back at him, pleading for more.

“Touch me,” she begged, and he complied, edging closer, stroking her slick lips, nudging her engorged clit. Her body tensed with pleasure. “Ah! Yes.”

“You’re so wet.” His voice was hard, hungry.

“You make me wet.”

He froze at her words but only for a heartbeat. With a small growl, he drew back, away from her clit, and slipped his fingers deep into her pussy instead.

Shannon whimpered with bliss. The sensation of fullness, of warmth, made her knees buckle.

He was not unmoved either. “Jesus. You’re so tight.” A slightly strangled whisper.

She squeezed her muscles around him and he groaned.

God, she wanted him. She had for so long. She could barely believe she was here like this with him. That he was touching her like this. That he was standing behind her, hard and hot. Panting in her ear. She loved it.

But she wanted more.

“Fuck me, Tristan. I want your cock inside me.”

A fierce shudder racked his body. Without a word, he set the tip of his cock to her opening. He pressed in and she winced. He was enormous. Fat, thick and long—she knew, she’d measured him with her mouth. Thank God he was a moderately patient man. He took her in tiny increments, rubbing her clit and massaging her hard nipples until her muscles opened to allow him more of her.

By the time he was fully seated within her, she was whimpering and sobbing with pleasure. He touched her everywhere, massaged every twitching nerve in her pussy. His heat, his throbbing length, seared her to the core.

“Please,” she moaned. “Please. Please.”

He withdrew and she tried not to clench against him but failed. He growled in response to the sucking sensation and eased back in. It was quicker this time because her body was learning his breadth but the internal friction against her sensitive tissues made her tremble. She could feel the coming orgasm but was helpless to slow or control its onset. By the time he thrust into her for the third time, she was lost, quivering and quaking and moaning as bliss washed through her.

But he wasn’t done. Not by a long shot.

After her orgasm, her muscles relaxed and the walls of her pussy became slack. Tristan took full advantage. He started moving a little faster, and faster still until finally he was rocketing in and out of her with wild abandon. She could hear his grunts and groans, his agonized hiss as she came, once again, around him, sucking at his straining cock.

And then she felt something she never expected. His cock, as thick and hard as it was, swelled a little more and stiffened like a pike. His movements became more frantic, more determined. Each thrust was like a pile driver inside her, nudging at her womb as he neared his climax.

When he came—one hot jetting stream of semen after another—he flooded her canal, filling her with the most amazing sense of contentment she’d ever experienced. Drained, he collapsed on top of her, his cock still wedged within her. She squeezed a little, reflexively perhaps—she couldn’t help it, he felt so good inside her—and an aftershock rocked her.

He groaned and angled up and away. His cock slipped out, leaving a wet trail along her inner thigh. Shannon stood and righted her skirt.

“God, Shannon,” he rasped. “That was phenomenal.”

“It was.” They shared a tangled glance, reflecting on the perfection of their mating.