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“I love you,” he groaned.
“I love you too.” I went back to sucking his shaft.
“You need to stop or I'll end up embarrassing myself.”
Chuckling around him, I eased back and then stood up. “Lie down.”
Tristan shifted back and laid down on a pillow. I climbed on top of him, straddling his hips. The pearl tapped me, ratcheting up my desire.
His hands moved to my thighs and squeezed me. “You're in charge tonight?”
“For a little while.”
His smile was wicked. “I'm at your mercy, Mrs. Bane.”
I leaned down and kissed him while I worked myself back and forth over his cock. When I could stand the teasing no more, I sank down slowly, taking him into me inch by inch. We both moaned at the sensation—the perfect fit, the heat, the connection that went deeper than physical.
Heartbreak pulsed between us, a quiet hum of contentment.
Rolling my hips in a slow, steady rhythm, I churned him inside me. I was so wet from his kisses and my desire our union created naughty sounds. Tristan's hands gripped my waist, guiding me, and his eyes never left mine. I leaned down and kissed him, my breasts pressing against his chest, nipples pebbling through the hearts. Sliding and kneading, his hands moved over my back.
The pleasure built slowly, a sweet ache that spread through my entire body. The pearl added to it with every drop of my hips, zings of delight flinging out from it. I could feel Tristan everywhere—inside me, around me, a part of me. We were connected in every way that mattered. It was stronger than my empathic ability, but gentler too. I could withdraw if I wanted to, or I could open our connection fully. I did, and felt Heartbreak's other half. I could sense him moving between us, down the permanent path connecting Tristan and me, carrying more than himself.
There was passion that didn't belong to me, and urges I didn't recognize. It was Tristan. I could feel his love and lust, the roiling mass of it. It responded to every fall of my hips, every slide of my hand on him, my fingers pinching his nipples. I couldn't feel his pleasure, but rather sense its magnitude and what it needed.
I welcomed the the insight and received an image. It made me shiver, and I needed to see if I was right, not imagining it. So, I rose from him, letting his cock slide free, and crawled up his body.
Eyes widening, he stared up at me as I straddled his face. “It's as if you read my mind.”
“I think I did. Open yourself to Heartbreak, and you'll see.” I lowered myself onto his mouth, and felt his groan vibrate through my sex. His mouth closed over me, his tongue lapping eagerly. Moving against him, I directed him mentally.
Tristan inhaled sharply and lifted his strokes to where I wanted them. Once there, he knew what to do, and it had me arching and grabbing my breasts, becoming a wanton thing consumed by pleasure. I let myself go, let myself receive and take what I wanted, grinding onto him.
Inside me, Heartbreak conveyed Tristan's lust, pounding it through me until the pulse of them became a throbbing in my sex, enhanced by the tapping pearl. I shuddered and fell forward to grip the headboard. Using it as leverage, I rubbed myself on him, claiming his mouth and tongue. Tristan caught my directions and held his tongue out, still, so I could use it as I needed to. I'd never felt more sexually powerful, more free. When I cried out, I did so with abandon, pushing back on the headboard.
The last shudders took me, and I moved off him to crumple onto my hands and knees, head pressed to the mattress. I wouldn't leave Tristan unfinished, but I needed a moment to recover.
Tristan made a growling sound and moved. I lifted my head to look over my shoulder, and found him positioning himself behind me, mouth wet and eyes ravenous. Shaking my hips in invitation, I also pushed a suggestion through Heartbreak—asking him not to hold back, to go as wild as I had.
A naughty grin spread across his face, and he took his cock in hand. Despite my languor, arousal twinkled in my core, and I pressed my chest to the mattress so I could reach back and spread my buttocks for him. His grin turned savage as he shoved into me. Once he was working himself in and out, I let go. A second wind found me, driving me up to my hands, and I pushed back against him.
“Destiny,” he groaned. “I've never felt so free.”
I smiled and let him feel my agreement down our bond. I'd just been thinking the very same thing earlier, and I hoped it would always be this way.
Tristan slammed into me, letting himself loose as I had, and I braced myself to take every thrust, my body singing with ecstasy and pure, bright joy. My thighs clenched, flanks shivering, and I sank into the feeling of him sinking into me—the rapid rubbing to sensitive skin, the sensual stretching, the slap of his sacs with every thrust. I felt swollen with pleasure below, and it spread to curl my toes and arch my neck.
“Tristan!” I shouted.
He could only grunt in response, his hips driving forward so hard I couldn't hold steady. As I came down from my second climax, he groaned, long and lusty, and pressed hard against me, holding me to him by my hips. Inside, his cock kicked, like a kiss goodbye. With that, he fell forward, face to my back, and wrapped his arms around me. We stayed pressed together for several seconds, his breath hot on my skin, and I knew what true bliss was.
When Tristan moved at last, the slide of his cock leaving me sent another shiver through me. He fell onto the bed beside me, and I unfolded and flopped to the bed.
“That was worth waiting for,” he said.
It took me a moment to realize he was referring to how he'd waited all day. “We didn't wait that long.”
“Long enough.” He gathered me into his arms, tucking me against his chest. “I love you. More than I ever thought I could love anyone.”