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We’re face to face now. Chest to chest. Nowhere to hide.

Tristan’s hands settle on my hips, guiding me as he starts moving again. I meet him halfway, rolling my hips down to take every thick inch. The rhythm is deep and slow. Every upward thrust from him and downward roll from me makes the bed creak softly. My cock, already hard again, bounces between us with every movement, leaking steadily onto his stomach.

“Look at you,” Tristan murmurs, voice rough and low. His eyes never leave mine. “Riding my cock like you were made for it.”

Heat floods my face, but I don’t look away. I can’t.

“So fucking perfect,” he continues, thrusting up harder. “I love the way you take every inch of my cock, spitfire.”

The filthy praise sinks into me like another kind of touch. I moan against his mouth as he pulls me into another kiss. It’s slower this time, deeper, full of shared breath and soft grunts. Our bodies move together in a steady, desperate rhythm. Skin against skin. The wet slide of him inside me. The quiet, intimate sounds we make into each other’s mouths.

This feels different.

Deeper than just heat. More intimate than anything we’ve done before. Every time our eyes lock, something tightens in my chest. Every time he whispers another possessive praise against my lips, the feeling grows heavier.

I’m not just being fucked.

I’m being seen.

“Tristan…” His name leaves me in a shaky breath as I roll my hips down harder, meeting another deep thrust. My cock slides against his stomach, the friction making my vision blur at the edges.

“Yes, baby,” he murmurs against my mouth, voice thick with need. “Keep taking me. Just like that. You’re mine.”

I lean down until my mouth is right against his ear, my voice low and rough with everything I haven’t been saying for years.

“You’re mine too, you know that?”

Our eyes meet, and something flashes in his. His grip on my hips tightens, fingers digging into my skin hard enough to bruise.

“Yeah?” he challenges, voice low and rough as he thrusts up to meet me. “You think so?”

“I know so,” I say, my voice shaky but certain. “You’re mine. Your cock is mine. These hands—” I grab one of his wrists and press it harder against my hip. “Are mine. You don’t get to touch anyone else. You don’t get to look at anyone else the way you look at me. And if anyone tries—”

“You’ll what?”

“I’ll make them regret it.”

This time around he smiles. A slow, dangerous one that pulls his dimple into view. My heart does something stupidly tender at the sight of it. I’ve always loved that dimple. He surges up and crashes his mouth against mine, kissing me hard and messy while he drives up into me with more force.

“You’re out of your fucking mind,” he growls against my lips, but there’s no real anger in it. Only heat and something darker. “Acting like you own me.”

“I do,” I breathe, meeting every thrust, chasing the deep, perfect length of him. “And you own me. You’ve owned me for years. Don’t act like you don’t know.”

Tristan’s hand slides up and wraps around my throat again, firm and possessive. He holds me there as he fucks up into me, eyes locked on mine.

“You’re damn right I own you,” he says, voice dark and absolute. “This body. This hole. This fucking heart of yours. All of it is mine alone.”

The words hit harder than any threat could. I moan against his mouth, bouncing harder on his cock, chasing more of that overwhelming fullness. My cock still sliding against his stomach, slick and aching, the friction hot enough to make my thighs tremble.

I’m so close it feels like I’m hovering on the edge of something that might break me. Tristan’s hands tighten on my hips. His eyes stay locked on mine, dark and hungry.

“Yeah, come for me baby,” he growls, voice rough and filthy. “I know you want to. I can feel it. Use my body like one of your canvases. Paint that cum all over me.”

A broken sound leaves my throat. He’s insane. Completely unhinged and so fucking hot it makes my head spin.

“Just like that,” he continues, thrusting up deeper, guiding me down onto him. “Keep going, spitfire. I need you to give me all of it. Spill it all over me. I want to feel it.”

The words push me over the edge.