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Lila pulled her hands and mouth away. “What do—”
He didn’t even stop to explain. He tossed her under him on the bed and slid inside her, thrusting quick and hard.
Three times.
She only needed two.
They moaned together, a harmonious little tune, played quietly so as not to disturb anyone but the players.
“Fuck,” Tristan said as he flopped onto the bed beside her. “That was supposed to last longer. A lot longer.” He hid his face under his arm and grabbed himself absently, trying to inspire his cock to come back to life. “Fuck.”
“We could try again.”
Tristan peered out from under his arm, and Lila laughed. She’d never seen him look so dejected. “You’re good with your mouth. Too good.”
“You’re good with yours as well. Your fingers, too.”
Lila traced her finger from his chin and across his throat, grinning as his body jerked to meet it. She snaked down his chest, down his navel, and trailed toward his cock. A shiver ran along his skin. Her fingers drifted along his shaft languidly as though she were nearly bored.
“Hello,” he said, turning his head at his erection. “That usually lasts longer too. I think he likes you.”
“I like him too.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.” She climbed atop him, spreading her legs and guiding his cock into her. “It’s my turn.”
“My turn didn’t last as long as I would have—”
“Tough.” She chuckled as he gripped the headboard.
She thrust her hips, tilting and bobbing as if in a dance. Warm, strong hands gripped her waist, and he joined in, both hearing the same tune, louder this time, and fiercer. She covered his hands with hers, enjoying the feel of him, enjoying the strong grip, the pumping.
The determination on his face, as though he wanted to last for hours this time.
She bit back a chuckle as she came, arching her back as he pumped.
Her moans were not joined. Instead he rolled her on the bed. His tongue entered her mouth, and he thrust inside her, his hands tracing her thighs as she curled her legs around his waist, squeezing as he pumped over and over again, both of them pressing their bodies together in a crush of hips and a mixing of tongues and limbs.
He got what he wanted in the end. He lasted while she came again in quiet moans.
Lifting her head, she sucked on his ear. “Come for me, Tristan,” she whispered.
It was calling him by name that did it. He moaned softly in her ear while he spent himself inside her.
Chapter 20
Lila yawned and groggily sat up, her motion greatly retarded by the pair of arms fixed around her waist. She wormed out of Tristan’s grip and slithered onto the floor, digging through a few stray pillows and extra sheets for her vibrating palm. It was likely Commander Sutton, calling with some bit of militia business that needed Lila’s touch, an heir who had been placed in a holding cell in lieu of an arrest, the lenience of another heir demanded and required.
Screw that. They’d picked the wrong night for it. She didn’t care if it was Jewel in a holding cell. She’d see them hanged for disturbing her, for disturbing this…whatever it was going on between her and Tristan.
Lila turned back around, eyeing her bedmate. Given the sleepy frown on his face, Tristan felt the same way. He ran a finger down her shoulders in silent protest and let her fumble with the knotted sheets on the floor, sore and annoyed.
When she turned on a light, both winced.
And snuck peeks at one another.
Tristan threw back the covers so she’d get a better view.
