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“Tristan. Tristan Cox.” Her eyes caught mine.
“That sounds familiar…” she thought aloud.
I was glad she couldn’t place it. Usually, everyone did—well, every woman did, and it just fucked everything up in my head. But she didn’t know for sure. She wasn’t using me. Yet. My conscience was a real dick.
“Does billionaire tech engineer ring a bell?”
She looked up at me, eyes wide and curious, but still not recognizing it. “No.” She replied.
“You want to talk about my job or you want me to kiss you?”
“You’re definitely not engaged?”
“Nope, recently divorced actually. I am free agent.”
She answered by pressing her body to mine and searing her fingers through my hair. I inhaled her sweet, lilac scent before I closed the space and kissed her. It was like going back in time, to four weeks ago where I was the most relaxed I had ever been in a long time. It felt so familiar, so good, and so right—to have her lips on mine. Her body on mine, her breast swelling to my chest. She was so fucking soft and warm, the most comforting woman I ever had beneath my palms. I coaxed her lips apart, her lips gladly parted and accepted my tongue, moving with hers so furiously my cock ached.
I backed her up until we both thudded against the rough brick wall. Her knee inched up my leg, rubbing against the outside of my thigh. I took her wrist and pinned them above her head, keeping her completely at my mercy.
Our lips were a wet, heated mess. The air filled with our sharp gasps of breath because neither of us wanted to stop to breathe. I nudged my thigh between her legs, pressing up on her sex. The heat seared right through my jeans and she moaned against my mouth, bucking her hips toward mine and deepening the kiss. I bit her bottom lip ever so softly, rising a small whimper out of her. I needed to be inside her. I needed to hear her scream.
I used my other hand to inch up her shirt, feeling the smooth skin of her stomach. I never got to the last time. She was fleshy, unlike the other woman I had been with. I could grab her hips, her waist, and everything else on the way to those pert breasts. They fit perfectly in my palm, I grazed against her nipple and her breath quickened, breaking the kiss. I let my mouth go to her neck, suckling her skin, inhaling her scent. She was fucking edible. And perfect.
Damnit, I wanted her to be mine.
Chapter Eighteen
Emilia
I felt stupid and embarrassed all at the same time. I was mostly infuriated with myself by the time he had me up against that wall.
Tristan.
My body had never reacted like this to anyone. Wanted someone so much that my panties were soaked just because his mouth was on mine, my body pressed to his. I used to think my boobs were too small, but he made them feel perfect; I never wanted him to let go. When his palm closed around me, warm and calloused, it felt safe. I have never wanted to be touched that way. Owned. Taken.
Tristan.
For so long I wanted to see him again. Know his name so I would at least have something to say when I touched myself thinking of him. And then I finally saw him again and I almost ruined it. I really thought he was engaged, and I was so angry. But to know that he wasn’t, that he was not tied to anyone, made me even more scared. I was so drawn to him, and I overthink stuff so much. Always thinking ahead, but I just needed to be in this moment. Letting him take me against a wall. Again.
“Please,” as much as I enjoyed his lips on my neck, I needed them on mine.
Before I met him, I thought I had no adventure in me, no spark. Now it was like I had a thing for sex in public places. We were in an outdoor alcove. But no one could see us, really.
But they could hear us.
My fingers fumbled with his belt, finally undoing his button and zipper. I saw his cock straining against his briefs, I never saw it that night. But I felt it. How much it consumed me; how much it stretched me.
I wanted to see his body. My hands flew to his shirt, undoing the buttons so quickly I thought I would snap them off. I all but ripped it open and raked my nails down his hard, chiseled chest as his mouth devoured mine again. I let my fingers draw through the hair on his chest, not too much, but just enough to remind me that he’s all man. I followed it down as it narrowed, leading to his cock. My tongue swirled around his, tasting the mint and cinnamon of his mouth. Like a latte.
He wanted to see me too. He broke the kiss only to tug my shirt off. He pulled my bra down, making my breasts rise and my nipples poke towards him. He sucked until they were hardened peaks, so budded I thought they would fall off. They ached. My sex ached. I couldn’t play anymore.
I tugged his lips to me with my hand, and as I deepened the kiss I used the other to pull him from his briefs. He groaned into my mouth, his hips bucking and his thighs trembling. I gripped his length; his base was so thick my fingers didn’t reach. He hissed against my mouth, his jaw went slack as I pulled upwards slowly, until I reached the moisture forming at his tip. I wanted to taste him, but I needed him inside of me more.
“Fuck me, now. Please.” I whimpered. His throat drew with a growl.
“Fuck, you’re so damned sexy.” I blushed at the compliment. At least I think I did, everything was so hot.
He widened my legs, and pushed my jeans down, pulling them off of me so fast they made a whipping noise. He pushed my panties aside, his finger rolling against the folds of my sex. I shuddered, my legs quivering and my eyes lolling backwards as it brought a wave of desire right t
