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Tristan sucked in an uneven breath and lowered both hands to cup her bottom, lifting her into him. ‘Put your legs around my waist,’ he instructed gruffly, and Lily blindly obeyed as the velveteen tip of his body nudged against the very centre of hers.
The back of his neck was taut and sweaty and Lily’s head fell forward and she nipped at his salty skin. He must have liked it, because with a sound that was part pain, part pleasure, he tilted her body towards him and surged into her in one single, powerful thrust.
For a second the world stopped, and then Lily registered a harsh cry and realised she must have bitten down on Tristan’s neck—hard—as her body initially resisted his vigorous invasion.
He swore viciously and instantly stilled, reefing his head back and cupping her face in one hand to pull her eyes to his.
‘Honey, please tell me this isn’t your first time.’
Lily felt the momentary sting pass as her body stretched to accommodate his fullness, and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck.
‘Don’t stop,’ she breathed as her body completely surrendered to his and tiny sparks of pleasure returned between her thighs.
She shifted to try and elevate the feeling, but Tristan’s fingers dug into her hips to keep her still. ‘Wait. Let your body adjust to me.’
‘It has,’ she insisted, and felt his slightly damp hair brush her face as he shook his head.
‘Please, Tristan, I need to—’
He rocked against her and Lily moaned the word move as if it had six syllables.
Tristan eased in and out of her body gently, and then with more urgency, and Lily’s brain shut down. All she could do was feel as a thrilling tightness swept through her and urged her on. Then Tristan moved one hand up between their bodies and lightly stroked his thumb over her nipple, and Lily’s world splintered apart as pleasure clamped her body to his.
Tristan swore again, and thrust into her with such force all Lily could do was wrap her arms around his neck and hang on as he claimed her body with his and reached his own nirvana.
After what felt like an hour Lily became conscious of how her uneven breathing was pressing her newly sensitised breasts into the soft hair on Tristan’s chest, and also of how hard the wall was behind her—despite the fact that Tristan had curled his arm around her back to take the brunt of the pressure.
She was also conscious that Tristan still had his mouth buried against her neck, his lips pressed lightly against her skin as he tried to regulate his own breathing.
Her arms were slung laxly over his shoulders and a feeling of utter contentment enveloped her. A sense of euphoria was curling through her insides like warm chocolate syrup.
It was madness. This inexplicable feeling of completeness that swelled in her chest. But maybe it was because she’d had a life-changing experience. And she had. Nothing had prepared her for what had just happened. No song. No movie. No book. And she knew she’d remember this moment for ever.
But even through her high she could discern that Tristan wasn’t feeling the same way. He was unnaturally still, his breathing too laboured, as if he was having trouble composing himself. She shifted then, and the hardness of the wall scraped her skin. The air was slightly chilly now, as the sweat started to dry on her body. She shivered, still supported by his strong arms. Muscles she’d never felt before contracted around his hardness, still buried deep inside her, and she flinched as he cursed.
He pulled out of her, gently lowering her to the parquetry floor, stepping back. A look of abject disgust lined his face.
The shock of it made Lily recoil, and she quickly dropped her eyes and dragged her crumpled dress into place.
She heard him readjust his own clothing, and a primeval survival instinct she had honed as a child took root inside as she blanked out the feeling of utter desolation that threatened to overwhelm her for the first time in years.
‘Don’t say anything,’ she ordered, knowing that the best form of defence was attack, and was mildly surprised when shock replaced the revulsion she had seen on his face.
Good. She might not be as practised as he was in these postsex matters, but pride demanded that she did not behave like the bumbling fool she now felt.
For him this was just run of the mill but for her it was—
‘Don’t say anything?’ he all but bellowed. ‘You should have told me you were a virgin.’
Never let ‘em know you care, Honeybee.
She looked at him levelly. ‘
It slipped my mind.’ In truth she had hoped he wouldn’t notice. But that seemed like a stupid notion in hindsight, given his size. ‘And you wouldn’t have believed me anyway, would you?’
He glanced to the side and it was all the answer Lily needed. Of course he wouldn’t have—when had he ever believed her? Something tight clutched in her chest and she toed on the shoe that had fallen off when her legs had been wrapped around his lean hips.
‘I didn’t use a condom,’ he said, the bald statement bringing her eyes back to his.
