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No, if he was smart he’d get up and go to bed right now, instead of wondering what she would do if he reached up and released her silky mass of hair from the confines of her hair tie. If he was smart he’d be questioning this need to comfort her and touch her rather than just going along with it as if he had a right to do those things.
‘Not always,’ he acknowledged, feeling the air between them thicken as he tried to ignore her soft hands on his chest. ‘You need to stop doing that.’
He heard the hitch in her breathing at his growled words and the sound sent a jolt of lust to his already hardened groin.
Or…?’
He clenched his teeth against the invitation apparent in that one tiny word. ‘There is no “or”.’
>
‘Why not?’
‘Lily, your emotions are running high.’
She looked him square in the eye, her purple gaze luminous despite her reddened eyelids. ‘And yours aren’t running at all?’
He needed her to stop looking at him as if he was better than he was. ‘That’s not emotion, sweetheart—that’s sex. And the two should never be confused.’
‘Believe me, I know that.’ She expelled a shaky breath but didn’t remove her hand. Instead she slid it further up his chest and ran the tip of her finger underneath the crew neck of his sweater, along his clavicle.
‘Lily—’
‘I want to make love with you.’
Tristan wanted that too—but could he risk it?
She’d noticed his hesitation and her eyes had clouded over.
‘Sorry. I—Look, if you don’t want to I’ll understand…’
‘Don’t want to!’ His hands felt unsteady as they automatically reached out to stop her from getting up. ‘Lily, you drive me crazy.’
She shot him a surprised look and he nearly laughed. Didn’t she know the effect she had on him? Didn’t she know why he had stayed away from her for four days? Why he should have stayed away tonight as well…?
‘I do?’
‘Oh, yeah.’ His hot gaze swept down over her tear-smudged face, baggy T-shirt and worn sweatpants. ‘Stir crazy…’ he whispered.
He felt her tentative hands creep into his hair, and groaned when she leaned in and placed her soft, full mouth against his own. Oh, God, this was heaven—and he couldn’t fight both of them.
He cupped her face briefly, deepening the kiss and sealing his mouth to hers. He flipped her over on the settee and shoved his hands under her T-shirt. She moaned and arched into his hands, and Tristan felt like a starving man being offered a king’s dinner. He yanked her T-shirt up and fastened his lips on one pert breast, tugging at her sweet flesh, licking, sucking, drowning in the aroused perfume of her body.
‘Tristan!’
Her loud gasp and uncontrolled writhing fed his urgent need, and he attacked her sweatpants and panties and drew them down her legs, frustrated when they became tangled.
He sat up and pulled them all the way off, and then knelt on the floor in front of her, not even caring that the floorboards were hard on his knees. He parted her thighs so that he could feast on her in a way that had kept him hard for more nights than he cared to count, but he stopped when he felt her stiffen.
‘Tristan…’
Her voice was uncertain, and he remembered that she had been a virgin until a few nights ago and that maybe no one had ever done this for her before.
His hands instantly gentled on her inner thighs, and his fingers massaged her silken skin until he felt her muscles lose their rigidity.
‘Take down your hair,’ he whispered softly, gazing at her breasts rising beneath her T-shirt with her movement. A soft cloud of pure gold swirled around her shoulders and he inhaled deeply. ‘Now the T-shirt.’
His thumbs kept stroking her inner thighs, slowly drawing them further apart, and he could feel tiny shivers of anticipation running along the surface of her skin. His own skin felt hot and tight, and it got even worse when she swept the grey T-shirt up over her head. Her breasts were standing proudly for his inspection, her nipples hardening into tight pink buds. Saliva pooled in his mouth at the thought of reaching up and capturing one, but he had other endeavours on his mind.
