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I felt her push her ass back toward me, inviting me deeper, and the beast inside roared with approval. I complied, my hips snapping forward a little harder, each thrust now punctuated with purpose. My hand found her throat, not to hurt, but to possess, fingertips pressing just enough to claim her breath as mine. With the other, I grasped a fistful of her short, dark hair, tugging gently to tilt her head back, exposing the elegant line of her neck.
“Tristan,” she whimpered beneath me, the sound laced with desire and surrender. Her vulnerability was intoxicating, and for some reason, this moment, with her trust laid bare and her body yielding to mine, it was the hottest Adriana had ever been to me.
“Tristan,” she whimpered again, her lithe frame writhing beneath me, seeking more. The sound of my name leaving her lips in such a desperate plea was nothing short of thrilling.
“Shhh...Ade,” I soothed, pressing a kiss to the curve of her neck, tasting the sweet sweat on her skin. “I won’t rush this.”
Her hands found mine, her fingers lacing through mine against the sheets as she surrendered to the overwhelming sensations. Her trust was implicit; in this moment, and in all moments to follow. And god help me if I didn’t protect it with my life.
Suddenly, the rest of the world ceased to exist for me–the ruthless mafia wars outside our doors, the violent storms raging overhead–all of it faded away into insignificance as I lost myself in Adriana. Moving within her, over her, around her, I was consumed by her. Her gasps and moans became my symphony, the rhythm of our bodies merging until there was no distinction between where I ended and she began.
“Tristan,” she gasped again. The sharp intake of breath, the quivering muscles beneath my hand – it was all too much. My control slipped, my movements becoming harsher, more desperate. I could feel her climax building again, could sense the tautness in her body as she wound tighter and tighter.
My free hand roamed down to where we were joined, fingers tracing the wet slickness that had spilled from her. She was so close now. A few more strokes...just a little more...
And then she shattered beneath me, a guttural cry tearing from her throat as waves of pleasure swept through her. It was a sheer force that hit me like a gunshot through my chest, and I was powerless to resist its pull. The sight of her, the sound of her name on my lips – it was all too much. I lost myself in her, my climax washing over me in a wave of heat and pleasure that left me gasping for breath.
I collapsed against her, both of us panting, our bodies slick with sweat and spent desire. The world outside came rushing back in - the distant rumble of thunder, the pattering rain on the roof. But nothing mattered but her shaky breath as she tried to steady her heartbeat.
Panting, she turned her head to look at me, those keen eyes clouded with lust. “I should go get cleaned up,” she said, her voice hoarse.
“Absolutely not,” I growled, the idea of separating from her unbearable. “You’re staying right here, warming me.”
Her brow furrowed, always the one to question, to challenge. “Won’t we get cold?” she asked, ever practical even now.
“Adriana,” I said, firm and unyielding, “I’m certain I want you here, against me, until I decide otherwise.” I pulled the blanket around us, cocooning our entwined bodies, holding her tight against the chill that had nothing on the heat we generated between us.
“But you’re still inside of me,” she said, sounding more surprised than annoyed.
“Good. That’s exactly where I should be,” I said.
She laughed under her breath. “Okay,” she said.
And in the silence that followed, with her body soft and pliant in my arms, I knew there was nowhere else I’d rather be. Trapped in the eye of the storm, with the woman who defied the world just to be with me.
At some point, we must have fallen asleep. When we woke up, the storm had quieted to a gentle patter against the house. My eyes fluttered open, meeting hers in the warm light of the bedroom. We were still connected, my cock nestled inside her, an intimate reminder of the night before.
She shifted slightly, and a low moan escaped her lips, echoing in the quiet room. The sound sent a jolt through me, desire instantly flaring back to life. Tristan Callahan didn’t do vulnerability often, but with her, every rule I’d ever set for myself seemed to shatter.
“Good morning,” she murmured, her voice husky with sleep and something more primal.
“Hi,” I said.
“How long did we sleep for?”
“I have no idea,” I said, then grabbed her waist. “You’re so fucking hot.”
“Again?” Her eyes sparkled with a mix of challenge and amusement.
“Can’t think of a better way to wake up,” I admitted, and without waiting for another word, I moved within her. This time it was faster, a rhythm driven by raw need – the kind that blurs the edges of the world until there’s nothing left but the two of you, crashing together like waves against cliffs.
Adriana matched me move for move, our breaths mingling, becoming ragged as we chased the crescendo. And when it came, it hit like a thunderclap, racking our bodies in unison, the kind of explosion that leaves you gasping, shuddering, shattered in the best possible way.
As I rolled off her, panting hard, her chest heaving beside me, the silence that followed was deafening compared to the storm from last night.
She turned to face me, her dark hair a wild tangle around a face flushed with the aftermath of our passion.
“Tristan,” Adriana’s voice was steady, despite the chaos of our lovemaking, “what are we going to do? How do we get out of this?”
