Corrupt Me

Chapter 20

twenty

I heard his sharp inhale right before our lips touched. His body went rigid for a breath or two, and all I could think was had I made a mistake? Would he push me away? I’d only been selfishly thinking about me, what I wanted, what I needed.

What if Tristan didn’t want me?

But then his hand shoved into my hair, cupping the back of my head as he crushed his lips against mine. My heart lurched in my chest at the pressure of his mouth. “Ever,” he groaned into the kiss.

The gravelly texture of my name flooded my veins with a surge of warmth and something stronger. Much stronger. Lust like I’d never experienced. Not from a kiss. Not from anything.

My fingers curled around the nape of his neck, teasing the dark strands of his hair. Touching him, even something so simple, was electric, sending little heady shivers of what I felt could only be womanly power. The way his lips hungered for mine as if he’d been as starved for me as I was for him gave me a sense of confidence I desperately needed. Whether he did so intentionally or not didn’t matter. He had no idea what it meant to me even if it would be a short-term reprieve from the madness.

His tongue stroked my lips, urging them apart as the tip of his fingers grazed the side of my breast. I gasped, and his tongue slipped inside my mouth, touching mine with a wickedness that curled my toes.

When I kissed him, I hadn’t thought beyond feeling his lips against mine. But now…

Heaven, this feels so right.

Apparently, Tristan wasn’t having the same light bulb realization I was. His lips tore away from mine, but he didn’t move, his choppy breaths mingling with mine as our chests rose and fell heavily in sync. “What are you doing?” he demanded, but he’d already shown me how affected he’d been by our kiss.

My head angled to the side, my gaze drawn to his unbelievably soft lips. I had to have another taste. And another. I wanted to taste them all night or for what hours we had left before the sun crested. I licked my lips, sampling the remnants of himself he left on me. Nothing tasted fucking sweeter than Tristan. “I thought it was pretty obvious,” I countered.

The fingers in my hair tightened. A warning? A struggle? Both perhaps because I wasn’t sure he knew what was going on inside himself. “This isn’t what you need. Sex isn’t the answer,” he muttered lowly, the depths of his blue eyes like a churning storm.

Kernels of frustration twirled through me. “How would you know what I do or don’t need? For once, will you stop thinking you know what’s best for me and let me decide? I know what I want,” I murmured, kissing the corner of his mouth where his lip ring glimmered. The metal cooled my slightly swollen mouth.

Behind his eyes, an internal war brewed, and I was determined to sway the odds in my favor. For once, I wanted to be selfish and put myself first. This might not be the opportune situation to grow lady balls, but I promised myself I would find out who Everly Scott was in college.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Shortcake.” The fingers in my hair yanked my head back to get his point across and instill a grain of fear within me.

He failed.

If anything, his warning made me want this night with him more. I needed Tristan to take me to the edge. For so many years, this tension had swirled around us. It was past time to break it even if it was only for tonight. Even if things weren’t the same between us. At least I’d no longer have to wonder, which could be risky. I could be disappointed, or I could be left craving more.

One night.

Did I deserve one night of pleasure? Of recklessness? Of thoughtless bliss? A pardon from the chaos in my head? The self-blame? The heartache? The anger? Oh, the fucking rage that simmered in my blood.

These were my college years. If there was ever a time to be young, carefree, and explorative, it was now.

But the look on Tristan’s face didn’t give me reassurance.

Oh god. He’s going to reject me. He’s going to get out of this bed and leave me alone.

Ribbons of panic cut through me.

Had I just embarrassed myself on levels of epic portions?

I steeled myself for the sting of his refusal. “Would you prefer I chose some other guy?” I shot back. I didn’t dare bring up Preston—refused to let my mind think of him. “I’m sure there’s someone I can?—”

He swooped in, taking hot possession of my lips in a kiss that stole the air from my lungs. It took me more than a few moments to recover, and then everything in me responded. My control spun wildly, slipping easily out of my grasp, tumbling into a world of passionate kisses, desperate hands, and thrilling unknowns.

Tristan pulled me into his lap at dizzying speeds. Seconds ticked before I comprehended the change in our positions. I sat in Tristan’s lap, my legs straddling him on either side as his hands cupped my ass.

Not once had his mouth strayed from mine, our kiss never broken by his movements. Skills. Tristan had mad kissing abilities, and I felt fucking heady to have him use them on me. If the power of his lips were any indication of what was to come, I was in for the night of my life.

But he wasn’t the only one with a few surprises.

I had one of my own.

One I wasn’t sure how he would feel about.

So I kept it to myself for fear Tristan would summon his unyielding control and put a stop to this before it had a chance to go past PG-rated levels.

And I very much wanted to get R-rated with Tristan Malone.

God, how are his lips so damn soft?

His fingers trailed down my spine, heat seeping through the thin T-shirt and spawning need between my legs, my nails digging into his neck as I pressed deeper into him.

The bulge straining against his sweatpants hardened, and I sighed at the feel of him so close to my core, the aching pulse there intensifying.

Once I discovered the wonder of rubbing against his erection, I chased that feeling again and whimpered at the friction created by our bodies. Desire shredded my common sense. Preston had never come close to making me feel even a fraction of what his brother managed with our clothes still on.

That was about to change. I had to have my hands on his bare skin.

My fingers went to the hem of his shirt, inching the gray material up his torso, my nails skimming over the flat, rippling surface. His muscles twitched, and an addictive rush flushed over my skin. I liked knowing my touch affected him. I liked it too damn much.

“You’re going to kill me,” he growled against my throat, sucking, licking, biting, and kissing the sensitive spot.

Arching the column of my neck to give him more access, I nearly purred at the sensations he orchestrated. Infecting me with his savage kiss, he sucked at my neck, and I knew it was going to leave a mark—a vampire’s kiss, and yet, I didn’t care. He branded me, and oddly, I wanted to reciprocate and leave a mark of my own. I wanted to claim him, a possessiveness I shouldn’t be feeling.

Tristan wasn’t mine. This was a temporary thing.

I’d have to get my head on straight when the high vanished.

But until then…

Securing his hand under my backside, Tristan flipped me onto my back. His hands captured my wrists, trapping my body under his as he held me prisoner. Never had I wanted to be taken hostage so much in my life. Or maybe I just wanted to be taken.

His head dipped, taking my earlobe into his mouth. Forgetting he held my wrists, I tried to move, my fingers eager to explore the tattooed chest splayed out before me, but I was only met with resistance.

“Tristan.” I moaned his name, a partial plea to release me.

A lock of dark hair fell forward, slashing across his forehead. My fingers itched to brush it aside, but it wasn’t possible given my current position. “Tell me what you want. I’ll only give you what you ask for, Shortcake.”

There was something stupidly hot about being at Tristan Malone’s mercy and having him willing to put my needs above his. This side of Tristan contradicted everything his reputation stood for.

Should I tell him to release me? But as I stared into his eyes darkened with desire, I didn’t want to be set free. Not yet. Not until Tristan showed me more. “I want everything,” I murmured. “Please. Make me forget.” I took his lip ring into my mouth, sucking gently, before nipping him with my teeth.

I wanted to feel something real. Something good. Something that made me feel alive.

Was sex the right way to go about dealing with the rawness churning inside me? Probably not, but it only took that one kiss to know I wanted nothing more than to burn alive with the fire Tristan fueled.

“I’ll corrupt you, Shortcake. You don’t want this. You don’t want me.” Yet even as he said the words, his mouth moved to my budded nipple poking through the shirt. He circled the peak with his teeth before applying a bit of pressure.

My hands fisted in blissful pleasure, wetness pooling between my legs. Holy. Shit. “I do. I really fucking do.” I’d always wanted him. How could he not see that? “Corrupt me, Tristan,” I begged.

He groaned, eyes like twilight ensnaring me. “You can’t say something like that to me. I won’t have any qualms about sleeping with you. In the morning, I won’t regret what happened, but you might.”

“So suddenly you’re chivalrous? Suddenly you have morals? Don’t take me for a fool. I’m my own person. I make my own decisions. And my own mistakes. They’re mine to make. You can’t always protect me. Not even from yourself.”

“You understand what this is. I need it to be clear between us. No strings or attachments,” he stated bluntly.

I didn’t blink. “I got it. Just sex. It’s all I want. To feel something.” And somehow the only person who could make me feel anything was Tristan. “Unless you don’t want me,” I whispered, my chin lifting, bracing myself.

“You’ve got to be kidding. If you can’t tell how much I want you, Shortcake, then I need to step up my game.” He took one of my hands, the other still pinned above my head, and placed it over his erection, keeping his hand on top of mine. “Does this feel like I don’t want you?”

Since my hand was there and I’d been contemplating touching him for too long, I wrapped my fingers around his hard shaft. He was huge. Too big for my small hand, but Tristan didn’t seem to care.

His forehead pressed against mine, his eyes closing as a look of almost tortured pleasure descended on his features. “Christ, Ever.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

His deep-blue eyes flew open. “Not on your fucking life. I don’t think I could handle the pain.”

“Why would it hurt?” The question came out before my brain registered the inexperience it showed.

A rough chuckle escaped him, his rumbling chest rubbing against my nipples. “It seems you have much to learn.”

He had no idea.

Tristan moved his hand away, giving me the freedom to explore. I teased the flesh above the waistband of his sweatpants before slipping a curious hand inside. At first, I gently felt the length of him with my fingers, marveling at the silky texture of his skin. His eyes were on me, watching me touch him, and although tendrils of self-consciousness stirred, they were overwhelmed by curiosity and this craving I had for him. When I wrapped my fingers around him and began to move my hand, Tristan’s eyes closed in blatant arousal.

Preston and I might have never gone all the way, but we had messed around, so I wasn’t completely naive when it came to knowing what to do; however, learning what drove Tristan crazy was thrilling in a different way. Heightened. More sensual. Every stroke of my hand didn’t just give him pleasure but me as well. Something I hadn’t experienced with Preston. It had felt more like a chore, something I’d been required to do as his girlfriend.

Another red flag I failed to acknowledge.

I took a moment to take in the ink on his chest, the sculptured form of his body, and his lethal yet breathtaking face as my hands worked him over. His features were stunningly handsome in a dangerous, stormy way with untamed beauty. No one would think he came from money at first glance, which added to his appeal. I loved and admired that he didn’t flaunt his wealth, well, his parents’ money because it was really Anna and Blaine’s money. Preston carelessly tossed around his parents’ money. But not Tristan. He spent too much time at odds with Blaine.

My name broke from him in a raspy groan as he pulled my hand away, twining our fingers together.

I glanced up at him questionably. “Did I do something wrong?”

“Fuck no. But I want to be inside you when I come.” His eyes were dark, darker than I’d ever seen them, and my already steamy blood rose in temperature, my heart fluttering at the idea I did that to him.

Me.

I swallowed, color rising into my cheeks. Tristan? Inside me? Dear god. It was one thing to dream about having sex with him and quite another to be in the throes of it.

I’d be lying if I said a part of me wasn’t afraid. Not of Tristan but the act itself. I didn’t want to do anything wrong. And if I was being honest, I didn’t want him to know how inexperienced I really was.

Easing to the side, he released my hands, allowing his fingers to trace along my side, pausing only when he got to the hem of my shirt. “I’ve thought about seeing you like this for too long. Even knowing I had no right. I still don’t have a right, but it won’t stop me from taking you, Shortcake.”

Holy. Hell. I had no words. I had no idea different levels of need could exist.

He bent his head and worked my shirt over my stomach, pressing his lips below my belly button and then above. The shirt continued to move up under his fingers. I raised slightly off the bed to rid myself of the barrier completely.

Nothing prepared me for the feel of Tristan’s skin against mine or for the little electric currents that danced along my flesh like wisps of sparking lightning.

He admired my body, and his adoration didn’t make me want to cover up. He made me feel wickedly sexy and beautiful. He made me feel like a woman. Not a little girl. And surely nothing like his sister. Two things Tristan so loved to imply.

I wondered now if they were defense mechanisms. Had he needed to see me that way to keep his hands off me? An enticing thought regardless of whether it was true or not.

“You take my breath away. You always have,” he admitted.

I cherished the way my body responded as his hands roamed over me, the quickening of my breath, the elevated senses, the rise of my blood pressure, the heightened sensitivity. I arched into him, and it became undeniably clear I wanted Tristan.

Was any of my decision to lose my virginity to him born out of revenge?

Yeah. Maybe a piece. But a very tiny piece.

My back bowed off the bed as he dragged the soft pajama pants over my hips, inching them down my body inch by sensual inch before tossing them to the floor. He ran his hand up my leg, kissing my calf. Then the corner of my knee and the inside of my thigh.

I didn’t have any undergarments on, leaving me bare before him.

I held my breath. He wouldn’t kiss me there, would he?

But oh, he fucking did.

My breath quickened into choppy pants as his lips pressed into my core, the aching center of desire. My inner walls tightened and pulsed. It wasn’t only his mouth that tormented me. He used his fingers too, a combination that had my hips lifting, pleading for more. His tongue licked over my clit before he took the sensitive bud into his mouth and sucked. And that was how the mindless torment continued, alternating between a stroke of his tongue and suction of his mouth.

I whimpered, teeth clamping over my bottom lip to keep from crying out.

Every so often, I would feel the cool steel of his lip ring drag across my clit, offering just a morsel of coolness to the heat assaulting me.

He gave me no choice but to fall off the cliff.

The orgasm ripped through me, a pleasure so sharp and violent it bordered on painful, yet it was a pain I’d gladly die over and over again to feel. It took me by surprise. I hadn’t been ready, been prepared.

“Why did you do that?” I asked unevenly, still catching my breath. I hadn’t wanted things to end so quickly, not when I hadn’t gotten to feel him inside me. I feared Tristan might back off now.

“I wanted to taste you as you came.” He ran his tongue, the same one that had feasted on me like I’d been his personal buffet, over his lips.

Dear. Fucking. God.

This man.

I hadn’t imagined my need for him could get stronger, not after what my body just went through, but damn, if I wasn’t ready…hell, eager for more.

When Tristan rolled to the side and got out of bed, leaving me like a melted candy bar on a hot summer night, prickles of disappointment danced in my belly. I was about to open my mouth and make a smart-ass remark when he dropped his sweatpants.

He discarded them to the side as I drank in every angle of his body. I’d seen Tristan naked before. He seemed fond of trying to shock me with his nakedness, but having him in front of me for my leisurely pleasure…all I could do was bite my lip and stare.

Sauntering back to the bed, he captured my lips in a kiss so carnal I wasn’t sure how much more I could take without feeling as if I would explode from the inside out. I pulled him on top of me.

“Are you on the pill?” he asked, brushing damp strands of hair from my face.

I nodded. “Yeah. I never miss a dose.” It was true. I was religious about taking it but not for the reasons he assumed. I needed the relief it offered from the stabbing cramps that used to paralyze me for days.

He positioned himself between my legs, and my body automatically tensed, uncertainty breaking slightly through the haze of lust. “Relax, Shortcake,” he murmured against my swollen mouth.

If only it was that easy…a snap of my fingers, but my mind and body weren’t cooperating.

Tristan’s brows drew together as he studied me closer. “Are you nervous?” he asked, his fingers tracing down the slope of my neck.

“Why would I be nervous?” The lie rolled off my tongue, and Tristan looked unconvinced, which wouldn’t do. I caught his lips in a kiss, flaming the hunger inside me. Somehow with his mouth on mine, my courage swelled. Like tearing off a wax strip, I just had to close my eyes and do it.

My hips lifted, pushing the tip of his length slightly inside me.

His hand went to the back of my thigh, lifting my leg to wrap around him. “I need to be inside you,” he moaned, showing more restraint than any guy I knew…more than I desired.

My core clenched, aching to have him deeper. “What are you waiting for?”

His eyes flared. “Be careful what you ask for.” He thrust inside of me, and I was so wet he encountered little resistance. I’d braced myself for the burst of pain, and yet, it still surprised me. A gasp slipped through my parted lips as my nails dug into his shoulders. I waited for the thrusting of his hips, for the pain to continue, but it didn’t.

His body went still. Silence fell over the room. He stopped breathing, the hard-ass muscles lining his body strained.

I peeked under my lashes to find him staring at me with a mixed expression of oddness, awe, and anger like he couldn’t believe whatever was going through his head. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.

“Damn it, Ever,” he growled, his biceps flexing as he held himself over me. “You should have told me.”

My virginity was no longer a secret. I met his gaze unflinchingly and unapologetically. “Why? So you could tell me how wrong this is? It’s my choice. You’re my choice.”

Our bodies were still joined together. He filled me so completely, and my body wanted to react, to move against him. My muscles clenched around him, and his eyes blazed. “You and Preston never…”

I shook my head.

Perhaps I should have mentioned beforehand that I was a virgin.

Up until this point, I’d protected my virginity because I hadn’t been ready. It had nothing to do with waiting for that special person or my wedding night despite what Preston might have thought. He just hadn’t been the one. Deep down, I’d always known. Deep down, I’d had someone else in mind.

Desiring Tristan had felt like a sin.

“Shit.” He exhaled loudly.

My nails ran down his spine as I mustered up my courage. “Tristan, I don’t want to stop.” The words that spilled from me carried no hint of shame or remorse. They were just the truth.

I’d never seen his eyes so dark as they locked onto me. “Fuck it. I’m already going to hell.” His hips rolled slowly and gently with such controlled discipline. I could hear it in his voice when he asked, “Does this hurt?”

A slight burn ached between my legs, but it was accompanied by a twist of pleasure. “I’m okay. I promise. Tell me what to do.”

“Just keep doing what you’re doing. What feels good to you.”

He made it sound so simple.

I pulled his lips back to mine.

Would I ever be able to forget the taste of him? Tristan was like a forbidden fruit dangling on a tree in front of me after being starved for days. I’d risk death to have a single bite, and as much as I longed to forget the events that unfolded tonight, I was starting to think Tristan might do permanent damage.

Maybe I was a girl who couldn’t be intimate without feelings getting tangled up. Wanting this to just be sex didn’t make it just sex. We had too much history, and even knowing I was putting my fragile heart on the line, I couldn’t…wouldn’t stop.

My hips rolled, testing the feel of Tristan inside of me. He groaned into my mouth, his tongue gliding ravenously against mine as he responded to the demand of my kiss. Tentative lifting of hips swiftly turned into thrusts, sending a flurry of heated sensations through me.

I marveled at how my body stretched, and with it, the pain subsided, leaving me with only maddening pleasure.

Each meeting of our hips sent him a bit deeper, and it was as if he touched the depths of my soul. I felt him everywhere, a connection I never fathomed. He let me set the pace, following the rocking movement of my hips, pulling in and out of me with such torturous slowness I had no room for doubts—only the buzzing of my body as I raced toward the edge.

I didn’t stop. I didn’t hesitate. I didn’t overthink.

I fucking jumped.

And then I was soaring.

Stars and sparkles of unimaginable pleasure devoured me, but with it came an unexpected surge of emotions. Overwhelmingly so. They took me by surprise, tears swelling in my eyes.

Don’t you dare cry. You’re not going to be one of those girls who sobs after an orgasm.

It wasn’t just the indescribable trembles. It was everything. Preston. The other girl. My mom. My absent father.

They all crashed together.

And then there was Tristan.

Tristan. Tristan. Fucking Tristan.

God, I could so easily lose my heart to him. I didn’t want to admit it, but he had been right. Sleeping with him had been a dangerous endeavor.

I fell a little more in love with him as the crescendo slowly faded.

I had to stop pretending what I felt for Tristan was only a crush. I’d been falling for years. The intimacy we’d just shared only solidified my feelings a bit more.

Why did I feel so pathetic suddenly? So sad? So fucking alone?

And what the fuck was that noise?