34. Penelope
Chapter 34
Penelope
The kiss stuns me, freezing me up for a second. When I asked Tristan for a last kiss, this is not what I was expecting. I thought he’d go for something chaste, a brush of lips that he could pull away from quickly and still stay he’d fulfilled my request.
But this is so much more than that.
This is him trying to devour me. Trying to press all the things he can’t or doesn’t know how to say into one kiss, desperate and heated.
I stiffen up instinctively, shock lancing through me—but then I melt into the kiss, because how could I not? His mouth is hot, tender and demanding all at the same time, and it urges me to kiss him back.
I feel like I’m starving for him. Like I’ve been craving this ever since I realized that I had feelings for him. For weeks now. I’ve been watching him, seeing the way he puts those walls up and wanting them to come down so I could be this close to him. So I could feel his lips on mine. Even when he was fucking me through my heat, I wanted it, and now that I have it, it makes my heart race.
This is so much better than I could have imagined. I’m finding out in fits and starts that Tristan is the furthest thing from cold. There’s so much heat to him, and it sears through me now, igniting my passion along with his.
After a few moments, we both need to breathe, and Tristan pulls back the slightest bit. Just enough that he can drag in a ragged breath and I can pant against his mouth.
“Say it again,” he demands in a husky tone.
I blink, head fuzzy from the kissing, trying to remember what I said. Then it hits me that he wants to hear me say his name again.
“Tristan,” I murmur, practically purring it.
He groans, deep in his chest.
“Again.”
“Tristan.” It gets easier and easier to say it, and the way he reacts makes my body react as well.
His eyes blaze with desire, more than I’ve ever seen from him before. It’s like he’s thrown open the floodgates and let all the passion in him start to come out.
I hope I can survive the flood of it, but every part of me tingles in anticipation.
Tristan scoops me up with ease, and I gasp in surprise. He settles me on the edge of the counter, and I don’t have a second to spare to worry about contamination in my kitchen. Not when Tristan is looking at me like he wants to devour me in the best way.
He leans in, settling between my spread legs, and when he speaks, it’s right in my ear. “I’m going to make you scream my name,” he growls. “I want everyone on this entire block to know who you belong to.”
I shiver at his tone and the promise in those words. My heart is galloping now, so hard and loud that I’m sure he can hear it. I fist my hand in the front of his dress shirt and pull him in for another kiss, reveling in the fact that it’s something I can do now.
Tristan comes easily, kissing me, messy and deep.
“You’ve been so wrong,” he murmurs between kisses. “You think I don’t want you? Every fucking minute of the day is spent consumed by you.”
“Tristan.” I moan it this time, his words and kisses working me up so I’m squirming on the worktop. “Please.”
His eyes flash and his arms go around me. I’m confused for a second until I realize he’s undoing my apron. He pulls it over my head and tosses it to the side, and I don’t even see where it lands.
Then he unbuttons my blouse with a deftness that speaks to his urgency, pulling the two sides of it apart to bare my chest to his heated gaze.
He groans and lowers his face to my chest, nuzzling the valley between my breasts and inhaling deeply.
His voice is even deeper than usual when he growls, “You smell so fucking good.”
I moan in response, and Tristan takes my bra in his hands, ripping it open so he can bare my breasts to the air. He wastes no time before kissing at them, biting my sensitive skin and licking at my nipples.
I toss my head back, whimpering his name as he works me up, his mouth moving between my breasts, giving them each equal attention. It hurts in just the right way, each nip of his teeth winding me even tighter.
“Please,” I gasp out again. “Tristan, I need?—”
“I know what you need,” he growls.
He looks next to me on the counter and finds the bowl of icing I was making for the cinnamon rolls I’m testing. He dips a finger into the bowl and brushes some of the sweet, sticky icing over one of my nipples.
His gaze holds mine as he dips down and makes a show of licking and sucking the pebbled nub clean.
It feels so good, and I shudder hard, arching my chest even closer to him, eager for more.
There are all sorts of bowls of sauces and glazes and icings spread out over the counter, and I watch Tristan notice them, seeing the wicked gleam his eyes take on when he has an idea.
There’s a bowl of cherry filling off to my left, and he drags it closer with a little smile.
Your food is delicious,” he says. “But not as delicious as you.”
He helps me undress all the way, tugging off my shoes and my pants and underwear, leaving me naked. With a careful arm, he moves everything out of the way, and I’m pleased that he manages not to dump everything on the floor.
“Lie back,” he urges me, helping me into the position he wants me in.
I’m spread out for him on my worktop, body trembling with anticipation as he stands over me.
He dips a spoon into the bowl of cherry syrup and filling and then drizzles it across my stomach. It’s cool to the touch, and I shiver, moaning softly when his tongue follows the trail of sweet, sticky red syrup.
“Delicious,” he growls, and his tone alone is enough to make goosebumps race over my skin.
He keeps drizzling more and more, over my breasts, down the hollow of my cleavage, across the mound of my pussy. He laps up all of it, being so thorough that not a drop is left behind.
When he laps up the trail that leads between my legs, his eyes burn as he looks up at me. He spreads more sauce between my thighs, licking and nibbling at the soft flesh there, before he moves up higher and starts eating me out with the same level of intensity.
It’s just like I taste as good as the cherry filling, and I moan, my eyes sliding closed as he dives right in, licking and lapping at me.
I’m not as wet as I was when I was in my heat, but it’s a close thing. Tristan has been working me up so good, leaving me utterly aching for him, and the touch of his tongue to my clit makes me jerk and moan even louder.
“Fuck,” I say, sounding shaky. “That feels…”
He hums, not moving away from his feast. His tongue dips into me, thrusting in as deep as it can go, and my body reacts, clenching down around the pleasant intrusion.
When he flicks his tongue teasingly against my clit next, I shudder, moaning his name and spreading my legs wider, trying to get more.
And Tristan understands what I want. His fingers grip my thighs hard, hard enough that I’m sure there will be marks in the shape of them left behind.
But that’s what I want. I want proof that this happened in case it’s all a dream or Tristan goes back to being aloof and standoffish as soon as we’re done here.
I want to believe it won’t come to that, but it’s hard to know.
It’s also hard to focus on anything other than the way he’s going down on me. The way he’s eating me out with reckless abandon, making it rough and intense with just his tongue and the edge of his teeth.
And then he works two fingers into my entrance, and I cry out, writhing on the cool surface of the worktop, arching up to get those fingers deeper.
Tristan uses them in concert with his mouth, fucking into me while he laps at my clit and swirls his tongue around all the places that I’m the most sensitive.
My orgasm is building, higher and higher, my body wound so tight.
“Oh,” I moan, and that’s all the warning he gets as the pleasure spreads and snaps, thrusting me head first over the edge. I clench around his fingers, squirming and shuddering on the counter while he licks me through the aftershocks.
I cry out from it all, and Tristan finally lifts his head, his lips shiny with my release.
He looms over me, leaning down and kissing me roughly. I can taste myself on his lips, mixed with sweet, tart flavor of the cherries. It’s delicious, and I kiss him until the flavor is gone.
“You’re so sweet,” he murmurs against my mouth. “So delicious. I could eat you all day.”
“You’d never get anything done,” I whisper back, still trying to come down from the orgasm he gave me.
“Fuck getting things done,” he replies.
He grabs my hands and helps me sit up and then pulls me off the counter altogether. My legs wobble when my feet hit the floor, my knees barely able to support me now.
But Tristan doesn’t let me fall. Instead he spins me around and presses me down over the counter until I’m bent over on it.
He bends his body over mine, pressing me down with his weight. At this angle, I can feel his cock, rock hard and throbbing as he grinds it against my ass.
I moan out loud at the sensation, pressing back eagerly. It feels good, being this close to him, having him covering me with his body and his scent, and all thoughts of anything else are chased from my mind.
“Please,” I moan, squirming under him. “I want you.”
“You’ll have me,” he promises on a growl. He reaches down and taps my inner thighs, urging me to spread my legs. I do, letting him have room to move. He uses one hand to guide himself into me, the other one twining with mine, holding my hand down to the counter.
As always, he’s so fucking big. Even though I just came, it’s not how it was when I was in heat and my body was ready to take anything and everything.
I have to breathe through it as he presses the first inch or so into me, stretching me. It’s just this side of pain, and I bite my lip hard, whimpering a little.
“You can take me,” Tristan murmurs into my ear. His voice is rich with his own desire, and I can practically feel it rippling over me. “You know you can.”
I nod because I do know. And even if I didn’t know, I would still try. Everything in me wants him right now, no matter how long it takes for him to fit.
It helps that I’m soaking wet from him eating me out, and he works another few inches of his cock into me, filling me up.
I fight to breathe, bucking back as he keeps sliding more and more of himself into my body. Once he’s all the way in, I’m panting hard and already on the edge of falling apart. White hot zings of pleasure dance up and down my spine, and my walls tighten around his cock, fluttering with the need for more.
“You feel so fucking good,” Tristan growls. He nips at my earlobe sharply. “So fucking tight and wet.”
“Please move,” I pant. “Fuck, I need it. Tristan, please.”
“Say it again,” he demands. “Say my name again.”
“Tristan.” It comes out on a whimper as he draws his cock back, sliding it out of me just enough that he can slam back in.
The force of it presses me even farther over the worktop, and I choke out a low groan of pleasure. It feels so good to have him fucking into me, hard and deep, each thrust makes me buck back, wanting more and more.
“Look at you,” Tristan says. “Look at how fucking perfectly you take it. Like you were made for it. Made for me. I wish you could see how beautiful your perfect body looks, split open on my cock.”
I remember from when I was in heat, the way my pussy stretched to accommodate him, impaled on his hard length. I can imagine it now from a different angle, his cock glistening with my arousal as it slides in and out of me.
“It feels so good,” I groan, tightening around him.
Tristan curses under his breath and picks up the pace, driving into me even deeper. It should be impossible for him to even go deeper, but he manages, hitting that spot inside me that makes me cry out his name.
He straightens up enough to pull one hand back, and when it slaps into my ass, I jolt in surprise. I’ve never been spanked before, not like this, and I’m a little stunned at the fierce rush of pleasure that sends spiraling through me.
“Yes,” I choke out. “Oh, fuck, Tristan, please.”
“I thought you’d like that,” he says. “You like to feel it. You like it when it hurts a little.”
I nod eagerly, and he swats my ass a few more times. He lines the hits up with his thrusts, and my head spins with pleasure. Every nerve is on fire with it, and all I can do is take it as he keeps fucking me hard.
The sound of skin slapping skin echoes in the kitchen, the smell of our scents mingled with the scent of sex in the air. I’m definitely going to have to wipe down this work top before I can serve any food out of this kitchen, but that’s a problem for future Penelope.
Current Penelope is too busy getting her brains fucked out to care.
The spanking and the hard thrusts have me coming closer and closer to the edge, and I bite my lip hard, arching back to take even more of Tristan.
“Are you close?” he wants to know.
I nod, desperate for more.
“Then say my name again. Tell me who’s fucking you right now.”
“You are. Tristan!”
“Who makes you feel this good?”
“You. Tristan, please!”
“What do you want? Tell me.”
“To come for you. Please, let me come on your cock. I need it so bad.”
He reaches between our bodies, and all he has to do is toy with my clit for about five seconds before I’m exploding in pleasure. I scream his name, clenching around him like I want to milk him of every drop of his release.
Tristan hisses in pleasure, thrusting harder and deeper until he follows me over the edge. I can feel his knot swelling, filling me up so completely, and I slump over the worktop, still trembling from the aftershocks of that amazing orgasm.