Chapter Nine Tristan
Ididn’t know how to tell her that I didn’t think we were safe anywhere.
Early morning light filtered lazily through the curtains of the getaway cabin, casting a gentle glow over the tangled sheets where we lay. I felt her warmth against my body, a comforting presence that filled the space with something more potent than heat.
“Tristan,” Adriana murmured sleepily, her voice a soft hum in the quiet room. I couldn’t help but tighten my hold around her, reveling in the feeling of her body pressed to mine.
“Sorry, did I wake you?” My voice was a low rumble, betraying the current of desire that had me longing for more than just her proximity.
“Maybe,” she replied with a hint of mischief in her tone that made my lips curve into a smile.
Letting my hand drift slowly down her side, I savored the smoothness of her skin as it led me to the swell of her bump. The life we created together, a bond that tightened with every flutter and kick from within. Past her bump, my fingertips ventured further south until they brushed over her clit with a leisurely caress.
A deep moan escaped her lips, vibrating against my shoulder where her head rested. Encouraged by the sound, I let my fingers explore, tracing circles that grew tighter and more insistent with each pass.
“Remember that party?” I whispered against her ear, my breath hot on her skin. “The way you looked at me across the room... I wanted to bend you over right then and there.”
Her breathing hitched, and I felt her body respond, pressing into my touch as if seeking more—more pressure, more pleasure, more of the unspoken promise between us. It wasn’t just about lust; it was about marking moments of ours, threading them through the fabric of our intertwined lives.
“Tristan,” she breathed out, her voice a blend of desire and a smile that didn’t need to be seen to be felt.
“Adriana,” I murmured, letting her name roll off my tongue like a vow as my fingers slipped further inside her. She gasped, arching into my touch, and I couldn’t help but bite down gently on the nape of her neck, pulling at her hair to tilt her head back, exposing more of her to my hungry mouth.
“You’re mine,” I growled softly, each word punctuated by the rhythm I set with my fingers. “And soon, you’ll be my wife.”
She squirmed beneath me, her body tightening around my probing digits. The air was thick with the scent of her arousal, intoxicating and undeniable. My other hand cradled her face, thumb stroking her cheek as I continued to claim her flesh with my mouth.
“If you weren’t already carrying our child,” I whispered against her sensitive skin, “I’d get you pregnant all over again, right here, right now.”
Her response was a whimper that sent a surge of possessiveness through me. It was raw and primal, this need to claim her completely—as if every cell in my body was attuned to her.
“Please,” she pleaded, her hips bucking up to meet my hand. The urgency in her voice nearly broke me, but I held back, wanting to draw out every shiver, every moan.
As she humped herself on my fingers, chasing the release that I controlled, I leaned in close to her ear once more, my words a sinful promise, “Once we have these babies, I’m putting another one inside you.”
“Is that right?”
“You’ve always been mine, Adriana,” I confessed, a fierce whisper that matched the frenetic pace of my fingers. “Since those days when I’d watch you pass by my locker, every part of me has wanted to claim you.”
Her cries crescendoed into a symphony of pleasure, and I felt her clench around me as she came hard, her entire body trembling. In that moment, as I watched over her, every barrier between us fell away, leaving nothing but pure, unadulterated connection.
“Always,” she gasped, her eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that seared into my very soul. “Always yours, Tristan.”
“Good,” I murmured, my voice rough with emotion and desire as I slowly withdrew my fingers, leaving her panting and exposed in the quiet of the afternoon. She lay there, a goddess in the rumpled sheets of our getaway cabin bed, the soft light of early afternoon filtering through the windows and caressing her flushed skin.
I shifted, my movements deliberate as I turned her over gently. Her breath hitched, anticipation sparkling in her eyes. My hands traced the contours of her hips before hooking around the waistband of her leggings. With careful precision, I peeled the fabric down her legs, revealing her in all her bare glory.
“Tristan,” she whispered, a hint of vulnerability threaded within her voice.
I met her gaze squarely, my own flooded with an intensity born of years of longing. “You don’t need to say anything,” I said softly, my fingers brushing the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. “All I want is to worship you.”
And worship her I did, my touch a reverent exploration of her body’s every response. Each stroke, each glide, brought her closer to the edge, only for me to pull back at the last second. I relished the way her body quivered, how her breaths came out in ragged pants, her chest heaving with the effort to hold onto the precipice of pleasure I dangled her over.
“Tristan, please,” she begged, her voice laced with a sweet desperation that fueled my resolve to draw out this moment, to savor the power I had to make her unravel with just a touch.
“I like you like this,” I confessed, my words barely louder than a whisper as I continued to tease her, “when you’re quivering for me, when you’re right on the brink.”
She was beautiful in her frustration, her desire a tangible force between us, pulling me deeper into the intoxicating dance of giving and withholding. But even as I indulged in this play of control, another question lingered on my lips, one that promised to push the boundaries of our shared pleasure even further.
“Has anyone ever...?” I trailed off, my question implied rather than spoken as I watched her reaction intently.
“Never,” she answered, her cheeks flushing a deeper shade of red. She shifted uneasily, uncertainty flickering in her eyes. “I don’t know if—“
“Would it feel good?” I interrupted, a smirk playing on my lips as I caught the flicker of curiosity in her gaze. “There’s one way to find out.”
Her breath caught, and she nodded, the silent permission electrifying the air between us. In that unspoken agreement, we ventured into uncharted territories, exploring the depths of trust and the heights of sensation, bound together by the promise of discovering new ways to worship at the altar of our love.
“Adriana,” I whispered, bending over her, my lips barely brushing her ear. Every word was a confession, every syllable a secret meant only for her. “I want to know all of you.”
Her body stiffened beneath me, a shiver racing down her spine that had nothing to do with the cool air seeping into the room from the open window. I held my breath, waiting for her response, unsure of how she would react. But when she let out a soft sigh and nodded slightly, a wave of relief washed over me.
“Okay,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
Unspeakable tenderness welled up within me as I carefully turned her onto her stomach, pulling her hips up to align with mine. My hand slid slowly down her back, tracing the curve of her spine before coming to rest on her lower back, my fingers splayed across her heated skin.
She was so open, so vulnerable in this moment, and I cherished the trust she placed in me. I leaned down, pressing a soft kiss at the base of her spine before gradually moving lower, my kisses trailing a path of fiery desire on her skin.
My hands roamed over her body, tracing invisible lines of pleasure that left her writhing beneath me. She was responsive, eager even—for every touch, every kiss as if desperate to feel every ounce of love I had for her.
“Tristan,” she whimpered, the sound sending shockwaves through me. It was pure pleasure, raw and unadulterated. She wanted me as much as I wanted her.
I moved slowly, teasingly until she was squirming with anticipation. And then, when I thought she couldn’t take it anymore, when I knew she was teetering on the edge, I slid my tongue around her perfect little asshole.
I expected her to tense up, to pull away perhaps, but she didn’t. Instead, she cried out, the sound muffled by the pillow her face was half buried in. It was a sound of pleasure, tempered with surprise and maybe a little fear too. It was beautiful.
I took my time, teasing her slowly, listening to every gasp and whimper as I explored her in this new way. I wanted to show her how much I wanted her, how deeply I craved every inch of her.
“Tristan... Oh God...” she moaned, and it sounded like a prayer on her lips—her voice hoarse and filled with a desperate yearning that mirrored my own.
I could feel her trembling under me, her body convulsing with each stroke of my tongue. I grazed my fingers over her clit adding another layer of pleasure.
“Is it good?” I asked, my words muffled against her skin.
“Yes,” she gasped, the word coming out as a choked sob. “Don’t stop.”
I didn’t. If anything, her pleading made me more determined. My tongue pressed deeper, my fingers working in tandem to bring out gasps and whimpers that drove me insane with desire.
Slowly, I traced a wet trail towards the puckered center of her pleasure. My fingers played at her entrance, teasing and testing. She squirmed beneath me, anticipation heightening her every nerve ending.
“Fuck,” she whispered, her voice filled with a tantalizing mix of fear and desire.
My finger circled the rim, barely penetrating, before I withdrew. Her breath hitched. The ensuing silence was thick with anticipation, heavy with the promise of what was to come.
“Relax,” I crooned against her heated skin, my breath hot against her sensitive area as I continued my careful exploration.
Once more, my finger circled, dipping slightly inside before retreating again. Her body shuddered under me. Then slowly, carefully, I eased a single digit inside her ass.
“Fuck,” I said. “The perfect pussy and the perfect asshole. You really are going to be the perfect wife.”
Her response was lost in her gasp, a sound that echoed my own pleasure. My control was slipping, my resolve to go slow and gentle wavering under the onslaught of sensations that whispered promises of ecstasy. But I knew I needed to be careful, to remember this was new territory for both of us.
“Tristan,” she whimpered again, a sweet plea that tugged at the very core of me. “Please.”
Her body writhed beneath me, seeking the relief only I could give her. But I wasn’t quite ready to yield the control just yet, not when I could still make her beg, plead for more.
“Say it,” I urged, my voice nothing more than a soft growl against her skin. “Tell me what you want.”
“I want...” She trailed off, struggling to find the right words as her breath hitched in her throat.
“Yes?”
“I want you,” she finally admitted, her voice barely a whisper. “All of you.”
“Listening to you beg for my cock is my favorite thing in the world,” I said as my fingers moved faster, faster.
Her pleas transformed into sweet moans as my fingers moved within her, pushing into unexplored depths. She was so tight, so warm. It was pure heaven.
Brief moments filled with an adrenaline rush and pent-up desire passed before I gave in to her begging pleas. Reaching for the drawer next to our bed, I pulled out a bottle of lube, letting it spill over my fingers before returning them to her sensitive flesh.
I pressed one slick finger against her tight entrance, sliding it inside her slowly. Her breath hitched, her fingers clutching the sheets beneath her as I pushed deeper.
“Damn,” I hissed between gritted teeth, the sight of my finger disappearing inside her nearly driving me over the edge.
“Is it...is it supposed to feel like this?” she stammered, her voice shaky. Even in the dim light, I could see her face flush a deeper shade of red.
“It should feel good,” I murmured into her ear, my breath hot against her skin. “Does it hurt?”
“No,” she gasped out as I pushed a second finger inside her. “It’s just...different.”
“Different good or different bad?” I asked, my voice low and gruff as I watched her reactions carefully.
“Different...good,” she whispered, her eyes squeezed shut as she adjusted to the unfamiliar sensation.
Her admission sent a thrill of satisfaction coursing through me, and I couldn’t help but push deeper, the slick sounds of my fingers moving inside her mingling with our ragged breaths.
“I want to see you come apart for me,” I growled into her ear as I curled my fingers inside her. “What do you want now?”
Her body tensed, throat working overtime to swallow as she whispered so softly, I almost missed it. “You.”
“Where?” I teased her, my fingers still pressing into her ass.
She squirmed beneath me, her body flushed with arousal. “Inside me,” she breathed out, her voice shaky with anticipation.
“Inside you where?“ I asked.
“Inside... inside me,” she choked out and I could hear the hesitation making her voice waver.
My body trembled with need as I pressed my thumb against her clit, circling it with steady pressure. “And which hole do you want me in, Adriana?”
Her body writhed beneath me, a delightful mixture of vexation and desire. “Tristan...please.”
Her pleas were intoxicating, a heady cocktail of need and submission that sent waves of pleasure coursing through me. I leaned down, capturing her lips in a deep, passionate kiss that left us both breathless.
“Tell me where you want me,” I urged again when we pulled away, my voice coarse with both desire and impatience.
“In,” she panted desperately, her body writhing beneath me. “In my ass, Tristan. Please.”
Her words were a gut punch that I was not prepared for. A dangerous thrill coursed through me, unlocking something primal within. My fingers stilled inside her - the only sign of shock I allowed myself - before they started to move again, sliding deeper.
“That’s my good girl,” I murmured against her earlobe, nipping it gently as a reward.
Reaching for the lube once more, I coated my length generously. My gaze met hers as I positioned myself at her entrance, the anticipation clear in her dark eyes as they pleaded silently for more. I felt a surge of protectiveness and desire mingling within me, threatening to consume me whole.
“I’m going to come inside of you,” I said. “That’s what you want, right?”
“Yes,” she gasped, her eyes wide and pupils dilated from desire. “Yes, Tristan.”
The wild desperation in her voice was enough to nearly send me over the edge. But I needed to control myself, for her. With a final, assuring nod, I began to push forward, easing into Adriana with all the restraint I could muster.
She gasped sharply, her fingers digging into my shoulders as she fought off the discomfort. It was no easy task, changing what was familiar. But this...this was intimate on a completely different level. A deep intimacy that bound us more tightly than anything else ever could.
Biting my lip against the wave of pleasure that surged through me at being inside her like this, I waited. I let her adjust to the intrusion before slowly pulling out and pushing back in again.
“Touch yourself,” I said.
Her breath hitched at my command as she reached down between her legs, her fingers exploring her swollen, sensitive flesh. Her back arched off the bed, a mewl escaping her lips as she stroked herself in time with my movements.
“Fuck,” I exhaled, my control slipping as I watched her pleasure herself. This was a sight only for me. The thought sent a fierce surge of possessiveness through me.
“I’m close,” she gasped out, her movements growing more frantic against her clit. Her inner muscles clenched around me, each squeeze sending shivers up my spine.
“I know,” I managed to ground out, the words torn from me as I fought to keep my own release at bay. “Go ahead. Come for me.”
Adriana’s body tensed, her fingers working faster against her swollen nub as her climax built. The sight of her pleasure was almost more than I could handle. Every sound she made, every gasp and moan, echoed through the room, adding to the erotic inferno that had consumed us.
I watched with bated breath as she reached the precipice, her body shuddering with an intensity that had me holding my own breath. Then she fell over the edge, a wordless cry of pure ecstasy tearing from her lips as she came apart beneath me.
I’d never seen anything more beautiful.
I was so enraptured by Adriana’s climax that I barely registered my own orgasm ripping through me until I felt the relentless pull in my lower belly. My hips jerked forward, burying myself deeper within her as I came, my release spilling inside of her with a guttural groan.
After a moment of letting the pleasure and satisfaction wash over me, I carefully slid out of her, my body protesting the loss instantly. Wordlessly, I reached for a towel from the bedside table and gently started cleaning her up.
Her eyes were half-closed, her face flushed with satisfaction, and she made soft sounds of protest as I moved away. I had to resist the urge to trace every curve and dip with my fingertips. But she needed rest.
Adriana sighed, burying her face into the pillow. “We should go look at what’s in the box.”
“Yeah, maybe,” I said.
But I didn’t care about the box. It was becoming increasingly clear to me that I didn’t care about anything except the woman lying on the bed as my cum spilled out of her.
She turned her head to look at me. “You okay?”
“Yes, love, never better,” I said, flashing her a smile.
I just really hoped it didn’t sound like a lie.