Chapter 16 Tristan
TRISTAN
Even though we talk daily, she hasn’t told me about her impending marriage.
Knowing her, Viviana simply accepted, because that’s who she is when it comes to her family—compliant. If I weren’t the man she has to marry, I would have lost my shit.
Duty trumps love, which is a respectable trait, especially in our world, strengthening my resolve that I made the right decision.
I wait for her to come outside the dorm, the darkness providing a cloak of safety.
The last twelve days have been brutal. I have submerged myself in work, worked some more, and slept even less.
The moment I see her walking toward me, I climb out, erasing the distance between us.
“Fuck, I’ve missed you like crazy.” I palm her face and kiss her with every aching fiber in me.
She breathes life into me with her sweet moans, kissing me just as ardently, making up for lost time, the prelude to what is coming. Every atom is charged with the need to claim and take, demanding every bit of restraint to pump the brakes on desire.
After depositing her bag in the trunk, I open the passenger door for her, and she offers me a small smile.
As I drive away, she fidgets with her fingers on her lap, and I wait for her to start the conversation. She must have gone through this talk a hundred times in her mind. It doesn’t surprise me that she keeps silent.
“Is something wrong?”
I am such a bastard. An unapologetic one on top of that. I don’t deserve her, but I am too far gone to care. She’s stuck with me—for life. For good.
“No,” she says, squirming in her seat.
She can’t lie to save her life, and pretending with me doesn’t come easily because she has always been open and honest. Our most sacred rule—one we’re breaking as we’re both keeping secrets.
This is a highly flammable situation, and the consequences could explode right in our faces. I can feel the shift in the air, thickening and suffocating us.
The honeymoon phase has ended, leaving us to deal with the consequences of my decision.
“Just thinking about classes,” she says absentmindedly.
I arch a brow. “Am I that distracting?”
A grin teases her lips, eyeing me. “You definitely are. It proves quite a challenge. One I’m trying hard to master.”
“Good girl.”
Her eyes instantly spark, the desire so potent it’s a wonder I don’t veer off the road.
Fuck, I don’t think I can wait until we’re home.
“Tristan,” she murmurs, the need so clear in her voice it makes me slow down the car.
“Yes, mo run?” I swallow, barely restraining myself.
“I need you. Really need you. Right now.”
I slam on the brakes, and the car swerves to the side of the road.
It’s a mostly deserted road, with a forest stretching on each side, the bulky trees providing some privacy, my silver car melting into the white scenery.
I park the car in the shadow of a tree, pushing my seat back. It will be tight, considering it’s a sports car that fits just two people. I don’t care about anything besides satisfying my woman, easing this incessant desire throbbing in my veins.
I don’t know who moves first, but she ends up straddling me, ripping my shirt open while I lift her dress and tear at her tights, pushing her thong aside. She fumbles with my zipper, pulling out my hard cock that leaks pre-cum, whimpering for her.
Just thinking about sheathing myself in her fiery core sends a thrill through me.
One palm digs into my shoulder, supporting herself, while with the other she lifts herself onto the center console, then pushes herself down on my cock in one go, her eyes rolling back in their sockets.
Fuck, how I missed the exquisite feeling of her pussy stretching for me, struggling to accommodate my girth as she breathes through the discomfort. Her desperation only spurs me on, and gripping her waist, I suck on her tits, needing her with a frenzy.
I slant my mouth onto hers, eager to put my mouth on every inch of her. Kissing her, I lose myself in her, wishing to embed myself in this woman’s DNA.
“So good, Tristan…so good,” she murmurs, her head falling back as I nibble on her neck, my palm inching lower, tracing every curve before I grip her ass cheek and squeeze hard.
Our hot breath casts condensation on the windows, secluding us some more as we give in to our carnal need and fiery longing.
“You’re mine, fucking mine. Let another man touch you, kiss you, fuck you, and he’s a dead man.”
That makes her grip me even tighter, the pleasure maddening. Black spots dot my vision, blinding me just like my lust.
I nibble on her earlobe, biting before whispering in her ear. “You like that, don’t you? I think the good girl act is just a pretense. You’ve fallen for the worst of men, mo run.”
She explodes on my cock, and I follow shortly, pumping my seed inside her.
As she falls onto my chest, I hold her to me, kissing the top of her head as we catch our breath.
She’s so silent that if it weren’t for her heavy breathing, I’d think she’s a vision, something my mind conjured.
I caress her back, my cock softening inside her, but in this position, stuffed in her wet and snug pussy, it won’t take long until I am ready for round two.
She lifts her eyes, and a small blush colors her face. “We did it in your car.”
I sniff the heavy air of sex. “Hmm, I will probably get hard every time I’m in this car from now on.”
She grins, looking quite content with herself. “Thank you.”
“Whatever you need, you just have to ask me,” I say, my voice coated in belief.
Even if she ends up hating me, rejecting me, she’s mine. And I will always take care of her.
I hold her until she’s the one to move first, glancing down at our thighs. We made a mess, one that inflates my chest with immense pride. Bending over to open the glove compartment, I pluck out some tissues to clean her up and then myself before we set our clothes to rights.
She hums softly, appearing more grounded as I drive toward our beach house.
I am going to give it to her as a wedding present.
I can’t demand the truth when I am thinking of how to make the best of the time left until the house of cards I’ve constructed will crash on my damn head.
Once we reach it, her eyes take everything in as if wanting to memorize every corner, every object.
It takes everything in me not to tell her she doesn’t need to.
Inside the living room, she goes to the cabinet, returning with a bottle of scotch and two glasses.
“Was it that bad at home?” I ask, attempting to coax the truth.
She shrugs, pours two tumblers, and places the glasses on the coffee table. “I loved spending time with my sister and my niece. You would like Chiara, she’s a force.”
I’ve heard the word challenge would be more suitable, but I guess Cato likes that.
“How could I not like her, when she has this amazing sister I am crazy about? She can’t be bad.”
“Not her.” Her smile threatens to slip. Avoiding my gaze, her face dips. “I’m the liar. I am living a lie.”
In one step, I cut the distance between us and grip her chin, tilting her face up to look deep into her eyes. “Don’t talk badly about the woman I love. Clear?”
Her chin quivers, vulnerability thick in her voice. “I don’t know what you see in me.”
“Perfection. Heart. Colors. Beauty—inside and out. Future. My universe.”
Her eyes well up, one tear sliding down her cheek, and I brush it away.
“You always know what to say, what to do. It makes me feel…”
“Like what?” I urge, hungry for more confessions.
“Like I was made for you.”
Maybe she was. It couldn’t be for good deeds, but maybe to compensate for my shitty upbringing. Monsters are never born. The world creates them. Maybe she’s the gift for that little boy who lost his innocence too soon, the teenager who forsook his soul.
“A waste of goodness on a monster like me,” I say contemplatively.
She wraps her arms around me, resting her face in the crook of my arm. “Stop calling my man a monster. I forbid you.”
“You forbid me?” I chuckle, feeling damn elated at her claiming me.
She lifts onto her toes and palms my face. “Yes.”
“I’m your man, but I want you to be aware of who you have fallen for.”
“As if you’d ever let me go. Unloving you would be impossible. It’s too late. You have me.”
“For how long?” I ask, wanting to see if she’ll tell me.
She waves a hand through the air. “What is time anyway? I know I’ll love you forever.”
Smart woman. No wonder I am fucking smitten with her.
Slipping from my arms, she plays some music through the speaker, something soulful, and she sips from her glass. “Do you know pigeon blood most resembles human blood?”
I spread myself on the sofa and cock my head. “And we need pigeon blood for what exactly?”
“But now we can use synthetic blood,” she babbles, her nervousness so damn cute. “It’s just as good. Women have faked their virginity since forever…they used pigeon blood. Do you think a man could distinguish?”
I grip the arm of the sofa, and reaching for my glass, toss back half, the hard liquid doing nothing to calm me down. She is not implying what I think she is? Oh, she is. Who am I fucking kidding? It takes immense willpower to keep my facial features neutral.
The more she drinks, the more talkative she gets. Her brows furrow into a cute frown. “I’ve heard the whole hymen thing is a fallacy. Every woman has a more or less elastic vagina. Not everyone bleeds. Apparently, that’s also a fallacy. I did, but would you have noticed the difference?”
“Why do you want to fake your virginity? No need, baby. I was the one taking it.” I wink at her.
Leaning back, I twirl the glass in my hand, the contents sloshing just like my control.
She rolls her eyes, empties her scotch, and places the empty glass down.
Her eyes appear glassy and unfocused. “My family is big on that. Are you?”