Chapter 10 Tristan #2
Looking at her, I realize I hadn't been content; I was just waiting. "You're not leaving," I growl, needing to hear it again. Needing to brand it into the air between us.
"Try and make me," she challenges.
Something inside me snaps. I capture her mouth in a kiss that isn't gentle. It’s a possession.
My mouth crashes over hers, my tongue forcing its way deep to taste the desperation I’ve been feeling for days.
Her hands tangle in my hair, her nails scratching my scalp as she hauls me closer.
A low growl rips from my throat as her soft, trembling body yields to the scarred muscle of my chest. I pull back, gasping for air, forehead resting against hers. "Your leg..."
"Is fine," she pants, pupils blown wide, swallowing the emerald green of her irises, matching the mossy depths of my own. "Be careful. But don't stop."
"I’m never stopping," I vow against her skin.
I move down her body, worshipping every inch of skin I expose.
I pull the hoodie up, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses to the valley between her breasts, listening to her heart hammer against her ribs like a trapped bird.
But she’s not trapped. She’s nesting. My hands are large, rough-skinned and calloused, covering her softness.
I slide the hoodie off completely, leaving her bare to my gaze.
She is perfection. Lush, soft, pale skin marked with the fading bruises of her fall.
I peel her sweatpants down, careful, so careful, over the splint. I toss them aside.
"Tristan," she whines, a needy sound that makes my blood boil.
I settle between her legs, mindful of the splint propped on the pillows. I loom over her, a giant in the shadows, blocking out the rest of the world. There is only this. The loft. The bed. Us.
I kiss my way down her stomach, feeling her muscles flutter under my lips. Sliding my hand down, I find her pussy already drenched, the wet lips of her opening soaked and dripping with her juices.
The heavy, localized musk of her arousal fills my lungs, more intoxicating than any drug. My thumbs spread her wide, exposing her engorged, purpled clit to the air. She’s so fucking wet for me that it’s tracking down her thighs, a slick invitation for my mouth to claim her.
"Please," she begs, head thrown back against the pillows.
"Patience," I rumble against her skin.
I lower my mouth to her then, a long, slow stroke of my tongue that makes her cry out. I don't stop until she is unraveling, her cries echoing off the high beams of the loft, her body bowing off the mattress as she shatters against my mouth. She’s panting, flushed and beautiful, eyes glazed.
I crawl up her body, positioning myself. "Look at me," I command. Her eyes flutter open, locking onto mine. "You belong to the mountain now, Alexandria," I say, my voice thick with lust and truth. "You belong to the club. But first, and always... you belong to me."
"I'm yours," she whispers. "Tristan, I'm yours."
I guide my cock to her opening and push, the blunt head stretching her drenched pussy walls until she gasps at the thickness.
Inch by inch, I sink into her, my jaw locking as I fight the primal need to just ram myself home.
She’s so tight she feels like a vice, her wet walls clamping around the heavy, veined length of my shaft.
When I finally bottom out, burying myself to the hilt, my balls slap against her pussy with a sound of raw, primitive possession.
"Your cock is so big..."
"And you take every inch," I groan, starting to move.
The rhythm is slow, deep, grinding. I watch her face, drinking in every expression. I want the brothers downstairs to know that the Road Captain has found his mate. "Tristan," she sobs, wrapping her good leg around my waist, pulling me deeper.
I pick up the pace, the friction building into a fire that consumes us both.
I am relentless in my pursuit of her pleasure.
I pound into her pussy, my heavy balls slapping against her soaking wet skin with every brutal, rhythmic thrust. I am marking her from the inside out, my thick cock bottoming out against her cervix until she’s sobbing my name.
Her pussy spasms, the internal walls clamping down on my shaft in a tight, milking rhythm that snaps the last of my restraint.
I roar, a guttural, animalistic sound, and hammer into her one last time, burying my cock to the absolute root.
I groan as I erupt, pumping my hot, thick seed deep into her, feeling it coat her internal walls while she shudders under the weight of my claim.
I collapse on top of her, taking my weight on my elbows, burying my face in the crook of her neck.
I breathe her in—sweat, sex, and that raw, wildflower musk that belongs only to her.
The constant, jagged noise in my skull—the need to track every exit, to map every threat—finally cuts to static.
There is only the sound of her breathing and the weight of her body against mine.
Silence, real silence, has finally found me.
Later—minutes, hours, I don't know—the room is cool and dark. I’ve pulled the heavy quilt over us.
Alexandria is asleep against my side, head resting on my chest, hand splayed over my heart.
The splint on her leg is a dark, heavy shape wrapped in black bandages in the darkness, a monument to the accident that brought us together.
I trace patterns on her bare arm with my fingertips.
I look out the window, past the iron bars, to the silhouette of Grizzly Peak against the starlit sky.
For years, I looked at that mountain and saw a job.
It was a cold, lonely duty. But tonight, the mountain looks different.
It looks like a fortress. Alexandria shifts in her sleep, murmuring something unintelligible, snuggling closer into my warmth.
My arm tightens around her instinctively.
The brothers were right. I’m compromised.
I’m distracted. I’m vulnerable in a way I never thought possible because now I have something to lose.
But as I kiss the top of her head, inhaling the scent of my mate, I realize that for the first time in my life, I’m not just surviving the wilderness. I’m living in it.
The solitude is gone. I don't miss it one bit. "Sleep well, darling," I whisper into the darkness. "I've got the watch." And I know, with the absolute certainty of a man who has found his true north, that I will be watching over her until the mountain crumbles to dust.