19. Tristan
19
TRISTAN
T onight was not going to plan. First, my parents had cornered me to ask why I hadn’t informed them about the fact I was no longer head boy. I’d listened to them both ranting for around fifteen minutes before they ran out of steam, and in the end, they’d thrown their hands up and said if I wanted to waste the opportunities I’d been given, it was my own fault.
After that, we’d joined the party, and my parents’ moods had greatly improved, in direct contrast to my own. My mother had asked me to dance with several different socialites, and I’d only acquiesced in order to smooth things over.
In the middle of my fourth dance, my mood had plummeted even further. Aria fucking Harper had waltzed into the party with one of my friends, looking hot as fuck and not even deigning to spare me a single glance. She’d been smiling and whispering with Blaine, looking all cosy as she stood way too close to him, and then they’d started dancing. His hands had held her almost possessively, and I’d had to fight back my sudden urge to storm over and rip his hands from her body.
I wasn’t sure what had horrified me more—Aria acting like I didn’t exist and looking far too happy with Blaine or the fact that I was horrified by her actions.
And then she’d said those words…
You’re the one who outshines everyone, and you know it. No one can take their eyes off you, not even me .
I couldn’t fucking think . Now, here I was, with one hand on the door to the bedroom I used when I stayed here and the other grasping a small, rectangular box. A box I’d retrieved from the small safe my uncle thought he was clever by hiding behind an oil painting, as if that wasn’t the most cliché move ever. He even had the same combination my father used for his own safe and, apparently, my grandfather, too. Yes, the Smith-Chamberlains passed their combination codes down the family line. Fucking ridiculous, not to mention it meant security was almost non-existent, but it was convenient, I guessed.
Pushing the door open, I stepped inside. While I’d been gone, Aria had turned on one of my bedside lamps, and she was now standing in front of the windows, staring outside. She was completely still, not even moving at the click of the door when I closed it behind me.
I came up behind her, opening the box. The contents glimmered, catching the light. It was then that I realised my palms were sweating and my hands were shaking.
What the actual fuck was I doing?
“A-Aria.” I cleared my throat. She tilted her head, and I panicked, snapping the box shut and shoving it into my pocket.
“Where did you go?” Her voice was flat, and I had no idea what she was thinking.
“Nowhere.”
“Right.” She turned to face me, and my gaze caught on the faint marks on her throat. My weird moment of nerves faded away, and a smile curved over my lips as I tilted her chin to the side to take a closer look. She exhaled unsteadily. “Admiring your handiwork? How am I going to explain this? Again?”
“Hmm.” I trailed my nose up her throat. “I guess you’ll have to tell them the truth. Tell them I got my hands on you, and you fucking loved it.”
“Liar.”
“You’re the liar, Aria.” I pressed into her, biting back a groan at the friction against my hardening cock. “We both know you love it when I touch you.”
“You arrogant fucking bastard,” she whispered as I placed my mouth over one of the marks, sucking to create a deeper bruise. “Get away from me.”
I lifted my head. “If that’s what you want.” Releasing her, I took a step back.
“You owe me.”
My brows rose. “For what?”
“For starting something and not finishing it.” Her gaze flicked down to my erection tenting my trousers. “You really like marking people up that much?”
Slowly, I shook my head, answering her honestly, although I couldn’t say why. “Not people, Aria. You . Now, what is it you want from me? You tell me to get away from you, and then you say I owe you. I’m gonna need you to spell out what it is you want because I’m at a loss.”
“Make me tell you.”
I was so fucking confused and turned on and, honestly, quite pissed off. That was the Aria effect, I guessed. “You want me to make you?”
“Yes,” she bit out. Fucking fine. If that was what she wanted.
“Kneel.”
“You—”
“Fucking kneel. Don’t make me repeat myself.”
Her eyes widened, but then her gaze grew dark and heated. Gracefully, she lowered herself to the floor. My cock jerked. Seeing my strong-willed little scorpion willingly follow my commands was a rush like no other.
I stared down at her. Her back was straight, and her chin was held high as her eyes remained connected with mine, defiant even in her apparent submission. She held all the power, and she probably knew it, too.
“Take my dick out,” I said softly. As she lifted her hands, raking her nails lightly over my thighs, I groaned. I was so fucking hard. But after I’d given her a pearl necklace—a poor substitute for the piece of jewellery I really wanted to give her—I’d make sure she was left so satisfied that no one else would ever come close to the pleasure I managed to give her.
My jaw clenched. I didn’t want to think about anyone else satisfying her.
Her hot mouth closed around the head of my cock, and all thoughts of other people flew from my mind.“Fuuuck, how are you so good at this,” I moaned, more of a statement than a question, as she took me deeper, doing a flicking thing with her tongue that made my dick jerk. She took a deep breath through her nose as I pushed forwards, her eyes filling with tears as her lips stretched around my girth.
One of her hands slid onto my inner thigh, and then she cupped my balls, tugging lightly, a fucking perfect tease combined with the hot, wet pressure of her mouth. She slipped one finger onto my taint, dragging a manicured nail over it, and I groaned, my hands going to her hair, pushing her even deeper until my cock was all the way down her throat.
There was zero chance of me lasting, and as she moved back again, licking over my cock like it was her favourite extra-large lolly, I managed to rasp out a warning.
“Gonna. Come.”
I pulled out, my hand flying to the base of my dick to direct my cum at her throat, and I came hard and fast, my release hitting her bare skin, joining the marks already there that showed she was mine.
“Fucking hell.” Steadying myself with my palm on the wall, I took several deep, juddering breaths, bringing much-needed oxygen to my lungs. Sucking one’s brains out was a cliché, but it was completely true in Aria’s case.
She rose to her feet, wiping at her mouth, and glanced around the room with a frown. Stalking over to the switch for the wall light, she hit it, flooding the room with sudden brightness. Blinking hard, I slapped my hand over my eyes, and despite my temporary loss of vision, I could almost see her rolling her eyes at me.
When I lowered my hand, she was studying her reflection in the mirror on the dresser. After I’d managed to get my trousers and shirt back in place, I joined her, watching as she—wait, what was she doing?
“It’s a holder that goes on your thigh,” she said in a bored voice before I could reply. “I didn’t have a bag, and this way, I can carry my phone and lipstick. Any questions? No? Good.”
I didn’t say anything, too busy taking in the long length of thigh that was currently exposed to my gaze. How could she be so petite and have such fucking long legs? That went against the laws of physics, I was sure.
Shaking my head, I spun away from her and then took several more deep breaths. Calm the fuck down, Tristan. Remember what you’re here for .
When I returned to her side, she’d finished with her lipstick, and her hair had been smoothed down. Her black eye make-up had stayed in place, despite her tears, and if it hadn’t been for the traces of cum still on her skin, I might’ve thought I’d imagined her giving me arguably the best blow job I’d ever had.
I curled my arm around her waist, my chest to her back, and eyed our reflections in the mirror. “We look good together, don’t we?”
“Lots of things that look good can be poisonous,” she replied, and my brows lifted.
“I guess that’s true. Now, are we gonna talk about your earlier comments? Specifically, why I owe you, and what I started and didn’t finish?”
She gripped my hand, her nails digging into my skin, and I hissed at the sudden sting. But then she dragged it down, right between her legs. What in the actual fuck?
“This,” she ground out, her voice so full of resentment that I had to work to hide the amusement on my face. “Fix. It. Now.”
Oh. Fuck. Okay. I might have been confused earlier, but I was definitely not confused now.
“Hold on.”
That was the only warning I gave her before lifting her, taking the few steps to the bed, and depositing her on it. I pushed up her dress, and she glared up at me, spreading her legs. My gaze zeroed in on the damp patch in her silky thong, and my mouth watered.
“Get on with it.” She hooked her ankle around the back of my knee, trying to get me to move closer.
I smirked down at her. “Patience is a virtue, little scorpion.”
“You’ve had yours, now give me mine.” If looks could kill, I’d be badly maimed at the very least. I leaned over her, taking my time lowering my head between her thighs.
Predictably, she gripped a handful of my hair and tugged hard. I shot her a warning look, smacking her pussy lightly with my fingers, and she gasped, her body bucking upwards. Yeah, I thought she’d like that.
“Stay still,” I commanded, easing her thong down. Tapping her legs to move them closer so I could take it off all the way, I carefully pulled it down her legs and over her heels. I dangled the scrap of silk in front of her, taking in her flushed cheeks and lust-filled gaze. “This is mine now.”
Carefully tucking the thong into my pocket, I slid my palms up her thighs and began teasing her wet little pussy with my fingers. My dick was already showing signs of life, and it wasn’t surprising because she was so fucking sexy, writhing on my bed, breathy little noises falling from her throat as I fucked her first with my fingers, then my tongue.
She came explosively, arching off the bed, and the best part of all?
She called out my name.
My. Fucking. Name.
“There’s no point looking in the safe. He doesn’t keep anything important in there. Not paperwork or anything.” My voice was a lower whisper as I cupped my phone with my hand so the torchlight was contained.
“Can we just check?” Aria brushed her fingers over the metal dial, and I sighed. While my uncle hid his safe behind a painting, my grandfather’s was placed inside a huge oak wardrobe in his dressing area, visible to anyone who opened the wardrobe doors. It was as if he was daring someone to try and break it open, not that anyone in the manor would dare.
“Okay.” Instead of moving her hand out of the way, I closed my fingers over hers, turning the dial through the combination of numbers. With a click, the safe opened, and we both peered inside, Aria’s hair brushing against my cheek as I swept my phone torch over the interior.
As I’d expected, the contents were sparse. My grandfather had never been one for jewellery or sentimentality, and aside from a small collection of watches, the only other item was a single wooden box. The size and shape made me immediately think it was a ring box, and sure enough, when I lifted it from the safe and opened it, I found a tarnished gold ring.
“It’s the same ring.” Aria tapped on the crest.
“Yeah.” It had to be my grandfather’s society ring, unless we’d interpreted everything wrong and there was some other explanation.
“Do you think there’s anything else here?”
I closed the box, returning it to its original position within the safe, and then closed and locked the door. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s best if I speak with my grandfather. If anyone finds me going through his shit?—”
“Are you scared?” Aria stared at me.
“What? Fuck, no, I’m not scared. I’m realistic, and I have a sense of self-preservation. Don’t roll your eyes.”
“I’m not.” She widened her eyes, waving her hand in front of her face.
A smile tugged at my lips. “Yeah, but you wanted to. Don’t deny it.”
“Whatever,” she muttered, climbing to her feet and heading through the wide archway that split the space between a dressing area and a personal study. I heard a loud creak, followed by a muffled swear word, and I sighed again, rising to my own feet. It wasn’t a good idea to leave Aria to her own devices in my grandfather’s private wing. I hadn’t been joking about my sense of self-preservation. If anyone found us snooping around, I’d have no excuse. No reason to be in here, in a house that wasn’t even my own, when everyone else was downstairs celebrating.
“Tristan!”
I moved faster, crossing the space to find Aria leaning over my grandfather’s desk. Papers were spread across the surface, and one of the drawers was wide open, more papers spilling out.
“Aria! What the fuck,” I hissed, but she beckoned to me impatiently.
“Look. I spotted the symbol on the cover of this book in the very first drawer I tried.”
I stared at the leather folder— not a book—that Aria had discovered. Sliding it across the desk, I carefully pressed down on the metal clasp, and it popped open.
My breath caught in my throat.
“The missing pages,” Aria breathed.
Angling my phone so the torchlight fell across the paper, I began to read, snapping photos at the same time.
As I turned over the final page, scanning the remaining few lines of text, a soft creak sounded from outside the room. Aria and I froze, and then, as one, moved, stuffing the papers back into the folder, closing the drawer, and trying to make the desk look as it did before we’d started digging around.
Another creak sounded.
My heart was pounding like I’d run a marathon. My fingers found Aria’s, and I curled them around hers, squeezing her shaking hand. We both held our breath, listening.
Everything fell silent.
Then, the door that led to the hallway opened, my grandfather’s frame filling the space.