21. Tristian
Chapter twenty-one
Tristian
Stepping out of my bedroom, I found my little doll perched on the kitchen counter, quietly drinking a coffee.
“You shouldn’t drink that this late, doll. You’ll be up all night.” It was late enough already, and the caffeine would keep her up into the early hours, but she sipped happily. So I just let her, knowing she needed a distraction from the events of the night. The worst of it, at least.
I hadn’t done myself any favors by ignoring her. My silence had been a weapon that made her feel small, and the guilt of it sat heavy in my gut.
Darragh had pushed too fucking hard. He had to be absolutely insane if he thought I would ever play the part of his puppet, especially after the stunt he pulled at the club. I wouldn’t allow him to lay a finger on Ingrid again.
“Doll?” I said.
She looked up, and her smile brightened instantly.
She was swimming in one of my oversized sweatshirts.
I did my best to look away from her exposed legs, not wanting to let the predatory side of my brain take over while she looked so fragile.
She set the empty mug on the counter and hopped down, padding over to me.
She slipped her hand into mine, humming a soft tune as she sat on one leg, thigh brushing up against mine.
“I’m going to the hospital tomorrow,” I whispered.
She frowned, drifting closer until her warmth pressed into my skin.
“Why?” she asked, her voice tinged with a flicker of fear.
I sighed, staring at nothing for a moment. “My mother. I actually want you to meet her.”
“Really?” Her eyes lit up with a sudden, genuine spark.
I felt a rare sense of warmth as I tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear and nodded. “Of course, doll.”
Suddenly, she seemed hesitant. I furrowed my eyebrows. “Ingrid?”
“What if she doesn’t like me?” she asked gently.
I could only tsk, grabbing her other hand as I guided her to straddle my thighs. She rested her palms against my chest, refusing to make eye contact as I ran my hand up and down the soft skin of her leg.
“She’s not going to like you, doll,” I murmured against the soft skin of her neck.
I felt her tense.
Then I nipped her there, slow and playfully. “She’s going to love you.”
She smiled lightly. Then she looked down.
Her fingers grazing my skin, fire surging inside of me as her fingers danced along my bare chest. I was getting used to sharing parts of myself with her.
My past, my art, my thoughts. She was one of the only people in this lifetime that had seen my tattoos, had seen the darkest thoughts displayed on my body.
She was memorizing them, piece by piece.
A tinge of red bloomed in her cheeks. Suddenly she didn’t seem able to meet my gaze.
“Everything okay, doll?” I asked.
Her blush intensified until it looked painful. “I… have a question for y-you… Have you ever…” She trailed off, retreating into the sleeves of the sweatshirt.
I didn’t want to let her hide. “What is it doll?” My hands continued to roam over her thighs comfortingly.
“…Have you ever had sex?” she whispered.
Immediately my hand froze. What? It took me a minute to process the situation, process the question, wrap my head around what exactly it was she was saying to me.
Then… my hand giving her thigh a firm, grounding squeeze, sliding intentionally higher up her legs, I let out a heavy breath. “I have, baby…”
Her face flared hot. “O-oh…”
“I’m assuming you haven’t, and that is perfectly fine, baby.”
Fine.
Fine was a lie.
This was driving me insane. My mind had drifted past soft. Past decency. Past anything that would keep a weak man sane with this level of sweet temptation.
“I guess it is…” she murmured. She finally looked me dead in the eye, her voice dropping to a vulnerable breath. “I trust you…”
That was a dangerous thing to say to a man like me.
I frowned, my grip on her tightening. “You trust me to do what, exactly?”
She tried to look away again, but I caught her jaw in my hand, forcing her to stay with me. “What is it, doll?” I pushed, trying to keep my own racing thoughts in check.
She gulped.
“Can you… teach me how?”
“No.” I shook my head immediately. “You don’t know what you’re asking for, baby.”
She shook her head back at me stubbornly. “I do. I mean… I’m not very experienced, but I know what’s supposed to happen. I want my firsts to be with you…”
My eyes darkened. A primal, territorial heat tearing through me. Here she was… on my lap, trusting me, all warm, soft… and she’s asking me who I’ve fucked? She has no idea what she’s doing to me.
“Ingrid…” I warned, though even I wasn’t sure who I was warning—her or myself.
She leaned in, wrapping her arms around my torso as if anchoring herself to me. “You probably can t-tell already, but I… like you a lot and… I trust you…”
I let out a long, ragged sigh. A part of me wanted to shut this down, to protect whatever innocence she had left from a man like me.
But another part—the part that had been starving for her since the moment we met—fucking loved this.
After the tension of the past couple of days without contact, and the drama of tonight with Darragh, my self-control was dwindling.
I made her stand for a second, much to her confusion, before turning her around and pulling her back onto my lap so her back was flush against my chest. I spread her legs, a sharp gasp escaping her as I hooked my hands under her knees and pulled them up toward her chest.
“Hold your hands under your knees,” I commanded.
She obeyed instantly. Together, we both looked down at the slight mound of her clothed center. I slid my hand down her stomach, landing directly over her heat. She jolted, looking up at me over her shoulder, but I kept my eyes on my hand.
I could feel her.
Hot. Wet.
Already soaking through the thin fabric of her shorts.
I rubbed my thumb over her clit, and she let out a soft, melodic moan right against my ear.
I closed my eyes, trying to block out the sound. If I didn’t, I was going to lose my mind and take her on the kitchen counter. But she didn’t stop. The sounds became more desperate, her body opening instinctively as I increased the speed of my thumb, feeling her get wetter beneath my palm.
“Feels good, baby?” I asked.
She nodded frantically, trying to bury her face in the crook of my neck. I smirked, my thumb moving in relentless circles.
“You gotta tell me, doll, or else I won’t know. How does it feel, baby?”
She let out a shaky breath. “It… it feels g-good.”
“Do I have your permission to go further?” I asked. I wasn’t going to cross a line she wasn’t ready for, no matter how much I wanted to.
“Y-yes,” she whispered.
I reached under her and gripped the edge of her underwear, slowly pulling the fabric aside. She instinctively tried to press her legs together, hiding herself.
“Open your legs, baby…” I growled into her ear. “Let me see you.”
She bit her lip, staring forward. “I…”
I pressed a calming kiss to her cheek. Slowly, she parted her legs again. I sucked in a sharp breath. She was shaved, pink, and glistening—an absolute masterpiece on full display.
“There’s a good girl…” I whispered.
She held her legs back, watching with wide eyes as my thumb found her bare clit.
“Look how fucking wet you are,” I muttered.
She jolted as I finally pushed a single finger inside her.
“Fucking tight too…” I pushed in again, curling my knuckle upward.
She whimpered, the sound higher, more desperate, punching straight through my restraint.
I did it again, hitting the spot that made her toes curl.
I was letting her feel every inch of it, letting her get used to the stretch. Her hips started to move—tiny, instinctive rolls that told me her body was already learning mine.
Only when she relaxed, when her breath turned soft and needy—did I test her.
I slid my finger out slowly… then pressed back in with the faintest tease of a second one.
She sat up slightly, mouth ready to speak, but I shushed her softly. “Not yet, doll. I’m just stretching you. Letting your body learn the feeling.”
Her voice shook. “It… feels like a lot.”
“Yeah, baby.” My voice thickened. “That’s because it is.”
I fucked her with that one finger until she couldn’t take it anymore. Until her hips chased the friction and her breath came out in desperate, broken sounds.
Only then—only when she whispered, “Please”—did I give her more.
I slid my first finger out halfway… pressed back in… and let the tip of a second finger join it, just barely.
She moaned, trembling violently.
“Easy, baby,” I murmured, kissing the side of her mouth. “I’ve got you.”
And slowly, I eased the second finger in beside the first, letting her feel every second of the new fullness. If I was going to teach her, I was going to do it right.
I groaned low in my throat, my chest vibrating against hers. The feeling of her slick velvet cunt gripping me like it wanted to choke my fingers was the most tempting feeling in the world. I was losing it, I was going to fucking lose it.
“You’re killing me, doll,” I growled against her neck. “This sweet little pussy… fuck—so damn tight I can barely move.”
My hands curled as I tried with all my willpower to block out her sounds.
That was when my fingers moved harder, deeper, playing with her little pussy like it was my own little toy. Her legs started going slack, but I caught one thigh and hiked it back up, lifting her open without effort. The other leg trembled in the air.
“You keep that fucking leg up,” I snarled in her ear, my breath hot and ragged against her neck.
She nodded immediately, frantic, obedient—her voice barely a whisper.
“O-okay…”
She whined softly, body shuddering as she was getting close.
“Fuck, you’re making such a mess, doll.”
Her breathing came in frantic hitches. “Wait… wait,” she gasped.
I shushed her, refusing to slow down. “It’s okay, doll. You’re going to cum, baby. Just let it happen…”
Her thighs tightened around my arm, her hips jerking as her body tried to fight the pleasure and chase it at the same time. Then—
Her cunt clenched around my fingers, hard, desperate. Her back arched as she came with a loud, ruined moan, shaking apart in my hands.
“There’s a good fucking girl… keep going. I want to see you wet my fingers more, baby…”
Her whole body jolted, helpless, overstimulated, her legs kicking, her hands clawing at my arm as the aftershocks tore through her.
My own body was screaming at me to finish this properly, sit her on my dick, to bury myself in her warmth, but I held myself back by a thread.
A very thin thread.
As her shaking finally slowed, I slid my fingers out. Her pussy clenched around nothing, still pulsing, still hungry. I lifted my hand to my mouth, watching her the whole time.
I moaned at the sweetness of it. She looked at me in total shock. I turned her in my arms, letting her rest against my shoulder as I helped her stand and pulled her underwear back into place.
“No more?” she asked softly.
I almost smiled. She could barely stand, and yet she was already asking for another round.
“Doll. No. It’s been a long day. You need your sleep.”
She pouted, straddling my lap again. Her expression was a mix of sadness and lingering desire. I looked deep into her eyes, my voice turning stern.
“And what I don’t want to see is a bratty, needy little girl beg or pout for something she’s not getting… understood?”
The pout vanished instantly as she nodded. I placed one last kiss on her lips, a smirk tugging at my mouth.
“Good girl…”