Chapter 12 #2
His eyes flicker with arousal, and he smiles darkly.
“Fucking oath I am.” He stands and tears his jacket over his shoulders and throws it to the side with urgency.
“Starving, actually.” He grabs a paper bag from the inside pocket and then pulls out a box of condoms. “Do you know how many fucking pharmacies I just went to to find these?”
I chuckle.
“I couldn’t find one. I even contemplated going into the brothel on the corner and offering them a hundred dollars for a box.”
“I’m not going to ask you how you know that there’s a brothel on the corner.” I raise my eyebrow.
He frowns, realizing what he’s just revealed. “Shut up, Siri.” He unzips his trousers and pushes them down, revealing his hard, thick cock.
My stomach flutters, and I giggle in excitement. It’s like Christmas morning, and I’m watching my presents being unwrapped.
This time with him is different. I’m not nervous or scared. I’m excited, because I know how good this night is going to be.
He drops to his knees beside the bed and pulls me over to him and then spreads my legs and studies me there.
My breath catches as I watch him. This is strangely intimate ... but it’s okay, because it’s him. And I know how much he loves my body.
I don’t have one insecurity when I’m naked with him. He wouldn’t let me even if I did.
“Ohh,” he whispers darkly. “I missed this pretty pussy.” He kisses me there with an open mouth, and I reach down and put my fingers in his hair. His thick tongue swipes through my flesh, and I smile as I watch him.
Tristan Miles doesn’t go down on women for them ... he does it for himself.
He loves it.
It’s his favorite thing; he could do it for an hour, and I would still have to drag him up to me.
My back arches in pleasure, and I whimper. His licks are hard and slow, measured for the perfect pressure.
We get into a rhythm, and my body begins to shudder. He smiles into me.
He links our fingers on my thigh. Our eyes are locked and ... oh God.
He’s perfect.
The way he holds my hand as he eats me. The way he looks at me.
The way he enjoys it.
No wonder I’m addicted to this man; he’s the world’s greatest lover.
He begins to flick his tongue in a practiced move, and I convulse.
Shit.
I have no defense against him when he does that. I begin to moan.
He spreads my legs farther apart, his hands on my inner thighs. His entire face is wet with my arousal now, and I begin to writhe under him.
It hits me like a freight train, and I scream out in wonder. He smiles into me as his eyes close in pleasure once more.
The shock waves of the world’s strongest orgasm shudder through me, and then he picks me up and throws me over onto my knees. I hear the telling rip of the condom packet, and then he twists my ponytail around his hand and pulls me back onto his cock.
Oh God ... he’s in that mood ... he’s going to ride me home ... literally.
He hisses as he slides in deep, and my body shakes, still too sensitive from his tongue.
I drop my shoulders into the mattress, unable to hold myself up, and he jerks me back up onto his cock by the hair and slaps my behind. “Up,” he commands in a growl.
I smile. Oh, I love him like this.
He slowly slides in ... and then slides out. In and then out. He gives his cock a delicious deep circle, taking his time to stretch me. No matter how turned on he is, he’s always careful to prepare my body. He knows he’s a big man, and his experience shows. “You all right?” he breathes.
I nod.
“Answer me.”
“Yes,” I whimper. But I’m not all right; sex with Tristan is not all right ... it’s a blinding light. So much more than all right.
It’s everything.
He slides out, and the sound of my wet arousal sucks in the air. “It’s time for you to learn a lesson, Anderson,” he whispers.
I smile. “Siri to you.”
He chuckles and slams in hard, and I cry out.
Ouch.
He gives me a few hard pumps.
“What’s the lesson?” I whimper, his grip on my hair near painful.
“You don’t get to break up with me.” He pumps me hard, and I nearly bounce headfirst into the wall. “We don’t end ... until we both decide.” He slams me hard again, and it’s so good that my body begins to ripple around him once more.
He jerks me by the hair, and I smile up at the ceiling, his cock riding me in hard, measured strokes.
“Do you understand me?” he pants.
“No.” I giggle.
Slap. His hand comes down on my behind.
“Ouch,” I whimper.
His hips pick up the pace. “We don’t end ... until we fucking end.” The bed begins to hit the wall with force. His grip is painful.
“Tell me you fucking understand,” he moans.
Butterflies flutter deep in my stomach. Hearing the arousal in his voice does things to me. “Yes,” I pant.
“Yes what?” he growls.
“I understand.”
He lets go and really lets me have it, and it’s beautiful and blinding, and I’m sure the concierge is going to be knocking on the door any moment because the bed is hitting the wall so hard that I’m positive we’re causing structural damage.
“Fuck,” he moans, his voice deep and guttural. “Anderson ... fuck me,” he growls, losing control. “Fuck me harder.” His grip tightens, his pumps get harder, and God, this is next-level incredible.
I screw up my face as I try to hold it, and he slaps my behind again. I scream out, and I clench as I come in a rush. He holds himself deep, and I feel his cock jerk hard inside of me.
He lets me go, lays me down, rolls me onto my back, and then slides back into my body. His lips take mine with a tenderness I’ve never known.
We stare at each other for a prolonged moment, and I can feel his cock gently pulsating inside of me as it tries to completely empty itself.
“I missed you, Anderson,” he whispers as he brushes the hair back from my face.
I stare up at him, shocked. An unwelcome emotion overwhelms me, and I blink to stop the tears.
This isn’t how this is supposed to go.
I expected a booty call, but this feels special and intimate.
We kiss, and I feel my heart constrict in my chest. This was a bad idea.
I want to go home.