Chapter 33 Tristan
TRISTAN
I put the phone on speaker mode and place it beside her head. Ligaya’s mouth opens in shock.
“Hi? Ligaya? Are you there?” A man’s voice rattles us both.
I lift my chin, urging her to answer.
“Yes, I’m here.”
Resuming my position between her legs, I apply slow lingering licks over her folds.
“I heard you’re pregnant, is that true?”
“Who told you?” She’s a little distracted so the question sounds garbled. I wrap my lips around Ligaya’s clit and suck hard.
She squeaks in surprise.
“Are you OK?” the nosy son of a bitch asks.
“I’m . . . I’m . . .”
She’s soaked for me and ready to come on my mouth, that’s what.
“Ligaya?”
“Yes! Yes, I’m pregnant!”
“Who’s the father?”
I press my tongue over her clit while massaging her entrance with two fingers. She lifts her hips to seek added pressure and makes a sound so sexy, I graze my teeth against one inner thigh.
She lifts her hips up while rubbing my hair.
“You don’t know him,” she mutters absentmindedly.
I bite her other inner thigh and suck, leaving a hickey. It’s a reminder that I expect her to speak to this guy for the last time. Her ex needs to stay out of the picture permanently.
I graze my teeth against her rounded clit. Ligaya crunches up and our eyes lock in a hot, lust-filled stare. The air is thick with the palpable intensity of a challenge.
“Say my name,” I hiss under my breath.
“Tristan. His name is Tristan Thorne,” she answers between shallow pants.
I offer an approving nod before returning to her wet pussy.
“Are you working out or something?” The man’s irritation is loud and clear.
“I have to go,” Ligaya says curtly.
“Wait. Did you say Tristan Thorne? The hockey player?”
I grab one ass cheek possessively and use my other hand to cup her soaked center before slipping my fingers in. She squeaks. I press my thumb over her clit while working her inside walls. As she watches me, I lick her delicious arousal coating my lower lip.
“Oh god!” She gasps and pushes her hips up.
“Ligaya?” the man’s voice sounds rattled.
Her body wiggles under me. When we make eye contact, she seems dazed.
“Tell him,” I mouth silently.
“Don’t call me again,” she says in a rush, ends the call, and throws her phone over her head.
I curl my fingers and suck her clit as Ligaya unravels under me. Her climax is so powerful, her back bucks and her walls squeeze my fingers in pulsing beats.
As she slowly comes down from her high, I indulge in luxurious kisses over her rounded belly.
Her back arches, welcoming the greedy tugs of my mouth on her nipples.
I attempt to put the entirety of a breast in my mouth.
She’s so lush, the endeavor is blissfully impossible.
I do it again and again on each side. She moans my name.
“Need to be inside you, sweetheart.”
“I want that, too,” she says, but instead of opening her legs wider, she slips away and goes down on all fours. I’m treated to her rounded backside. I lean forward and run my lips over her sexy tattoo.
“Please, Tristan. I need you inside me.”
I chuckle because there’s no need to beg on my behalf. I stroke up and down her soaked seam with the plum head of my cock. She pushes back into me, inviting me to slip in with one thrust.
“Goddamn, you feel amazing. Tight and perfect.”
I wait for her to adjust to my size. After a beat, she begins swirling her hips. That’s my hint to begin slow, steady pumps that build us up to the brink of euphoria. We’re teetering at that edge. I lean down, one hand supporting my weight and the other reaching for her nipple. I tweak it.
“Oh god, that feels so good. I’m so sensitive there and everywhere.”
We roll our hips, grinding relentlessly. Her pussy tightens in a fluttering rhythm and my balls tighten. She convulses around me and it’s too incredible to hold back.
“Permission to fuck you hard.”
She lets out a sound between a laugh and a moan. “Granted.”
I grab her hips and bounce her against my groin.
“Fuck.” My voice is gritty, my orgasm impossible to hold back. Fighting off the heat shooting down my spine takes all my willpower. The rhythmic pounding and the crass slapping sound of wet skin colliding is too damn good. It’s torture and ecstasy together.
“Oh, god, just like that,” she whines.
Ligaya’s head drops on the mattress, changing the angle of her body so I’m even deeper.
“Come with me. Tristan,” she screams in the frenzy.
The edges of my vision darken as surge after surge of my cum fills her. The pleasure doesn’t cease till I’m emptied out.
When we’ve both recovered, I fall to her side and pull her to my chest. My spill is sticky between us. I have a perverse need to push it back into her channel.
“That was incredible,” she mumbles with a sated smile. I trace the smile with my finger.
“You’re incredible.”
It’s true. She rocks my world. My arms wrap around her even tighter, grabbing her the way I want to grab the future we’re creating together. Ligaya is a sensual lover who will also be an amazing mother. The future doesn’t make sense without her.
“Marry me,” I declare without warning. It’s so unexpected, I surprise even myself. Yet once the words leave my mouth, they feel right. Inevitable, even. Fate and circumstance brought us together. Now that she’s in my arms, I don’t want to let her go. Ever.
“Before the babies are born, let’s make it official.” I nuzzle into her neck.
She stiffens and pushes against my chest.
“Are you joking right now?”
I don’t answer immediately, merely lean our foreheads together. I want her to feel, not just hear, my wish to take care of her and our babies in every way.
“You need to work on your postcoital bed manners, Tristan Thorne. Or you’re going to give me a heart attack. Marriage jokes are not funny.” She wiggles out of my arms and stands up so fast, I’m worried she might hurt herself. Ligaya goes to the bathroom and shuts the door.
The haphazard declaration wasn’t my smoothest move, admittedly, but she can’t possibly question my seriousness when I ask her to marry me. That’s not a joke. Our chemistry is unbelievable, and our children need stability.
Isn’t that what she said? That’s what I want for us, too.
It makes perfect sense to get married, live together, raise our children as a family. Plus, who’s gonna cook for her? She’s hungry all the time! I’ll move in here till we buy a bigger place. The kids will need their own rooms. Does she even have a second bedroom in this townhouse?
That sounds like something I should know.
Anyway, we can iron out the details later.
With utmost patience, I wait for her to join me back on the bed.
She comes out wearing a silky robe. For a moment, I stare at the tug of the fabric across her breasts and belly. She has the curves of a goddess.
“Come here, Ligaya.”
“You can’t say shit like that, Tristan.”
“Excuse me?”
“The sex was incredible and obviously caused temporary insanity. Time to snap out of it.”
“I might not know a lot of things, sweetheart, but asking you to marry me is definitely the most logical and sane thing I’ve ever done.”
She blinks and shakes her head.
“How flattering for you to want to marry me logically.” Sarcasm drips from every word. “That’s what every woman dreams of having. A sane proposal!”
With that, she stomps out of the room. I chase after her.
“That’s not what I meant!”
“It’s because of what your father said, isn’t it?” She whips the air with that sharp accusation.
“What does my father have to do with us?”
“To show him I’m not a gold digger, you’re going to put a ring on my finger. You’re compelled to prove him wrong. Well, I’m not willing to be a pawn in this power struggle for your conscience, Tristan.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“This is what I mean by things getting complicated. This, right here!”
“Is it a complication if things make sense?”
“There you go again. I am not a puzzle you have to solve or a pregnant woman whose reputation you have to save. Marriage is about love, not obligation!”
The words echo in my head.
Marriage is about love, not obligation.
“And you don’t think you can love me,” I state somberly, swallowing the lump of embarrassment in my throat.
“Tristan, no! That’s not what I said.” Her brows furrow, and she pushes hair away from her forehead roughly.
She regrets the harshness of her words, I can tell. Ligaya reaches out and pets my forearm the way people do when they feel sorry for you.
I deserve pity, but not love.
Well, that sucks.
“I don’t want to fight, Ligaya. I’m sorry. You’re right, we shouldn’t force the issue. Nothing changes, after all. I’ll still always take care of you and the babies.”
“Tristan.” She comes forward and wraps her arms around my waist. Although my chest is tight, I pull her to me even tighter.
She’s right, of course. I’m out of line, expecting she’d want more when there’s already so much she’s giving the twins. Her body, her care, her future.
If she’s holding out for love, who can blame her?
If only we could rewind the last few minutes before I made a fool of myself.