Chapter 42 Tristan
TRISTAN
My arm wraps around her waist as we walk through the lobby and climb into the elevator.
I guide her to the side to make room for other people.
Ligaya is in front of me. She presses back, vixen that she is, knowing that the silk of her dress hardly muffles the curve of her ass against my stiffening cock.
She makes a cute whimpering noise when I grip her hip possessively.
A man glances back at her and smiles, but he turns around real quick when I glare at him. Ligaya looks over her shoulder. She’s much shorter when she doesn’t have her heels on, so she has to crane her neck to hold my gaze.
Once we’re alone, I spin her around and fuse our mouths. I’ve been patient, holding back while we’re in public. I’m starved for her. All week I had been dreaming of kissing Ligaya, grabbing her ass, burying my head between these gorgeous breasts.
Finally, the elevator doors open to our floor. She pulls me down the hallway and lets us in.
“Ate?” she calls out.
“She went home,” I inform her.
“You two were in cahoots this whole week.”
Ever practical, Ligaya takes the food I had forgotten I’m carrying and places it in a fridge tucked away by the liquor cabinet. Smart woman. We’ll be building up an appetite tonight.
I lift her in my arms, and she digs her nails into my neck, clinging desperately. Her tongue sticks out to lick the sweat on my neck and she hums. She tugs off my tie as I lower her to the couch. We frantically unbutton my shirt. She goes for my pants, but I stop her.
“Stand up,” I order. “Let me see more of this dress before I rip it off and fuck you on every surface of this suite.”
We switch places, me on the couch and Ligaya on her feet.
She flits to the end of the room and runs her hands over each side of her hair.
A shampoo model pose that has my body buzzing.
It’s torture and heaven to watch her hands glide down her sides and then up to cup those heavy breasts.
Her nipples are candy hard. My mouth waters with the expectation of how delicious they’ll be.
With hypnotic sensuality, Ligaya glides closer till she’s in front of me. Unexpectedly, she goes on her knees.
“I have this new craving.”
“Yeah?” I sound like I swallowed glass.
She nods and reaches to unbuckle my belt.
This time, I don’t stop her. I can’t wait to see those polished red nails around my cock.
She pulls down my pants and my cock springs free, stiff and beading with moisture.
There are no words to describe the sight of Ligaya in slack-jawed desperation to get her mouth around my cock.
“This is the only thing that will satisfy my craving.”
“Then take it, sweetheart. It’s all yours.”
She envelops my hardness with her hot mouth.
I hiss at the pleasure. One of my hands grips the couch roughly while the other tangles in her hair.
I don’t want to tug too hard, but her eager suction is a drug.
Everything about her is intoxicating: the sight of her pretty lips stretched to the extreme, the slight crease on her forehead as she struggles to fit me all the way in, the trickle of moisture down her chin as she chokes. Fucking. Gorgeous.
I avert my eyes to the ceiling when she holds me to the back of her throat.
“Stop,” I command. “I don’t want to come yet.”
With the barest of control, I pull out and guide her to her feet.
“Which is your room?” I ask.
She walks in front of me, hand tugging mine.
She could lead me into the middle of traffic, and I’d follow her lush curves.
Once in the bedroom, she turns to me and reaches behind her neck.
The halter top releases, baring her full breasts and taut nipples.
I tug at the fabric till the dress pools at her feet.
Ligaya is in a lacy thong and nothing else.
“Fuck, you’re so beautiful.” I lead her to the corner of the bed and lay her back, flinging her legs over my shoulders while I kneel on the floor. “You’re not the only one with cravings.”
I tug at her underwear and stare at her pussy, newly waxed.
“Do you like it? I was wearing a bathing suit, so . . .”
“Didn’t it hurt?” I ask.
“No. There was a gentle treatment and—”
“Oh, but it did hurt, sweetheart. Must be sore, huh? I need to kiss it better,” I state confidently. She catches on immediately.
“Will you kiss and make the soreness go away, Tristan? Only you know how to make me feel good.”
Fuck, yeah. Instead of answering with words, I trail my tongue over the smooth creases on each side of her pussy.
She wiggles and whimpers “don’t stop” while gripping my hair.
I spread her thighs wider and provide slow slides of my tongue through her opening, offering added pressure every time I glide over her clit.
“I could come with how fucking good you taste,” I admit with no shame.
“Oh god, Tristan. Yes!”
I add my fingers to the mix, and her hips arch up. My hair is tugged till it’s at the edge of pain, but there’s so much pleasure too, knowing her orgasm is mine to give.
After she comes down from her climax, Ligaya sits up. She tilts her chin toward a plush reading chair at the corner of the room. “That’s the perfect height.”
She stands up and palms my throbbing hardness.
“To fuck you while you’re on your knees,” I say in pretend nonchalance. “Sure, since you asked so nicely.”
“I’m not asking, Tristan. I’m begging.”
She crawls over and settles her knees on the seat, facing the back. Her ass juts out in what can only be described as the perfect height. This woman is rarely wrong.
I line myself up with her entrance, my thickness slick with her arousal, and bottom out. Slowly dragging out to feel every bit of delicious friction we create, I slip back into her tight grip. It’s too good. So deep. So fucking perfect.
“You OK, sweetheart?” I ask.
“Yes! Please don’t stop, Tristan. Just like that,” she mumbles through shallow breaths.
Because we haven’t been together in so long, I can already feel my explosion creeping down my spine.
“More,” she begs.
Instead of bouncing her off my hips with hard plunges, I hold myself still.
“Don’t want to be too rough, Ligaya. So you’re gonna come like this.” I grind against her with unrelenting circles of my groin. Buried inside her, I find the exact rhythm to make her moan louder and louder.
Her body stiffens. “I’m coming. Oh, god.”
Her walls convulse around my cock, pushing me over the edge.
“Fuck.” I let go, filling her with my climax as she chants my name over and over again. I hold her hips for dear life, even after a mind-blowing orgasm. When our heartbeats settle down, I guide her to her feet. She’s a tad wobbly, but her smile signifies blissful satisfaction.
“Wanna clean up together?” I ask, ready to carry her to the bathroom.
She nods, still looking dazed.
There’s plenty of space in the luxurious shower. I take my time washing her hair. Ligaya’s belly has rounded out even more. It’s the most pleasurable thing in the world to lather my hands with soap and glide them over her curves.
She presses my hand down when she feels a kick.
The movement under my palm feels like a miracle.
My heart is about to combust as it pushes against the cage of my chest, brimming with awe and love.
Ligaya takes my other hand and presses it lower down her stomach.
We stay that way, staring at each other with droplets catching on our lashes and water falling over our shoulders.
Her hands are over mine while the babies glide under my palms, like we’re all connected.
I had planned a grand speech for the romantic dinner but was distracted by everything Ligaya wanted to share of her vacation week. And once we entered the suite, all bets were off for a decent conversation. But now? My feelings for Ligaya are too strong to hold in.
“I love you,” I say reverently. “I came here planning to say exactly that the moment I saw you, or during dinner. But there never seems to be the exact time to admit something so big, you know? I wanted a perfect moment in this gorgeous place, but it wouldn’t matter where we were, would it?
Being with you and having our children thriving because of you is all that matters.
There isn’t one single moment to tell you I love you when every second of the day makes me love you more. ”
Her mouth opens in shock. I cradle her face in my hands.
“I love you, Ligaya Torres. I’ll spend my life showing you how much I love you, because you’re everything to me.”
She stares at me and pushes her hair out of her face. The flush spreads from her chest to her cheeks. A smile blooms, bringing sunshine indoors.
“I love you, too. I love you so much,” she gushes.
Her shoulders shake like she’s about to sob. I hold her close to comfort her shivering body.
“I didn’t think I’d ever feel this way with anyone, Tristan. When you’re beside me, when we’re together, I feel safe and loved and . . . and treasured.”
“With me, you’ll always be safe and loved and treasured.”
What I don’t say out loud is I didn’t know I could make someone feel safe and loved and treasured. That’s the miracle in the midst of all these unexpected circumstances.
There are still so many maybes in my life—my career, my place in Columbus, my ability to be a good father—but these uncertainties do not overshadow the clear and indelible fact that we love each other.