Chapter 44
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
DAPHNE
Dried leaves and twigs dig into the back of my arms as Tristan tugs my wrists higher, keeping me pinned to the forest floor. Moss and earth perfume the air around me until he leans closer, the spicy bite of his cologne wiping out everything else.
He dips his head into the crux of my neck and groans. His plastic mask digs into the curve along my collarbone as he traces his face lower.
My heart hammers so hard I think he can hear it. My lungs ache from running, and I can’t catch my breath. Every gulp of air is loaded with Tristan’s in my system, and I can’t escape.
I don’t want to.
I so want this. But I’m not ready to give in to my fantasy just yet.
I jerk my wrists to encourage him to play fight with me again, and he takes the bait.
His hands cross my wrists over one another, and he pins me with his dominant hand.
He chuckles as he pulls back to gaze at me from behind the black mesh. “You know I like a challenge, Princess. Keep fighting. We’ll see who wins.”
Oh, I’m already winning, but I wriggle under him anyway.
With his free hand, Tristan grabs the torn satin nightie and tugs it down, revealing both breasts. His rough thumb coasts over the peak of my nipple to send little ripples of sensation across my chest and down to my pussy.
Until he pinches me and pain chases pleasure. He holds my breast in his rough hand and squeezes.
I’m supposed to be fighting back, but I love what he’s doing to me.
I arch into his touch. My shoulders dig into the cool dirt that’s icy against my feverish skin.
“Is this what you wanted, Princess?” he teases before he releases my breast and gives it a sharp slap.
A burst of pain breaks across my skin, and my hips buck against his. “Yes,” I admit. God, this is exactly what I wanted. Almost. I need more.
My core aches with an emptiness only this man can fill. Tristan does it for me. Not just his body, but him. I’d had this fantasy before about some attractive guy chasing me down, and who he was never mattered. Just what he could do for me.
But Tristan is better than any fantasy my imagination could whip up.
And he’s real.
His hips press into me, and his bugle pushes against the lace of my matching panties, grazing my clit.
Yep, he’s real.
My hip moves against his, and a groan slips from behind the mask.
“Fucking tease.” His hand reaches between us, cold air slipping between our hot bodies and chilling my skin.
I hear the jingle of his belt and the pull of his zipper. Fabric rustles, and I feel the slap of his cock springing free against my inner thigh.
He’s so close, and my body is aching for him. He’s the only thing in this world that could satisfy the bone-deep craving swirling in me.
His fingers slip under the lace of my panties. He grips the lace, and he pulls.
The sound of shredding fabric fills the air. Lace bites into my skin with resistance before the material gives way. Tristan clutches my wet panties in his fist like they’re a trophy.
Until he tosses them aside, digs into his pocket, and pulls out the green satin robe tie I used to trick him.
He pulls my arms forward until my wrists are crossed in front of me.
I don’t fight him on this and keep my wrists together as he contorts the tie around my wrists, binding them together. He ties a knot, then a bow, like I’m a damn present.
He pauses for a moment, like he’s admiring his handiwork from behind the mask.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, Daph. I love you so much it hurts to look at you.”
His words steal the breath from my lungs. The raw emotion rips my soul open, leaving me bare to him in a way I never knew possible.
How could I feel so vulnerable, yet so safe with someone?
Tears prick the corners of my eyes.
With one hand, Tristan raises my arms back above my head, arching my back against the dirt.
His free hand skates down the swell of my stomach until he finds my clit. His small strokes cause swirls of hot pleasure to ripple from my core and out to the tips of my fingers and toes.
My hips buck, trying to position him against me. I can’t fight it anymore. I need him. My body’s on fire, and Tristan’s the only person in this entire universe who can save me from spontaneously combusting.
“Please,” I beg. My hips jerk against him, and his cock slips between my wet lips.
He pulls his fingers away from my clit and slides against me to coat himself in my arousal.
“I thought taking you would be more of a challenge,” he teases. “You want it so fucking bad, Daphne. Your pussy is already fucking dripping, and I haven’t even fucked you yet.”
“Then what are you waiting for?” My voice trembles as the underside of his cock nudges my clit, sending another burst of pleasure in my core like fireworks.
“Look at me, Love.”
I don’t know where the hell I was staring off at, but I force my gaze onto the mask.
Those vacant black eyes linger on me, and I can almost picture Tristan’s multicolored eyes twinkling from behind the fabric.
The triumphant smirk on his lips, knowing I’m cornered and willing to do almost anything he asks.
I’m too far gone. He’s captured and claimed a piece of my heart I’ll never get back. And I don’t want it.
It’s his. It’s always been his.
Tristan’s hips ease back as he notches the head of his cock against my wet opening. “If you want it, Princess, tell me what I want to hear.”
“I…” The word squeezes from my throat, tight and heavy with emotion. “I love you, Tristan.”
He freezes over me, and time stands still until a soft chuckle escapes under his mask. “I caught you, Princess. Game’s over.” He hunches over, his mask leaning in towards my face.
I can make out that glint in his eyes behind the mesh.
“You’re mine, Daphne Fox.”
Tristan thrusts and fills me. His hips piston in and out until he buries himself to the base. His cock stretches me in a heady mix of pleasure and pain. His balls rest against my ass, and his hips spread my legs wider to accommodate him.
I’m so full. It’s too much, yet it’s perfect.
He’s perfect.
He pulls himself almost entirely out of my pussy, then pounds back into me with a force that drives me backward. A twig digs into my shoulder. The ground’s icy under my skin again as he grips my hips and lifts me higher.
He sinks deeper.
Stars dance behind my fluttering eyelids. “Tristan,” I gasp.
He chuckles. “Are you sure it’s Tristan, Princess? How can you know for sure who a masked man is?”
If he’s trying to rile me up, I know exactly how to get back at him for that. I force my eyes open and stare at the mask.
“Unless you’re his twin, I’m pretty confident.”
Tristan releases my hip as he covers my mouth with his large palm.
I have the childish urge to lick it until he thrusts again. His hand catches my moan as my eyes close.
“Eyes on me, Princess,” Tristan growls.
I obey and force my eyes open.
He pulls out and then thrusts back in like a reward. “It’s just the two of us here,” he says with surprising softness. “No one else. Just you and me.”
I nod. “Just us,” I repeat back, but his hand muffles the words.
Tristan removes his hand and leans low as his hand lifts his mask above his mouth.
His lips find mine. His hand cups my face with a gentleness that contrasts with his hard thrusts into me, slow and methodical. He’s not fucking me for pleasure. He’s making a point. It’s only the two of us here, and no one else needs to be mentioned. Reality isn’t part of our fantasy.
My arms circle around Tristan’s neck. The fabric bites into my arms as I pull him closer, as his body shields me from the rest of the world.
Tristan’s hips roll, striking that perfect spot with each thrust.
Tristan groans above me as his hips quicken their pace.
Tension builds in my lower belly, coiling tighter with each divine movement. His hips press into me, and his groin skims my clit with each unrelenting pound of his hips.
“Tristan.” I gasp. I’m so close now. I need it—just a little more.
Tristan pulls out of me, leaving a hollow emptiness that aches. “Not yet, Princess. Not until you’ve earned it.”
Huh? My mind’s still trying to reckon with the fact that my orgasm’s fading in the ether and my body’s damp with cool sweat, brought to the brink of something amazing, only to have it pulled away.
“Hold onto me,” he gasps.
My mind’s a sex-drunk fog, but his hands splay under my ass, and he tilts me. He leans back, and I hold onto him, my arms still bound around the back of his neck. I hug him tighter as he adjusts me until I’m sitting upright in his lap.
“Put your legs around me, Love.”
I obey, my ankles locking around the small of his back.
With one hand under my ass and the other planted on the forest floor, Tristan hoists us both up until he’s standing.
Holy shit, he’s strong.
He takes a few steps forward, and my shoulder presses into something hard and biting.
A tree.
I keep my grip on him as Tristan holds onto my ass. His fingertips dig into the flesh, and I’m going to have bruises tomorrow. But I don’t care once Tristan thrusts into me again. Harder. Punishing.
My body sinks down onto his cock, and he leverages me against the tree, using me to keep us balanced as he drives himself into me harder.
God, he feels so damn good. But I need more.
I grip the back of the mask and pull it higher, revealing his lips, the rest of his face hidden.
My lips find his, and we’re moaning, our tongues tangling as his thrusts become quicker.
He hits that spot inside me again, and I cry out in pleasure into our kiss.
“That’s it, Princess. Now you’ve earned it.” Tristan smirks at me as his hips keep that delicious rhythm that makes my body sing for him.
My orgasm builds faster this time, bringing me right to the brink, ready to push me over the edge.
“Tristan,” I warn. I beg. I plead. I need.
“Come for me, Daphne. Show me you’re mine.”
His words undo me, and I cry out into the forest. My eyes close as unearthly sounds rip from my throat, my orgasm flinging me to the heavens. Stars and dots of color burst in technicolor behind my closed eyes, and my body’s breaking apart like fireworks.
And Tristan doesn’t relent. He keeps thrusting into me, drawing out my pleasure until his cock swells, jerks, and spills into me.
“Daphne,” He cries out, his pleasure mixing with mine in the morning air.
His hips still, but his cock twitches again and again, drawing out my orgasm.
As my pleasure ebbs away and I’m fighting for air, Tristan holds me tighter to him, taking my weight as he pulls me away from the tree and lowers me back onto the earth.
My eyes open, and Tristan’s half-masked face is framed by a foggy morning sky speckled with leaves overhead. His kiss-plump lips are parted as he catches his breath.
“Tristan,” I start, my mind so overwhelmed I can’t think straight. “I lo—”
He cuts me off. “I love you, Daphne.” His voice is hoarse, but he continues. “You’re my world, Love. I will always love you. And I will always find you.”
“I love you.” The words slip from my tongue so naturally now as his lips find mine, sealing this moment in a kiss.
He kisses words off my tongue and tastes the overwhelming joy wrapped in a hazy afterglow.
His tongue teases mine, and I relax into the kiss.
I feel it. Deep into the glittery marrow of my love-struck bones, I feel it.
I’ve fallen for the man behind the mask.