8. Simone #2
I picked the underwear purposefully. Nothing lacy, nothing that screamed lingerie .
A plain bra and panties in an ivory silk that matched my dress.
As utilitarian as bridal underwear could possibly be, and yet when Tristan’s fingers slide upward, finding my nipples under the stiff silk, it doesn’t feel utilitarian.
My body feels like it comes alive when his fingers skim over my nipples.
They stiffen instantly to firm points when his fingers pass over them, and I feel him respond, his body shifting against me so that he’s pressed behind me as those fingers hook over the cups of my bra, yanking the fabric down in the first sharp movement he’s made since we stepped into the bedroom.
His hands close over my bare breasts, broad and firm, palms pressed against the stiff and sensitive peaks of my nipples, and his mouth drops to the curve of my throat.
It’s so much sensation all at once, when I’ve never felt any of this before.
His hands on my breasts, his lips carving a path up my neck, and the hard shape of his cock pressed against me from behind, large and eager enough that I can feel it even through the layers of my dress and his suit trousers.
He groans against my skin, teeth nipping at my throat as he glides his mouth higher, and I clench my teeth to force myself to hold back a shuddering moan.
It feels so fucking good . I had no idea. No idea that it could feel like this, that his hands and mouth and body would make me feel like I’m on fire, and I refuse to let him know, to give him the slightest inclination that he’s arousing me beyond my wildest dreams.
Except… a chill runs through me as I remember that he’ll know. There’s no way to hide my arousal when we get down to it—any more than he could hide his.
“ Fuck , célie, ” he groans, his accent thickening as his lips meet the corner of my jaw, his warm breath tickling the edge of my ear.
I hold myself stiff and ramrod straight, anything to keep from arching back into him the way I want to, from letting him know what he’s doing to me. “You taste so sweet.”
His tongue flicks out against the shell of my ear, and his hands squeeze my breasts once more before he slides them out of my dress, reaching up to push the straps off of my shoulders.
The dress drops to my waist, and he pushes it down my hips, turning me as he backs me away from the puddle of silk and toward the bed.
“Fuck,” he breathes again as he pushes me down, my ass hitting the edge of the bed as I fall back and catch myself on my elbows. My chignon is coming down, my bra is tugged down to below my breasts, and all that’s left are my silk panties, clinging to my skin with…
Hot shame floods me as his gaze slides down and rests between my thighs, where my panties are soaked with the evidence of my desire.
A slow smirk spreads across Tristan’s mouth, and he runs his hand through his hair, the other going to his tie as he yanks it free, shedding it and his suit jacket. “I thought you hated me, banphrionsa .”
“I do,” I hiss between my teeth. “I can hate you and still…”
“Get absolutely fucking soaked for me?” He grins, flicking open the top buttons of his shirt as he leans over me, planting one hand on the bed beside my shoulder.
With his other hand, he reaches around my back, ignoring the way I flinch as he flicks open my bra, tugging the silk away from me and tossing it aside.
And then, he drops to his knees in front of me, his fingers going to the edge of my panties.
“Look at that.” The taunt spills from my lips before I can stop it. “I thought it was me who was going to be on my knees for you , Tristan. And look where you are already.”
That smirk on his mouth only grows. “Oh, don’t worry, célie ,” he murmurs, drawing my panties down my hips. “I’ll have you on your knees. But right now, what I want is you naked and exposed on my bed, that pretty pussy spread wide for me, while I eat you out until you come on my face.”
He tucks the panties into his pocket, a promising grin on his lips, and then his hands are on my thighs, spreading my legs apart in a quick movement as his gaze fixes directly between them.
Heat washes over my body, embarrassment and shame and a strange arousal that I don’t understand at being so exposed.
I’m held open by this man who has me naked and at his mercy while he’s still fully clothed, looking at my wet, swollen pussy as if he’s appraising a feast. He can see everything , I think, my face burning hot, and then Tristan leans down, puffing out a soft breath of air against my aching clit.
My body twitches, my head falling back, and I clench my teeth to keep from moaning.
He chuckles softly. “Keep your legs spread for me, célie . If you close them, I’ll punish you, understand?
I want this pussy open for me to do as I please with it.
And right now—” His hand leaves my thigh, his thumb sweeping up the spread folds of my pussy until he reaches my clit, pressing down with a force that makes my body jerk.
“What I want is to make this perfect, virgin pussy come.”
“I’m not going to come for you.” I spit out the words, breathless, and Tristan laughs, rolling his thumb over my clit. It feels so fucking good. All the times that I’ve touched myself, it’s never felt this good, and now…
I fight the building pleasure, jaw clenched so tightly that I know I’ll have a headache tomorrow, as Tristan plays my body as skillfully as if we’ve done this a hundred times before.
His fingers stroke and rub and play, until he finally leans down, his warm breath against my drenched flesh… and his tongue slides over me.
“We don’t need to do this,” I gasp, my hands flexing against the duvet. “You just… need to fuck me. Then it’s legal. This is…”
“What I want,” Tristan finishes, raising his head slightly to look at me with hooded eyes. “I want you to come on my mouth, célie, before I fuck you.”
“You don’t need to…”
He lets out an irritated breath. “I do, actually,” he grinds out, lifting up just enough so that he’s leaning over me again, bracing one knee against the side of the bed.
His hand drops, flicking open his belt and drawing down his zipper, and when his hand slides into his trousers to palm his cock free, a shudder of alarm runs through me.
He’s… huge. Long and thick, his swollen tip leaking an opaque fluid, large enough that I have no idea how this is going to work.
Tristan’s lips curve in a self-satisfied smirk at my wide eyes, and he reaches down, giving himself a long, slow stroke with fingers wet from my arousal.
I see his cock visibly throb, and I swallow hard.
“See why I need you wet, célie ?” He slides down my body again, his mouth brushing against my folds. “And you are. But not as wet as I want you… and you haven’t come for me yet.”
“I’m not… I won’t…” The words flee as his tongue strokes over me again, and I have no idea how I’m going to make it through this.
I don’t know how I’m going to fight the pleasure.
His tongue, wet and hot and finding all of my most sensitive places, is exquisite.
His finger traces my entrance, then slides inside, and the momentary spark of pain that I feel at the intrusion is erased instantly by the intense pleasure of his tongue.
I’m not going to come. I’m not… I refuse to give in. To give him the satisfaction of knowing that he’s broken me already. I refuse to not fight him, even if the reward would be my own pleasure.
I fight it, pushing back the tide again and again, until Tristan lifts his head from between my legs, breathing hard as he stares up my body into my defiant eyes.
“Fine,” he growls, and his arm slides under my waist as he rises above me, turning me so that I’m flung back against the pillows as he looms over me. “You don’t want to come for me tonight, célie ? We have our whole lives. I’ll make you beg for me before it’s been a month.”
His mouth crashes down against mine, hard and demanding, possessive, and I feel his knee push mine apart, the sound of his belt clinking as he pushes his trousers down his hips. A second later, I feel the broad, blunt head of his cock sliding between my damp folds, and I jerk in surprise.
“It’s too big,” I whisper, a sudden flare of fear racing through me, and Tristan chuckles darkly, hips nudging against me, not hard enough to enter me yet, but enough to send that fear jolting through me again.
“It is,” he growls, his mouth close to mine.
“And if you’d come for me instead of being a stubborn girl, célie , it would be easier for you.
But now you’ll take your punishment. You’ll take my cock as you are right now, Simone.
Wet and hot and so fucking tight—” He groans, and his hands curl around my wrists, pulling mine up above my head.
He grasps them both in one hand, bracing the other against the headboard, and I feel him push into me, a bright pain searing through my core as his too-thick cock pierces me.
“ Fuck—” He curses aloud, his entire body shuddering as he holds himself above me, fingers pressing into my wrists.
“Fuck, you’re tight. Holy God—” His hips twitch, another shudder running down his spine as his gaze holds mine, his green eyes dark with lust. “Your pussy is fucking perfect, célie . Mine . Only my cock. My fucking—” His hips jerk forward, sinking another inch of him into me, and his jaw tightens, his hand releasing the headboard as he rocks back onto his knees, letting go of my wrists as well.
He looks down between us, his jaw tight as he takes in the sight of him stretching me, only the first inch of his cock buried inside of me. I see his throat move, swallowing hard as he rocks forward, nudging deeper as he reaches to yank the buttons of his shirt free.