27
Tristan
The first thing I see when I open my eyes is her face, the face of an angel, and I think maybe I moved on to the afterlife and took her with me by accident. Maybe heaven is real, and this is it.
“Tristan?” Demi asks. Her eyes are big and full of worry, gleaming in the low light.
If this is heaven, why does she look so concerned?
If this is heaven, why does my body ache?
My body.
I’m lying on the floor, and the most beautiful woman in the world is kneeling next to me, leaning down with the ends of her hair touching my shoulder.
Demi has one hand on my chest and the other cradling my face, and I can feel them.
I can feel the weight of her palm, the heat of her skin. Her hands are ?on ?me.
“Demi, am I—” I can’t say the word. I can’t because what if I’m wrong? What if I’m imagining the gentle caress of her fingers along my jaw?
“You’re alive,” she says.
“You did it,” I say with an unsteady voice. I feel it when I speak, the grind of my vocal cords, the way the sound rumbles in my throat. Beneath that, I feel the air that moves inside me and inflates my lungs. I feel the steady pounding of my heart behind my ribs.
I cover Demi’s hand with mine and press it harder against my chest. Goddamn, her skin is so soft .
“Can you feel that?” I ask. I want to know that she can feel my heart beating, that it’s not the phantom sensation I’ve felt for so many years.
Her eyes fill up with an emotion I can’t name, and one single tear falls free of her long eyelashes, making a slow crawl down her cheek. She nods. “We did it.”
When I reach for her, I can feel the way my muscles move and contract.
It’s mystifying, this new corporeal life.
Everything feels alien and heightened. I cup Demi’s face in my palm and release a satisfied sigh when she leans into my touch.
My thumb swipes at the tear on her cheek, absorbs it into my skin.
I love the way her face fits in my hand, how it’s big enough to cradle her chin while my fingertips slide into her hair.
Christ, she is so soft and warm. Everything about her.
I am alive. I am in my body again for the first time in half a century, and Demi is here, and she is touching me, and I am touching her. And this body of mine, it responds .
With more force than necessary, I reach up with my other hand, curve it around the back of Demi’s neck, and pull her closer. Her breath is mint-sweet as she gasps mere inches from my lips.
“Can I kiss you?” I ask.
There’s a charge between us, and my question hangs heavy in the air.
She’s so close I can feel the heat radiating from her, the tickle of her hair.
My forearm, I notice, is resting on her chest, and I can feel the rapid rise and fall of her breasts in an intoxicating rhythm.
I want my hands on them, I want my hands on all of her.
The wanting I felt for her as a ghost is now something else entirely, something animal and raw and ready to pounce. It’s as if feeling her for the first time has activated everything within me that was lost or dormant for decades. I want. I need. I ?must have .
I’m waiting for what feels like forever, about to ask again in case I didn’t say the words out loud at first, and then she finally says:
“Yes.”
“Oh, thank god.” My voice is just shy of a growl, and everything inside me seizes with anticipation.
The moment her mouth touches mine, a frenzy takes over. My chest fills with a frothing, wild exultation, sending my newly awakened heart pounding. Her kiss is everything . Everything I wished for, everything I dreamed of, all the agony of my longing made real—finally.
Demi’s lips are soft and plump, and she tastes so good I could put my tongue to her and nothing else for eternity and still be perfectly satiated.
I graze my teeth along her full, lower lip just to see if it feels as pillowy as it looks (it does), and she moans.
Moans ?for me. The sound wrecks any hope I had for seeming cool about this.
I mutter, “Holy shit,” and suck that pretty lip into my mouth, pulling with my teeth, brushing with my eager tongue.
“Tristan,” she breathes.
“On me, I need you on me.” I circle her waist with my arm and pull her on top of me. She makes a soft “ oof ” as her body collides with mine. I can tell she’s not putting her full weight on me, but I need it, I need to feel her. ?“All the way, Demi. I need all of you.”
She shifts, and I look up just in time to see the way she moves to straddle my hips. Her shirt creeps up her thighs, and I’m rewarded with a shadowy glimpse between her legs. How am I so fortunate? How am I so goddamn lucky?
“ Fuck , Demi.”
I barely recognize myself as I fist the collar of her t-shirt and yank her down on me.
Finally, finally, I feel the full weight of her perfect body on mine, and it is glorious.
My mouth captures hers again, my hands dig into her hair.
I’ve thought about how her hair might feel at least a thousand times, and it’s just as silky as I imagined, but better.
Everything about her, somehow, is better than my wildest dreams. I comb my hands through it, wrap my fingers around it.
When I give her hair a little tug, Demi makes a low, pleased noise and rolls her hips into mine.
It’s then that I realize how fucking hard I am for her.
When I feel her drag her sweet pussy up the ridge of my cock through our clothes, I release a hiss between clenched teeth, and my mind goes completely blank. There’s nothing left of me besides the memory of how long I’ve wanted this woman, and the primal instincts of my body returning to me.
Using my grip in her hair to tilt her head, I bury my face in the column of her throat, and I’m lost in the scent of her.
My mouth finds her satin, delicate skin and trails sucking kisses up the length of her neck.
I feel the way she shivers against me, so I do it again.
One greedy hand travels down her back until I reach that stunning little arch right above her ass.
I press down there, crushing us together, and I tilt my hips up until I know she can feel what she’s done to me.
She gasps, and I want to bottle the sound.
“Oh, god, Tristan. ”
“What, pretty girl?”
“You feel…”
I move my hips again, pressing up and grinding against her as I find a tender little spot just under her ear that, when I suck on it, makes her whimper.
Her sounds make me insane. I can’t help the way my hands wander down and grip her ass.
I thrust again, feeling the heat of her core through our clothes.
“...so good,” she groans.
Encouraged, I flip us over and press her into the floor.
I may not know my own strength right now, because I think I knock the wind out of her with the force of throwing her down.
She looks a little dazed when she blinks up at me, but then she grins, and I lunge for her mouth.
I want to kiss her forever. Licking the seam of her lips, I beg silently for her to let me in, then she opens for me, and our tongues dance, and every feeling I’ve had for Demi up until this moment all collide and morph into something new. Something bigger.
My body is alight with want. I feel sweat gathering at my temples, I feel pressure at the base of my spine. There’s this maddening restlessness between my hips, like I need to thrust, need to rut, need to be inside. My cock strains against the zipper of my pants, aching, throbbing.
I am a needful thing; I barely even feel human right now.
Beneath me, Demi wraps her legs around my waist, drawing us closer. I’m a goner.
“Oh, fuck,” I curse into her mouth.
Then, she reaches down between us and squeezes my cock in her hand.
“You’re so hard,” she says .
“Jesus Christ, Demi.”
I feel a tug, then hear my belt buckle come undone, and I really cannot believe this is happening.
Propping myself up on my arm, I look down at her, as if to convince myself this is all real.
Her cheeks are flushed, her lips are kiss-swollen, and the collar of her shirt is shapeless now, torn from the way I twisted it in my hand to kiss her.
Her hair is an unkempt halo around her head.
I like her shallow breaths, the way her tongue darts out to wet her lips as she looks up at me.
In her eyes, I see the same need that’s ricocheting between my bones, setting my blood ablaze. And then her warm hand wraps around my bare cock, and I’m no longer capable of coherent thought.
Demi gives me one firm, slow pump, and a noise comes out of me that I’ve never heard before—something between a whimper and a roar.
I’d be embarrassed about it, but her touch is so good, and the look on her face tells me that she liked the way I made noise for her.
Besides, I can’t be bothered with feeling embarrassed.
Not when the object of all my desire has my cock in her hand and is looking up at me like she wants nothing more than to eat me alive.
“ Goddamn , Tristan Beaumont. Look at you,” she purrs, her gaze glued to the sight of her hand stroking me, her fingers unable to touch around the thickness of it.
I rake my own gaze down her body, and I want to tear that fucking t-shirt off of her, but she moves her hips, and I feel a hot, wet mess against the head of my cock as she drags the front of her panties across it.
“Are you wet for me?” I manage to choke out. She squeezes me again, and my eyes roll into the back of my head .
“So wet.”
“Already?”
“I’ve been waiting weeks ? ?for this.”
“I feel like I’ve been waiting for you for decades,” I say in a rush of trembling breath.
“I don’t want to wait any more,” she replies.
So I roll my hips and press my cock against her pussy.
We both moan at the contact. The only thing between us is a scrap of fabric.
Thin cotton made thinner by this beautiful woman’s arousal.
It would be so easy to slip inside. So easy to hook those panties with one finger and slide my greedy cock into her cunt. To make her mine.
When I thrust again, Demi’s eyelids flutter, and she locks her ankles at my lower back. I lose the ability to function, dropping to my elbows and burying my face in her neck, dragging my teeth across her collarbones, chasing her scent like a fucking dog.
My hips move on instinct, grinding and pumping against her with no finesse or rhythm, just pure need. I’m lost. I’m feral.
“Fuck me, Tristan,” she gasps, and it nearly makes me come on the spot.
I groan against her throat, bow my back a little so I can sink lower and rub my face against her tits, burrowing and nuzzling there like some kind of animal. God, they’re so fucking full and soft, and I want to mark them with my teeth.
Demi is matching my pace now, grinding her hips, seeking my friction, seeking release.
Some part of my rational brain clicks back on. I’m close. So close. A strong breeze could make me come at this point .
“Slow, slow,” I urge her, my face still nuzzling her perfect breasts. I can’t help it, I can’t stop.
I don’t think she hears me. Or if she does, she just doesn’t care. She continues to rock against me. Push ?against me.
And I don’t care either. I want to fuck her. I want to be inside of her.
But I don’t know if the spell she’s done is permanent. I don’t know if it’s a fluke. I don’t know how much time we have.
“Slow, baby. Slow down, or I’m gonna come,” I rasp.
If this is my only chance with her, I can’t let it be over this fast. If the magic she wove to bring me back to life is tenuous and this gift is taken from me, I don’t want to meet a second death, not having touched Demi in all the ways I’ve been dreaming about.
But my cock is so close to where it wants to be. I can feel the heat of her, I can feel the inviting dip of her entrance through her soaked panties.
“ Fuck ,” I seethe.
Somehow, by some malcontent miracle, I manage enough willpower to shift my body and create space between us until our hips are no longer in lock-step and my cock is no longer driving toward her decadent heat.
I’m panting and sweating as if I’ve just run ten miles uphill.
“Don’t stop,” Demi groans, all but begging.
It takes everything in me not to give her what she’s asking for, every atom of self-control and restraint I’ve ever possessed. It’s the only reason I don’t immediately pounce on her and fuck her brainless .
Shaking, I lean down and press my forehead to hers.
“I’ve got you, Demi. I just want this to last. Let me make you feel good.”