39
Demi
No one on earth loves the way Tristan Beaumont loves.
He touches me with greedy desperation. In my ear, his breath comes as trembling rasps, and he’s not even inside me yet.
The moment I tell him to make me feel alive, both of his big hands palm my tits.
His thumbs on my nipples alternate between frantic plucks and these barely-there brushes that send static through my skull.
“I’m so fucking hard for you,” he whispers, his voice broken with need.
To make his point clear, he pushes his hips forward so I can feel exactly what I’m doing to him. My fist clenches around a handful of his hair, and he groans. Tristan kisses me, and my whole body turns on.
“I need to taste you,” he says into my mouth, and then he’s moving, turning me on my back and trailing kisses down my body, taking long and lingering sips of my skin like he’s savoring me.
He crawls down the length of me before spreading my thighs with his broad shoulders and nuzzling his face between them.
I’m still wearing panties,m and I feel him inhale me through them, a great deep breath and then a rumbling, hungry ?noise.
He makes quick work of taking my panties off, then sits up on his knees and looks down at me .
Leaning down, he kisses my eager mouth while his hands sink into my hair. His kiss is somehow slow and frantic at the same time. When he pulls away, he shows me the hair tie he just took from my hair with a wicked grin, then ties back his own hair into a low bun.
I laugh, and my legs start to close. Tristan’s expression goes dark, and he slowly shakes his head, one hand on each of my inner thighs to push them open again.
Fuck, look at him.
The moonlight casts him in a glow as he kneels between my legs. His chest is heaving, muscles in his stomach coiling, cock absolutely straining at the fabric of his boxer briefs. With his hair pulled back, I can see every inch of that sharp jaw. He licks his lips.
“You keep those legs spread for me, pretty girl,” he says, then sinks down and sets his mouth to me. After the first savoring lick, Tristan moans, “I want this pussy. I want this fucking pussy.”
Jesus, take the wheel.
I’m already getting close just from his words and the way he says them alone. He makes demands, but it feels like begging, and it lights me the fuck up. I can feel his want and need, his obsession, and I want to bottle up every ounce of it.
He traps my clit between his lips and sucks, and my hips involuntarily buck at the onslaught of pleasure.
“Yes. Grind on my tongue,” he hisses.
I comb my fingers into his hair and pull his face deeper into my cunt. He moans his enthusiastic approval. I look down the line of my body, and if the sight of him buried in my pussy wasn’t enough to flood me, watching his hips thrust into the mattress certainly does .
That he can’t control or contain himself makes me half-feral, and I move against his tongue, seeking more friction, more pressure, more of him.
“Fuck my mouth, Demi. Come on, take what you need,” he demands.
I grind against his face, unable to tear my gaze away from his head between my legs and the way he’s slowly fucking the mattress as he eats me like a meal. When I lift my hips, the new angle sends me into orbit. It’s exactly right.
“Right there,” I gasp.
“Come on my face, baby. Make a mess of me,” he begs, and then, “ Please. ?I need it.”
Holy shit, I’m there. The orgasm moves through me like a crescendo of music. A benediction. Something loud and holy. I cry out for Tristan as my pleasure peaks, and he draws the rest out of me until there’s nothing left but the trembling aftershocks.
He covers my body with his and kisses me. I taste myself in his mouth, all over his beard. Like I’ve marked him as mine.
Still dazed, I barely notice when he flips us. He’s underneath me, kissing me, and shimmying his boxer briefs down his legs. Between our bodies, I feel him give his cock one firm stroke. It’s leaking precum on my stomach; he’s so fucking hard for me.
“I need you to sit on this cock,” he says breathlessly. “I need to be inside you, or I’m going to lose my goddamn mind.”
Limbs loose from the orgasm he delivered to me, I straddle him. He fists his cock and positions it at my entrance, then looks up at me above him, and we lock eyes. There’s so much for me in Tristan’s gaze: need, want, worship, and a love that burns hot and true.
I sink down on him just an inch, just enough to give the head of his cock a hint of my heat. His eyes roll, and his fingers dig into my hips so hard that I hope they leave bruises shaped like him.
“Oh, fuck. Please. More. I need more,” he whimpers.
His crazed desperation is like a drug. Knowing I can make his brain short-circuit like this is a heady thing. I’ve never felt so sexy, so powerful.
I lower myself an inch more, and he growls through clenched teeth. With one hand, he fists the front of my tank top, yanking it down to free my breasts and to pull me closer to him.
“I said fucking sit on it,” he commands in a low voice, and suddenly all that power I reveled in a moment ago is gone. I’m helpless for him. His nose brushes mine, his eyes burn into me. Tristan’s other hand, still on my hip, grips and pulls me down just as his hips thrust up.
We sigh into each other’s open mouths as his cock pushes all the way inside me. Oh, I feel impossibly full; my walls stretch to adapt to his size. Tristan kisses me again, a rumble of his appreciation vibrating around my tongue.
Sitting up, I press my hands to Tristan’s clenching stomach and start to slowly roll my hips, pulling him deeper.
He watches me enraptured, raking his gaze down my body in a slow pursuit, drinking every curve of me in like he’s memorizing them.
Finally, his attention rests on the place where we are joined, and he gasps at the sight, can’t tear his eyes away .
“Look at the way you take me,” he muses in rhapsody. “Like you were made for me.”
I move faster, bouncing on his big cock, sliding up and down, somehow taking him deeper with each thrust. Angling my body to rub my clit against his pelvis, my head falls back in pleasure as I find the perfect friction.
“That’s it,” Tristan says. He runs his palm in a line up the center of me, from my stomach, over my chest, until his hand gently grasps my throat. “Fuck me, Demi.”
All my nerve endings are alive, on fire. I release a hoarse moan as I start to ride him faster, harder, using him to chase my pleasure.
“Fuck me, baby,” he says again, but this time it’s less of a command and more of a plea. His voice breaks as he lets out a series of incoherent curses. All I know is that he’s begging for me like I’m his only salvation.
It unleashes something in me. Some primal, aggressive thing, yes— but also a surge of love so strong I can’t contain it. So I fuck him and start chanting his name like a prayer. It’s the only thing I’m capable of now; I’m nothing but movement and sacrament.
Tristan sits up and wraps his arms around me, crushing my body to his. His hands knead my flesh, anywhere he can find some soft place to grab. He moves his hips, pumping up into me just as I grind on him.
“God, I love you,” he pants into my ear. Every one of his exhales is a trembling mess. Every inhale is a gasp. The noise of his desperation is a soundtrack I want on repeat for eternity .
Another orgasm threatens to erupt, and the needful energy between us does nothing to quell the coming storm.
“I’m close,” I breathe, clutching a handful of his hair.
“Christ. Me too.” His tongue and teeth are on my throat, dragging from one side to the other like he needs to taste it all.
“You feel so good,” I moan.
“I can feel how close you are. Let go for me.” He pushes a hand between us and presses his thumb to my clit, using the motion of our hips to give me exactly what I need.
Stars burst in the corners of my eyesight as he drags me ever closer to oblivion.
“Tristan,” I beg. “I want to watch you come.”
He groans then grips my jaw in his hand, and I grip his. I watch his face. The way his eyebrows pinch together, the love in his eyes, the clench of his jaw. The way he watches me .
“Oh fuck,” he whimpers. “I’m coming.”
And so am I. The twist in his features and the noises from his mouth completely do me in.
I’m a goner. Our eyes lock as we both descend into the madness of orgasm.
I’ve never felt so close to another person.
I’ve never come like this before, like it’s happening to my entire body, from the top of my head to the tips of my toes.
We stay like this, wrapped up in each other, breathing as one, for a long time. I know we’re thinking the same thing, but we’re both too afraid to say it out loud. That once we untangle from one another, it’s back to reality .
And the reality is that we’re both terrified that this time together will be our last.