Chapter 38
May
Two Weeks After The Wedding Date
I’m laughing like a child, legs wrapped around Trip’s torso as he carries me to the couch. My back sinks into the soft leather and he stands above me, eyes feral with desire as they rake down my body. He wets his lips.
My laugh dies in my throat and the effervescence in my stomach is replaced with something else entirely.
His hands press into the cushions on either side of my head and he lowers his face to mine.
The movement is agonizing, slow and deliberate like the drip of honey.
He makes eye contact the entire way, then takes my bottom lip between his teeth.
It’s a light nibble—just a taste—and then he takes the rest of my mouth with his.
My lips open for him, and my legs spread wide, making space I’m begging him to fill. He takes his time, the movements of his tongue practiced and exploring. I writhe beneath him, but he keeps a steady pace. His hands skim my rib cage and I want to set the thin fabric that separates us on fire.
More. More.
His hand traces the curve of my knee, then lifts the skirt of my dress and grips my thigh, thumbs kneading the delicate skin there. And still, the pace of his mouth stays methodical, his breathing even. I want him to feel as undone as I do.
Grabbing his wrist, I bring his hand higher up my thigh, pulling the dress with my other hand until a flash of my pink lace underwear is visible. At the same time, I suck his bottom lip into my mouth and bite down—just a little. A silent indication that I want more. I need more.
The floodgates open.
Trip cups the back of my neck, angling my mouth so he can deepen the kiss.
He’s urgent, unyielding, possessive. His other hand teases the hem of my underwear.
In one movement, he flips us so he’s sitting and I’m straddling his lap.
I hike my dress up my thighs and grind against him, gripping the back of the couch for leverage.
He tilts his head back in ecstasy, fingers pressing into the curve of my ass. “Fuck, Elz.”
Trip takes a hand and glides it down the mass of my hair, which I can only imagine has curls sticking out at all angles.
He wraps the end of it once, then twice around his wrist and gives a gentle tug.
My head tips back, exposing more of my neck.
His teeth graze their way from jaw to collarbone.
He sucks and bites at the delicate skin.
I’ll be bruised tomorrow, but I don’t give a shit.
I’d let him do this to every inch of my body.
His grip on my hair tightens and I press my hips into him, spreading my knees as wide as I can to bring us even closer. My underwear is damp, and my insides are on fire, aching for release. I grind and grind as he nips and sucks.
He’s hard, and if my nerve endings down there are at all reliable—big. The fabric of his joggers is thin, and the knowledge that we’re nearly skin-to-skin is no longer bearable.
I untie the drawstring, slip my hand inside his boxers, and wrap my fingers around the length of him. His hips buck and he bites my neck a little too hard.
“Shit, Elz.”
“Too much?”
“Not even close.”
Trip releases his grip on my hair and slides his hand under the lace of my thong, curling his fingers against me. I stroke him and lean in, tasting his lips, savoring every delicious curve and corner I’ve yearned to feel for too long.
“That’s perfect,” he says in a moment when my mouth releases his.
The feel of him in my hand, the way I can hardly contain him, is suddenly not enough.
I’ve never touched this man, and yet I need every inch of his skin against every inch of mine.
He slips a finger inside me, and I moan, angling my hips and quickening my pace, riding his hand. The promise of oblivion teases me.
His body tenses beneath me and I pull away from his mouth.
“Not so fast.” He removes his hand and slides me off his lap, hooking an arm under my knees. The strain of his erection against his joggers is a sight to behold. He stands and carries me out of the room, pants slung low on his hips, the band of his black boxers peeking through.
My heart flutters when we reach the flight of stairs. “Should you even be doing this? Aren’t you still recovering?”
Trip takes the stairs with ease. “Elz, this is nothing compared to what I have in mind.”
He makes a beeline for the bedroom, laying me with care on the green comforter.
“New comforter?” I prop myself on my elbows, swallowed by the mattress.
“Old comforter. Finally got to redecorate to my liking.”
“It matches my outfit.” I slide my knees toward my chest and my dress pools around my hips.
“I plan to change that.” Trip’s fist twists in the skirt.
I lift my hands and he pulls it over my head, leaving me in nothing but my pink lace underwear, no bra.
“Jesus Christ.” He descends on my right breast, sucking and skimming his teeth along my nipple.
The ache in me burns brighter. “I didn’t take you for a religious man.”
“Never had anything this good to worship.”
And worship he does. His thumbs roll across my nipples and they rise for him, like every other part of my body screaming Touch me, please. I claw at the hem of his shirt and he pulls it over his shoulders in one motion, pushing down the hem of his joggers so he’s in just his boxers.
Placing his hands around the backs of my knees, he pulls me to the edge of the bed and kneels before me. His pointer finger hooks into the lace at my hip and my underwear slides off with little effort.
Trip wraps them around his fist. “So wet.” He grins. “But I can do better.”
He spreads my legs before him and licks the slickness of my inner thighs, teasing, moving closer to the spot where I need him.
His mouth sets my nerve endings on fire, bringing me to the edge and then moving before I find release.
I dig my nails into his scalp, further mussing his hair.
He looks up at me from between my legs, face flushed and hair on end, like he just ran a marathon.
Trip slips a finger inside me and my hips buck.
“Something you want, Elz?” He pulls his finger all the way back and pumps it back into me, adding another.
I moan and grab his wrist, holding his hand right over the pleasure point. A few more seconds and I’ll come undone.
“Ask me, baby, and I’ll give it to you.” He moves onto the bed, and lowers himself onto a forearm over me, his other hand still between my legs. The weight of his body against mine is ecstasy.
I take his bottom lip between my teeth, lifting my hips against his cock as his hand teases me, pumping and then releasing.
“Ask nicely, Elz.” His whisper tickles my inner ear.
I cry out, muscles already twitching around his fingers. “I need you inside me, Trip. Please.”
His hand pulls away and I want to protest, but then his boxers are off and he’s leaning back on his knees, ripping open a condom wrapper.
He rolls the rubber onto himself, and I can’t look away.
Trip touching himself might be the most erotic thing I’ve ever witnessed.
I pull him down to me and claim his mouth. He smiles against my lips.
I’m so wet already, he has no trouble sliding in. Part of the way, at least. He shifts and I spread my legs farther, creating as much space as I can to accommodate all of him. It’s a painful bliss, the way he stretches me. His eyelashes lower to his cheeks and he groans.
I wriggle my hips and clench my muscles around him.
“Cruel woman.” He exhales, smiling.
I clutch his ass. “Faster.”
He chuckles. “I want to savor this.”
Trip slides against me in a steady rhythm, brow furrowed as he meets my eyes.
With every pump, I attempt to increase our pace and eventually he meets me there, then overtakes it, losing all semblance of control.
He hooks my leg over his shoulder, deepening the angle.
My nails dig into his thighs like I’m holding on for dear life.
I don’t know if it’s possible to black out from pleasure, but I think I might be close.
“So…fucking…good.” He slides out all the way to the tip and thrusts back in.
Sparks fly in front of my eyes. “I can’t hang on much longer.”
“I told you I’d wait for you.” His chest rises and falls.
We crash together.
Afterward, I lie there, the evening light creeping in through the windows.
I’m exhausted and wrecked, but I cling to consciousness, wanting to trace my hands along his tattoos one more time, just to know he’s there.
Eventually, sleep wins out and my eyelids close.
A dark fog overtakes my brain, but not before Trip leans in and whispers in my ear.
“I want this forever with you, Elz.”