Chapter 33 #2
And behind him, holy fuck, behind him, I could see everything in the mirror, see him pull back out then disappear inside me again. Slowly, thoroughly fucking me. My breasts bouncing, his large hands gripping my hips as he plunged in and out of me, over and over again.
Leaning forward, he kissed my neck, my jaw, my shoulder, telling me how beautiful I was with every thrust.
"You were made for this," he groaned. "For me. This pussy, this body... I'm never letting you go."
Oh, God. His words. His cock. His hands on me like he truly meant what he said.
While my eyes darted between his focused face and what I could see in the mirror, he fucked me hard, deep, filthy, everything I'd ever wanted, everything I'd dreamed about since the last time.
He suddenly pulled out, and did that manhandling thing I loved, changing our position, sitting down on the couch and pulling me onto his lap so I was straddling him.
"I want to suck these gorgeous tits while you ride me, baby."
Oh. Wow. Fuck.
Hands digging into my hips, he plunged upwards at the same time I let gravity pull me down, impaling myself on his cock, this angle, this position like heaven.
"Show me how you want it," he demanded. "Use me. Use my cock."
With Tristan, for the first time in my life, I amazingly felt free to explore, to experiment, and truly see what I liked.
I moved up and down, my breasts literally bouncing in his face, our bodies slapping together, my thighs trembling, his own hips thrusting up to meet me.
It was exhilarating. And exhausting.
So I tried something else. I leaned forward a bit and started grinding against him, against his hardness. And oh, good lord, that was it.
Every swivel of my hips ground my clit against Tristan's body, my head falling back at the pleasure.
"That's it, baby," he said, gripping my waist and slapping my ass.
Holy shit. Holy shit.
And then his lips were around my nipple, sucking, flicking me with his tongue, then biting, making me gasp.
This orgasm was going to crush me.
I ground my hips and ground again, the build-up exquisite, little tremors spiraling throughout my core. And then it hit me like a tidal wave, blood rushing past my ears, my pussy clenching again and again on his cock as I breathed out his name.
"Tristan... Oh, God... Tristan..." I moaned.
My climax seemed to push him over the edge because he thrust up twice more inside me before he pulled me down hard onto his cock, exploding deep inside me, grunting loudly in my ear, the sound incredible, warming my soul.
"Fuck, Astrid. Fuck."
His raspy breaths sounded in the room while he filled me up with his cum, hot and thick, holding me close as we both rode it out together, my pussy still clenching around him, pulling every drop from him.
Panting into my neck, he wrapped his arms around me even tighter, holding me there so long, our bodies warm and sweat-slicked, his cock twitching with the last slow pulses of his orgasm.
His lips brushed my shoulder. "You're everything to me, Astrid. Everything. You. This baby. All of it. You're mine."
Tears pricked my eyes, the emotion of the moment overwhelming. Somehow, I managed to hold it in as I shifted slightly, making Tristan hiss.
"Fuck, baby," he groaned. "You're so full of me. So full of my cum. I've never gone bare before. I didn't know it could be like this."
"I didn't either."
Slowly, he lifted me off him, pulling out, his cum spilling out, so much of it, no wonder I was currently pregnant.
"Jesus," he said, his eyes glued to my dripping pussy as he laid me back on the couch. "You're even more beautiful like this."
I was? Glancing in the mirror, all I could see was my flushed skin, my breasts heavy, marked all over by his hands and mouth and stubble. "You actually like this?"
"I fucking love it," he growled, dropping to his knees again and spreading my legs, staring at my pussy like it was the most stunning thing he'd ever seen.
"I want to taste you again," he said, voice raw. "Taste us."
Before I could respond, he leaned in and licked me from my opening to my clit, slow and filthy, making me gasp with shock and how much he turned me on.
He glanced up at me, a question on his face. "Please tell me you like that."
I nodded helplessly. God, yes, I liked it. Even if I was trembling.
"Good," he said. "Because I'm not done with you."
Oh, lord.
He licked me until I was shaking all over again, devouring me like he was a starving man, like he couldn't get enough of me, my legs on his shoulders, beyond sensitive but lapping up everything Tristan was doing to me.
"Tristan," I panted. "I don't know if I can—"
"Yes, you can, baby," he growled. "You can..."
And then he sucked my clit into his mouth again, making me arch against the couch, breasts heaving, moaning with every sensation, his head between my thighs like he worshipped me.
Every groan from his mouth, every growl, every filthy word was worship.
Until I came. Again. And this time even harder somehow. My body locking up, thighs clamping around his head as he groaned into it, his tongue moving faster as I soaked his mouth all over again.
When the last quiver subsided, he stood up quickly, lifting me and carrying me over to the counter directly in front of the mirror. He pressed me forward, bending me over, standing behind me and looking me over.
I couldn't take my eyes off him, the way he was studying me, the way his cock was already hard again, rubbing against my ass cheeks.
His eyes were dark and full of lust, his hunger for me evident, even to me.
"I can't get enough of you, Astrid," he said, our gazes meeting in the reflection. "I need more. I want to fill you up again."
Too far gone to speak, all I could do was moan, part my legs and lift my hips, my body more than ready for him again.
"Good girl," he breathed out.
He slid back into me in one deep thrust, no hesitation, no buildup, our bodies still slick from everything we'd already done.
"Fuck," he groaned. "How are you even tighter?"
Hands on my hips, he moved our bodies so I had a sideways view of him pumping in and out of me with his huge cock.
"Look at us, baby. Look how well your pussy swallows my cock."
He was right. It was so damn sexy. But also perfect.
This time, he pounded into me, and I let my head fall forward, pushing back into him, chasing it, wanting more and more and more.
He wasn't having it though. Grabbing my hair gently, he made me look up, made me watch, his eyes on my face, then the reflection of my breasts in the mirror.
They were swinging beneath me with every slap of his hips against my ass, his hands going to my waist, big and possessive, guiding me onto him over and over again.
He reached under me and grabbed a breast, squeezing it hard, tweaking my nipple, making me gasp with primal need. Then he moved to the other, massaging, kneading.
"I could fuck you like this forever," he said, voice hoarse. "So full. So soft. So damn perfect."
"Come in me again," I begged. "I want to feel it. All of it."
The look in his eyes. Oh, my God.
Reaching around again, with one hand, he rubbed at my clit, urgent, pulling me tight against him with the other, slamming into me—hard, fast, relentless.
The sounds we made together were obscene, raw and filthy, my impending orgasm building inside me, making my knees nearly buckle.
But Tristan had me. I knew he'd never let me fall, his strength something I could count on completely.
He stiffened behind me. "I'm going to come again, baby. And fill you so deep."
"Oh, God," I cried out, his words, his finger on my clit, his cock pummeling me, all pushing me over the edge.
We came at the same time. One more thrust and then his roar in my ear, my channel pulsing as he spilled into me, his cock jerking deep inside me, his cum pouring into me.
I could feel it all, the heat, the mess, the final spurts as my pussy relentlessly pulled everything he had from him. Turning my head gently, he managed to kiss me, thoroughly, passionately, so sweetly, I was on the verge of collapse.
As if he knew, he slowly pulled out of me, cum dribbling out as he once again swept me up into his arms, carrying me to the couch and softly depositing me against the cushions.
"I'm so sorry if I was too rough with you, too much for you," he said, his tone full of remorse.
I sat up. "No. No, you weren't. I loved every last second of that."
His smile lit up the room. "Thank fuck."
Collapsing next to me, he pulled me into his arms, both of us still breathing hard.
We didn't speak. Just breathed. Quiet. Tangling our limbs together, his hand slowly running up and down my side, shoulder to hip, then detouring to my stomach.
"So you're okay?" he asked.
I nodded. "More than okay."
Turning my head to face him, he pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead, then my nose, and lastly my cheek.
"I know you're not there yet," he said, toying with a strand of my hair, "and I don't expect or even want you to say it back until you have time to think about it. But I want you to know that I love you. I love you so much it scares the shit out of me."
My heart stuttered at his words. Because I already knew that I loved him too. I just hadn't wanted to admit it before because I wasn't sure, wasn't one-hundred percent sure that he'd been innocent.
But now I knew. I knew for certain that Tristan Hawthorne was a completely different man than I'd thought, one that I could trust with my whole heart. So I didn't care what he'd just said about not saying it back. I wanted to say it anyway.
"I love you too."