Forbidden Bride

He smiles softly. “You’re right.”

“So forget about the past, even if it’s just for tonight,” I say, and then I smile. “And have your way with me.”

“I think I already had my way with you pretty thoroughly,” he says.

“Oh, do you?” I say as I run my hands through his hair. “Because last time I checked you fucked my throat, but I’m not done until I’ve had you all the way inside me.” I whisper that last in his ear, and I feel him growing hard between my legs. “Had enough of a break?”

“More than enough,” he says roughly, mouth crashing down on mine again. “You need to be naked.”

There are squirming and roaming hands, and it’s a struggle since neither of us want to stop touching each other, but he gets the bodysuit off me and tosses it away. I welcome the feeling of his skin on mine. He lifts my legs, helping me to bend my knees so they rest on either side of his torso.

Fitting himself against me, he slides in with a groan, letting his weight back down onto me. I’m pinned perfectly, spread open and filled and it feels luxurious and perfect.

This time it isn’t fucking. It’s not desperate and it’s not breaking the barrier of getting physical with each other and it’s not laced with the need to race toward an orgasm. This is what it means when people say that they make love. We love each other, and we move together. Slow. Rolling. Breath synced and eyes locked.

This pleasure is deeper, rising from nothing and consuming everything. We don’t stop moving together, every motion deliberate and synchronized until we come apart into one another. Tristan steals my breath and I steal his right back. I cling to his arms, shaking with pleasure while his cock jerks, pouring his heat into me.

We come back down together, and there are no words left to say other than whispers of ‘I love you.’ He tucks me against his chest again and wraps us up in the blanket. And for the first time in my life, I fall asleep with Tristan Swallows. There’s a settled peace in my chest, because I know that it won’t be the last time.

9

Tristan

I rise to consciousness slowly, and then all at once as I realize that there’s a soft, feminine body draped across mine. Nicola’s head lays in the center of my chest, hair falling over her face, and the rest of her sprawled inelegantly on both me and the bed. She’s never looked more beautiful, and the fact that I’m waking up with her feels so right that I can barely breathe.

It’s morning, so I’m already hard, and I want her again. I’ll always want her, and when we finally live together, if she looks like this every morning, I’m going to make early-morning fucking a definite priority.

I shift her weight slowly, bringing her on top of me so I can tip my cock into her. She stirs, moaning as I enter her, and that sound takes me from mostly hard to hard as fucking steel. “Good morning,” she moans. “Hell of a way to wake up.”

“An orgasm before breakfast is always the best policy, I think.”

Holding her hips still, I thrust into her hard and fast. Then I pull her against me as I move, grinding her clit against me. She gasps, suddenly more awake. “What are you doing to me?” It’s a rhetorical question accompanied by the sudden digging of her nails into my skin. I’ll gladly bear the marks if she keeps making sounds like that.

“It’s Saturday morning and I want to make you scream.”

“Not far off,” she says, her voice going high pitched.

I move faster. Harder. Then slower and teasing. I don’t want her to come yet. I want her to be out of her mind with the need to come and then deny her. Over and over until she begs. But she’s catching on after the second time I take her to the edge and pull her back. “Fuck, Tristan.”

Lifting, I move her up to my mouth and sit her pussy squarely over my mouth. The squeak she lets out as I move her is fucking adorable, as is the way it turns into an erotic stream of begging. Running my tongue along her slit, I’m the one who’s moaning now. She tastes amazing.

I swirl my tongue over her clit and suck it as forcefully as I can. I feel her whole body spasm above me, and she grabs the headboard trying to stay upright. “Scream for me, baby,” I say, voice muffled by her pussy.

Her voice is still raw from last night, and the throaty way she’s yelling is pure sex. I know what she likes now. I know the way to flick my tongue along the underside of her clit with steady precision to get her off. And I know how to do that and get her close and then lick my way down to her pussy and fuck her with my tongue to drive her wild.