Looking up, I saw that he was kneeling on the bed, legs spread wide and in a perfect ninety degree angle. I couldn't think of anything as he pulled me to him, pressing my chest against his in a meeting of taut and soft. Tristan kissed me, slanting his mouth against mine, while that magical tongue now delved deep into me searching for something. I felt him loosen his grip and slide his hands down to cup the back of my thighs, and then I was up, hovering over the tip of cock and balancing precariously in his grip while he sat back onto his calves.
Slowly, he lowered me onto him, until I stretched around his length and girth so he was fully sheathed in me. We both groaned, moaned, and I was pretty sure I whimpered out some kind of garbage. Wrapping my legs around his waist, I couldn't help but take in the feeling of him deep in me, his chest pressed against mine, his hands strategically placed where my ass and thighs met, and his face nuzzling my own. "I love you," he said in his rich, velvet voice.
"I love you too," I said in a tone that was anything but even and calm.
I cherished the silence as he bucked his hips up and into me, holding me in his hands and using his strength to move my heat over his. There was something about this, something that was just as good if not better than the only other time he'd been in me that sang through my veins, that didn't let me think about how long this was going to last, or what I was going to do the next day, or even my own fucking name. All I was then was this. His.
Up and down, he thrust and stroked that thick, long cock in me. I could feel every fucking inch of him. With each of my moans, he returned it, whispering things under his breath.
"The best," he bucked.
"So wet," he murmured, sucking on my neck.
"Perfect," his voice strained out.
It was slow, and perfect when he started grinding his hips into me, rubbing me just the right way with the blunt tip of his cock and the rub of his skin on my wet and charged flesh. I came, moaning and crying against his neck, my climax washing over me and him so tightly and intense that he grunted the entire time. He was covered in sweat, shaking in exhaustion from holding me up for so long.
Tristan wrapped an arm around the middle of my back and shifted his way closer to his massive headboard, still buried in me, laying me down so close to it that my hair brushed the wood. His hands were gone, gripping the top of the headboard with his immaculate upper body stretched above me. The slow strokes turned hard and fast, flicking into me with a roll so perfected that it almost made me think about things that I shouldn't. I couldn't help but look at him while he pushed in and out of me. His green eyes were closed briefly, and then suddenly he spent half the time looking me right in the eye, and the other half at the slippery, wet place where we were joined.
"So good," I cried out, placing one hand between my skull and the headboard when he started rocking me into it. I grabbed his ass with my other hand, like I was trying to urge him into me deeper.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Tristan grunted. He let go of the headboard before lowering his body over mine and pressed his forehead against my own while he thrust faster. His hot breath washed over me as his strokes turned frantic, and then, he tensed and screamed, burying in me to the hilt one last time with trembling muscles.
It took us forever to stop gasping for air with his heavy body draped over mine. I could feel him still in me, throbbing gently.
"That was so fucking good," my mouth heaved out.
He nodded against my shoulder, "That doesn't even begin to cover it."
Later, once we'd both caught our breath, he reached over to his nightstand and opened the drawer to pull out a slim, long box. Rolling us onto our sides, he handed it to me. "I didn't make you a cupcake, but I hope you like it."
Pulling the lid off of the plain, white box, a necklace with a small pendant lay nestled on the velvet inside. It was a crescent moon made out of a row of opals and another row of what looked like small diamonds with a single opal crafted between the curves of the moon. A thin, silver watchchain was slipped through the pendant, and I couldn't help but bite my lip and open my mouth to tell him that it was too much.
"Before you tell me I shouldn't have, I didn't buy it, okay? It was my grandma's and it's really old. I saw it a while ago when I was helping my mom sort through her belongings and it reminded me of you, goldie." His voice lowered before he kissed my collarbone. "You're like my moon. Pretty pointless according to other people, but without you, the world is pretty much over. I wouldn't have any stability, there wouldn't be any cool things like tides; if you broke into a million pieces you'd kill everything on the planet," he tried to say it with a straight face but he couldn't.
Snorting, I sucked in a harsh breath, looking at my gift. I wanted to cry and he knew it because he kissed my nose and each of my eyebrows tenderly. "I love it, Mag. Thank you so much."
"You're welcome."
I didn't want to ruin the moment but this felt larger than anything. He'd given me something of his family's and even though it was proof of a love greater than I could understand, the tiny nugget of curiosity that had always nibbled away at me needed to be answered. "Tristan? Can I ask you something?" He groaned something out that sounded like a bear's growl. "Why did you start talking to me?"
He was quiet, only breathing loudly through his nose. "At the convention?"
"Yeah."
"I don't know," he said in a low voice. A kiss planted itself on the crook of my neck. "You were digging in your butt, and then you were so goof— I don't know. You made me laugh." He was quiet, but I could sense that he was still deliberating with an answer. "I guess I wanted to understand this pretty girl who could make me laugh."
I wormed a hand through his sweat soaked hair, raking my fingers over his scalp. "I'm glad you think I'm funny."
"Kat," he murmured against my ear, taking the box from my hands and placing it on the bed behind him. Tristan moved his hips and hardening cock in me, slowly. "I'll never get tired of laughing at you."
Chapter 59
"I'm gonna cry."
"Be quiet."
Hiccup. "I'm not kidding. I'm gonna cry."
"Josh, shut up."
"This is a big day," his voice trembled, eyeing Nikki as she made her way down the aisle.
"For Nicole," I whispered into his ear.
"For all of us," he hissed back.
I couldn't disagree with him there.
I'd spent the night with my three best friends, leaving Tristan alone in the room we'd agreed to share during our stay. Since Nikki had opted not to have a bachelorette party, we'd deemed the night our own to say our goodbyes to the single life of Nicole Jonasson, She-Who-Hath-Slept-With-Gay-and-Straight-Men-Alike. Zoey had claimed the night before when we huddled in her room that she felt like she was getting married, too. I was nervous and excited, and Josh was just an emotional wreck. Even though it was always Nikki who took care of us emotionally and physically, I likened the feeling to having my own child getting married and starting her own life. I knew it was part of growing up and all but it was still bittersweet.
It seemed like the last two weeks leading up to Nikki and Calum's wedding had come in a flash. It was my birthday, and then in no time, we were flying out of Miami to Vegas for the wedding. Now, we were standing in a garden while our resident badass and her dimpled, donkey-sized love waited to exchange rings and promise each other forever.
When I'd first found out that they'd decided to get married in a garden in Las Vegas, I'd laughed. If they wanted to get married in a garden, I could've hooked them up with Tristan's pretty stellar backyard. Later on, he had explained to me that Calum had been pleading his case to have the ceremony done by an Elvis impersonator or on the Treasure Island ship. Nikki wanted to do it in Las Vegas just because. So, they compromised on a garden not too far from the Strip after extensive debating. Mag and I laughed and agreed we'd totally do either the Elvis impersonator or the ship before the garden wedding, but to each his own.
Zoey was the first one to burst into tears
during the ceremony; she'd dropped her bouquet of flowers on the floor and covered her face with her hands. She murmured something that sounded strangely like, "So beautiful," but with Zoey you could never know. She could have been referring to Calum's sister sitting in the front row.
Josh was next, sobbing through the second half and earning a middle finger from Nikki in the covert way of an eyebrow scratch.
I was the only one who burst into tears. Looking at my closest friend and seeing the elation on her face, and then catching the same emotion reflected in her soon-to-be husband's eyes made me so happy. It wasn't until the very end when they were exchanging rings that one fat teardrop escaped, leading a short and suicidal life halfway down my cheek before I caught it. Looking up then, I saw Tristan's green eyes on me, a small smile crossing his face.
He was standing directly to the right of Calum since he was the best man, but each time I'd look up to see what he was doing I found him staring in my direction. Over the course of the last three days, we'd only seen each other on the flight since we had seats next to each other. In the days prior to that, I saw him every other day. Half of our time together was spent naked; which was absolutely fucking wonderful if those words alone were enough to describe it.
I tried to push the memory out of my brain when Zoey's shoulders started twitching with tears again right before the end.
"You may now kiss the bride," signaled for Calum's loud family to burst into cheers.
After what I considered to be the Clash of the Tongues in the form of Calum and Nicole's mouths meeting for the first time as a married entity, we all screamed in joy. Tristan caught my wrist as we followed the newlyweds down the aisle, making our way to the small reception hall across the compound. He wrapped a heavy arm over my shoulders, pulling me in close to his side. His hand hung over my collarbone, lazily brushing his fingertips across the fine chain of the necklace he'd given me for my birthday.
"I think you're one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen," he said while we walked.
I snickered and tilted my head to look him in the eye. It was a testament to my love that I didn't nut-punch him right then. "I'm pretty sure you should only tell someone that they are the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. One of the most isn't exactly a compliment."
He squeezed me tight, laughing. "The only other person just as beautiful as you is—," he let the words hang in the air. "My mom," the asshole had the nerve to snort. "This girl I used to like on those Spanish soaps is my number three."
I couldn't help but laugh in response to his admission. "You're lucky it's your mom, jackass," I said, elbowing him in the ribs. "I'll give you your number three since I'm sure she was probably the first girl you jacked off to."
"She was!" Tristan was laughing hysterically, pulling me tighter and tighter against him with each heave of his chest. "So many times you have no idea."
"Oh lord," I shook my head, imagining a young Tristan sitting in front of his television jerking off.
His laughs died down as we walked into the reception hall, stopping right at the entrance. His pretty face was flushed from amusement. "If I had to choose between saving you or her, I'd choose you."
"Oh, thank you so much, Mag," I slapped his chest with the back of my hand, rolling my eyes at the same time. "Such an honor."
He grinned in amusement, stooping his head low so that we were eye to eye. "I love you so much, you know that?" He kissed my lips chastely. "I'll always choose you."
"Oh yeah?" I asked him in a teasing voice, nuzzling my forehead to the smooth edge of his jaw.
"Yeah," he snickered, pressing his dry lips to mine. "You're the best thing in my life."
Josh walked past us right then, fanning his eyes and letting out an exasperated sigh. "Get a room."
Pressing up onto the tips of my toes, I kissed the man in front of me one more time, mouths closed and warm on each other. Despite how much I enjoyed having his tongue battling mine, there was something so intimate and sweet about the slow, sensual kisses with our tongues in their respective mouths, that made my toes curl. It was gentle and loving, just like Tristan. "We should go inside before they come embarrass us," I warned him, pulling away to tug on his hand.
He nodded, following behind me with a sly smile.
The next two hours went by in hyper speed. There was a toast by Zoey, in which she drunkenly blurted out, "To Calum and Nicole Burro." Three-fourths of the audience, including Calum's family, were well aware of everything so it wasn't a big deal, but the others who didn't know just looked on in confusion and chalked it up to Zoey blabbering because she was wasted.
Tristan followed up with another toast, thankfully a sober one. "As many of you know, Calum and I have been friends almost our entire lives. We met in second grade when he tried to save me from getting beaten up for my lunch money by a fifth grader but instead got both of us beat up. We spent the next four years getting both of our asses kicked because neither one of us seemed to take into consideration that if only one of us got beaten up, the other could still buy lunch to share.
Even after Calum started getting a lot bigger in middle school and I wasn't, he made sure no one picked on me. He could've left me to fend for myself but he didn't. As we've gotten older, but not necessarily much wiser, we've kept that mentality between the two of us. Our friendship turned into something different, and Cal became the brother I never had. Wherever one of us went the other one followed and now, I'm glad that he's found someone else in his life to watch over and protect. Someone a lot better looking than I am, who can talk him out of doing stupid stuff instead of egging him on," it was then that I stopped paying attention because he started wiping at his eyes, smiling in the direction of his best friend.
Was it wrong that I wanted to mount him when he was in tears? Maybe, but I was so zoned out and focused on his facial expressions that I couldn't listen to the rest of his speech until he'd taken his seat next to mine afterward.
"You are so sweet," I leaned into his ear, whispering. Sliding my hand across my lap and onto his, I squeezed the firm muscles of his thigh. "You should cry tears of joy more often."
Tristan laughed, the smooth sound ringing in my ears while he put his hand over mine. "What my Kitty wants, my Kitty gets," he teased with my dad's nickname for me. Immediately after meeting Frank, he'd added that name to his repertoire. Annoying, but typical.
I rolled my eyes and bumped my shoulder against his.
The remainder of the reception was spent between the dance floor and the table where the cake was. Josh and I did everything from the running man to the sprinkler around Nicole in her beautiful cream wedding dress. The bitch knew better than to even think about putting on a white dress. I think she had a fear of getting struck by lightning if she did it, since God knows there wasn't any part of that girl that could've been considered even marginally virginal. Tristan stayed seated, moving between the table Calum's family sat at and ours on the occasion that I sat down to take a quick water break between songs.
"Having fun?" he asked coming up to me while I sat at the table for a moment.
I nodded and smiled because I was having a really good time. I was with the people I loved the most, besides my dad of course, and it was impossible to not soak in the abundance of joy and excitement that Nikki and Calum were radiating. "Are you?"
"Oh yeah, I'm having a blast sitting over there watching Cal's cousins drool over you," he chuckled.
I turned around to look in the direction where Calum's loud ass family was sitting and pretended to squint. "Was it the cute ones?"
Tristan laughed and pinched my ass. "Yeah, they're just your type. Kyle’s hitting forty and Stephen is close to your dad's age."
"Shut up," I snorted, turning back to face him.
He was grinning down at me for a moment before wrapping his arms around me, pulling me into him. I took a long and deep inhale against his chest, taking in the faint smell of his cologne. His nose brushed against the top of my hair, which w
as now a sweaty and more than likely, stinky mess. "You smell like oranges and salt."
"Salt has a smell?"
His answer was interrupted by the sudden stop in music through the hall. Calum and Nikki were standing in the middle of the floor, looking all too eager to get out of there and braid each other's privates together. "We're leaving!" Nicole announced, making her way toward the table where her dad and aunts were sitting. I pulled away from Tristan, squeezed his wrist, and then made my way over to Zoey and Josh who were waiting patiently to say their goodbyes to Nikki.
Zoey looped her arm through mine, resting her head on my shoulder. "I'm so happy that it makes me sad," she admitted.
Josh looked over at me from his spot on the other side of Zoey with wide eyes. We were both all too familiar with the random, senseless shit that came out of her mouth when she drank. Trading smirks with each other, we waited another two minutes before Nikki made her way to us while hiking up her dress. Nicole Jonasson, the Ball Buster of Seattle, was glass-eyed and beaming. It was kind of scary, like the calm before the storm, but I pushed the thought of my head.
Lingus Page 34