by Lyn Horner
Tristan swore softly. “Wish I’d been there to teach those brats some manners,” he said, scowling.
“My hero,” she said with a grin. She started to say something more but let it go when their food was delivered. They ate with only smatterings of conversation.
“There’s a spa if you’re interested,” Tristan said as he paid the bill, “or we can check out the bar at the main lodge. They’ll probably have a live band later.”
“I’d rather not. All the exercise and fresh air is catching up with me. Maybe I’ll sleep better tonight as you predicted.” She smiled. “I really want to take a shower and rest, if you don’t mind.”
The corners of his mouth briefly drooped but then he nodded. “No problem. We can do whatever you want, and I could use a shower myself.” He smiled but she heard disappointment in his voice. She doubted it was caused by her refusal to go drinking with him.
On the way to their suite, she remembered the heavenly way he’d made her feel the last time he kissed her. She wanted to experience that bliss again – and more, she admitted. Moments later, as Tristan closed the hall door locking out the world, she halted in the living room. Turning to face him, she twisted her hands together and licked her lips.
In a shaky voice, she asked, “Would you, um, like to shower with me?” Her face burned with embarrassment at her boldness.
His mouth fell open. He stared at her in stunned silence. Then he asked in a husky voice, “Are you certain about this?”
She gave a decisive nod. “Yes. I’m tired of being a frightened virgin, Tristan. Please help me get over my fear.”
He reached her in three long strides and wrapped her in his arms. His nostrils flared and his hazel eyes glowed. “Angel, I’ll be happy to help you.” Then he kissed her, flooding her with his passionate emotions and awakening the same melting sensations he’d induced the last time they kissed. She sagged against him when he lifted his mouth from hers.
“Come with me,” he said. Clasping her hand, he led her down the short hall to her room. Once inside, he kicked off his shoes and stripped out of his turtleneck, dropping it on the floor without hesitation. Unable to move, she stood staring at his bare chest and the springy curls of light brown hair scattered across it in a triangle that narrowed and disappeared beneath his black pants. Looking up, he stopped with hands at the top of his bulging fly. His eyes screwed shut for a moment and he dragged in a ragged breath.
“I’m moving too fast. Sorry. It’s just that I want you so much,” he said gruffly. He padded over to her. “But there’s no rush, we’ll take our time.” Lightly caressing her arms from shoulders to wrists through her clinging shirt, he sent sparks racing along her nerve endings. “Why don’t we start by removing this?” He fingered the sleeves of her T-top.
Char’s teeth chattered, nearly making her bite her tongue. “A-a-alright.”
He gathered up her shirt to above her waist. She raised her arms and he peeled the garment off over her head, causing her hair to crackle with static electricity. Watching him gaze at her lacy flesh-toned bra and the swell of her rapidly rising and falling breasts, she had to clench her fists to keep from covering herself. She expected him to reach out and touch what he stared at, but instead, he crouched at her feet.
“Let’s get rid of your shoes and socks.” Gripping her ankle, he glanced up with an expectant quirk of his eyebrows, waiting for her to raise her foot, she realized.
Obliging him, she steadied herself with one hand on his bare shoulder, feeling muscles bunch and stretch beneath his warm skin. His intense sexual desire instantly raced up her arm to her brain, making her breath catch. He removed first one shoe and sock and then the other. Setting them aside, he rose and met her unsure gaze.
“Now these,” he said, fingertips tracing the top edge of her stretch pants, grazing her stomach.
“That tickles!” Giggling, she batted his hand away and took a step back.
He chuckled and raised both hands, palms out. “I won’t touch. You take them off.”
She bit her lip and dipped her chin, hair swinging forward to hide her burning cheeks. With her heart doing jumping jacks, she gripped the waistband of her pants and eased them down past her hips and thighs, letting them drop to the floor. Feeling frightfully exposed in her bra and matching flesh-toned bikini panties, she kicked the stretch pants away and hugged her midriff, face turned aside, unable to meet his gaze.
“Don’t feel embarrassed, honey. You’re beautiful,” Tristan said hoarsely.
Darting a glance at him, she inhaled sharply. He’d stepped back to remove his own pants, leaving him bare except for black, low-cut briefs. Familiar with male anatomy from her nursing classes and hospital stint, she knew a perfect specimen when she saw one.
Sweet Mother Danu, he was magnificent! Tall and flawlessly proportioned, his broad shoulders and chest narrowed into a slim waist and hips, above long, muscular legs. Noticing his underwear barely contained his jutting erection, she found it suddenly difficult to breathe.
He crossed the short distance separating them and, smiling, took hold of her wrists and gently lowered her hands to her sides. Then he slipped his arms around her and drew her close, enveloping her in his warmth and manly scent. Conscious of his stiff penis against her belly, she swallowed convulsively, pulse racing.
“Relax, honey. You want this, remember?” Giving her no time to reconsider, he claimed her lips, kissing her long and deep until she clung to him, tongue twining with his. Caught up in the feverish sensations radiating from him, intensifying her own, she barely noticed his hands sliding up her back. Only when her bra went slack did she realize he’d unclasped it. Again, he gave her no time to think of protesting. Sliding the bra straps down her arms, he pulled the scrap of lace free, tossed it aside and pressed her naked breasts to the hard wall of his chest.
His chest hair made her nipples ache and tighten. She moaned when he abandoned her mouth to kiss his way down her throat to the crook of her neck and shoulder, where his touch made her quiver in reaction. He bent lower, covering her collarbone and the top of her breasts with more hot, wet kisses. His hand rose to capture one full orb. He petted and gently squeezed, then flicked his thumb at the stiffened crest. Darts of fire raced through her. She gasped and slammed her eyes shut.
He cupped her bottom in his big hands and lifted until her breasts were level with his mouth. Her eyes flew open. Smiling, he said thickly, “Wrap your legs around my waist.” When she complied, he took the pink crown of one breast into his mouth and sucked. A bolt of lightning shot straight to her woman’s parts. She cried out and threw back her head, grabbing fistfuls of his hair and arching into him, swamped by the exquisite sensations he caused.
Shifting his attention to her other breast, he sent the same indescribable shafts of pleasure shooting through her. When she thought she might faint in his arms, he released her swollen nipple. Panting and in a daze, she clung to him as he carried her to the big bed, tossed back the covers and stretched her out on the mattress.
“I-I thought we were going to shower,” she said unevenly.
“Later. Right now, I can’t wait to make love to you.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Tristan saw eagerness in Char’s eyes, but also a hint of fear. “Have you changed your mind, angel? If you have, tell me now before we go any farther.”
She hesitated a second or two then murmured, “I haven’t changed my mind. I want you, Tristan.”
He breathed a sigh of relief. “All right, honey. I’m all yours.” Kissing her and fondling her breasts until she was clinging to him again, he traveled lower. He petted and kissed every satiny inch over her ribs, past her waist to her quivering abdomen. When he reached her lacy panties he worked them down, tonguing her navel to distract her while he slipped the flimsy garment free of her hips and partway down her thighs. Did she feel how much he wanted her? If so, she didn’t seem to mind judging by her soft sighs.
Gliding his mouth to the tender area just abov
e of her pubic mound, he drew a whimper from her lips. Hoping it meant she enjoyed what he was doing, he scooted lower and dragged off her bothersome panties. With them out of the way, he gently nudged her legs apart. She gasped when he began to kiss the soft skin of her inner thighs. Venturing farther north, he nuzzled the fiery curls guarding her hidden treasure.
“No! Don’t!” she blurted, pushing at his head and attempting to squirm away.
He gripped her hips to stop her. “It’s alright, angel. This is just one way for me to pleasure you. Don’t fight me.”
She stopped fighting but her body remained as stiff as a mannequin’s. “But it seems so improper and I, I haven’t even washed.”
Chuckling, he blew lightly on her soft curls. “Honey, nothing is improper if we both enjoy it and I love your scent. Let me show you how much. Please.”
He felt her relax slightly and took that as permission. Carefully parting her nether lips, he ran his tongue from her opening to her clit. She yelped in surprise or excitement, he wasn’t sure which. Maybe both. Concentrating on his task, he laved her over and over, flicking his tongue at her node of pleasure each time. When she clutched his head and moaned, he knew her inhibitions had melted away.
Determined to send her over the edge, he inserted one finger into her narrow opening, encountering her virgin membrane. She jumped but didn’t protest. Continuing to stir her senses with his mouth, he worked a second finger into her, hoping to stretch her a bit, and set up a slow in and out rhythm. Thrashing her head back and forth, making little mewling sounds, she instinctively lifted her hips, further inflaming his painful need for her. He couldn’t wait much longer.
Increasing the tempo of his hand movements, he nipped very gently at her clit. She came with a scream, her inner walls beating like a heart around his fingers. He waited for the spasms to slow before withdrawing. Glancing at her, he saw her eyes were closed and she wore a look of dreamy delight on her face. Pleased to see it, he quickly shed his briefs and rose over her until the head of his rock-hard penis prodded her moist cleft. Her eyelids parted to reveal brilliant blue eyes soft with fulfillment.
“That was unbelievable,” she whispered, smiling sweetly.
He grinned. “That was just the appetizer, sweetheart. Now we’ll have the main course.” He turned serious, frowning. “This is your first time, so there will be some pain, but afterward –”
She pressed a finger to his lips. “I know. I’m not completely naïve.” Still smiling, she clasped his shoulders. “Take me, Tristan. Now.”
Growling low in his throat, he sealed her lips with his and probed into her. When he reached her barrier, he drew back slightly and drove forward, breaking through the delicate tissue. She cried out, the sound muffled by his mouth, and dug her nails into his shoulders. He didn’t move.
“Are you okay?” he whispered, raising his head to gaze at her.
“Y-yes, I’m fine. It only hurt for a moment.” Her voice wobbled slightly but she wove her fingers through his hair and tugged him down for another kiss. Their tongues mated in a timeless dance as he began to move, drawing slowly out then gliding back into her slick, warm passage. She slipped her arms around him and lifted her hips the way she had before, matching the rhythm of his strokes while he gritted his teeth, fighting to control himself.
She dug her fingernails into his back. “Stop holding back!” she gasped. “I feel … what you feel. Need you … move faster!”
“Gladly!” Letting go, he drove into her faster and faster, exploding with a howl of victory just as she cried out in ecstasy again.
Exhausted, he buried his face in her long, fragrant hair, supporting part of his weight on his forearms to keep from crushing her. His body hummed with enjoyment as she caressed his back.
When he was capable of moving, he slipped from her and flopped onto his back next to her. She mumbled in complaint, rolled to her side and cuddled against him. Smiling placidly, he folded his arms around her, settling her head on his shoulder. She molded her soft curves to him, laying one bent leg across his thigh, nearly touching his genitals, and gave a contented sigh. His muzzy brain rejoiced to know she’d gotten over her shyness. Then he dozed off.
Much later, he carried her into the bathroom and showered with her as she’d invited him to do. Beneath the warm spray, they made love again and afterward they slept curled in each other’s arms once more, not speaking of what tomorrow might bring.
*
They left the lodge around mid morning the next day. Char sat quietly enjoying the sunny, snow-blanketed countryside and the man beside her as he drove them back to Long Island. Never in her life had she felt so deliriously happy, and it was all thanks to Tristan. He’d been so patient with her, showing her she had nothing to fear in his arms and proving she could enjoy being touched – by the right man. Except for that brief stinging pain when he first entered her, she’d experienced only fiery passion, both hers and his. Their mutual climax had felt as if they were soaring to heaven. Together.
They spoke little but smiled at each other a lot and held hands often during the drive home. As Tristan drove up the estate’s curving driveway, he said, “I want to see you again, soon.”
She nodded. “I want that too, but you know we’ll have to plan everything around Sally’s schedule.”
“Not necessarily. There’s nothing to prevent me dropping by during off hours at the restaurant. I can entertain Marilee for a while.” He grinned and winked. “And when she’s napping, you and I can entertain each other.”
Char grew warm all over as he stopped outside the mansion. “There’s nothing I’d like better,” she replied, voice quivering. She parted her lips and watched his gaze lock onto them. Wishing they could go up to her room and make love but knowing that was impossible, she cleared her throat. “I’d better go in.”
“I’ll bring in your bags.” He climbed out of the car and hastened around to open her door and offer his hand. When she accepted it, he helped her out and drew her into his arms, claiming her lips in a hot, hungry kiss. “God, I want you so much,” he muttered, leaning his forehead against hers.
“I want you too, but we can’t, not now.”
“Yeah, I know, dammit.” Releasing her, he reached into the car and lifted out her duffle bag and overnight tote. Wearing an unhappy frown, he walked her to the door and followed her in after she unlocked it. He waited while she punched in the security code then asked, “Do you want the bags upstairs?”
She shook her head. “You can just set them down. I’ll take them up on the elevator after –”
The sound of hurried footsteps cut her off. A second later, Sally came rushing up the hall, drying her hands on a towel. “I thought I heard the door,” she said, smiling in welcome. “I was just tidying up the kitchen. We had a bit of an accident over lunch.”
“What happened? Is Marilee alright?” Char asked worriedly, striding toward the other woman.
“She’s fine.” Patting the air in a calming motion, Sally explained, “The top came off her sippy cup and she spilled her milk. She cried because her dress got wet, but I cleaned her up and let her pick out another pretty dress. That made her happy.”
“I’m sure it did.” Char laughed, relieved to hear the incident wasn’t more serious.
“She does love her pretties.” Plump cheeks crinkling in a smile, Sally added, “I put her down for a nap a while ago and just now finished mopping the kitchen floor.”
“I’m sorry you had to deal with the mess, Sally. Thank you for handling it.”
“Don’t worry your head about it, dear. These things happen, and I’ve dealt with far worse in my time. Anyway, now that you and your young man are back, I should be going. Just let me put this towel in the laundry and collect my things.”
Listening to the woman’s steps recede down the hall, Char turned to Tristan, who’d stood silently observing her exchange with the nurse. She noticed he’d deposited her bags on the floor as she asked and had unzipped his jacket. “I
’m sorry to keep you waiting. If you need to go –”
“I’m in no hurry.” He strolled toward her, eyes sparkling and lips crooked up. “Since my sweet cousin is napping, perhaps we can indulge in some of that adult entertainment we were talking about.”
Tilting her head to the side, she splayed her hands on his chest and smiled coyly. “Perhaps.”
He chuckled, the sound vibrating under her hands, and bent close, his breath fanning her cheek. His lips were a fraction of an inch from hers when they heard the elevator followed by Sally’s steps tapping along the hall toward them. They broke apart a moment before she appeared, wearing her coat and carrying a small suitcase. Char paid her the amount they’d agreed upon and thanked her again. They hugged and the older woman turned to go. She stopped suddenly.
“I almost forgot, you had visitors yesterday, a couple. The woman seemed anxious to contact you. She left a message. It’s on the table there.” She pointed to the marble-topped console standing against one wall, beneath a large oval mirror.
“Thank you,” Char said, surprised by this news. She waited for Sally to leave then glanced at Tristan. “I should see who my unexpected visitors were.”
He nodded with a resigned expression on his face. “Of course.”
Crossing to the long, curved cabinet, she picked up the note and unfolded the paper. She read the few words scrawled upon it and caught her breath. What on earth was Lara Flewellen, the High Guardian’s niece, doing in New York and why did she say it was urgent that they speak? Deciding she’d better find out, she turned to Tristan.
“Um, it’s from a, a friend. She left a phone number. She says it’s urgent. I need to call her. Do you mind waiting while I step across the hall?” She pointed to a set of pocket doors enclosing the formal dining room.
He cocked an eyebrow and started to say something, no doubt wondering why she needed privacy to make the call. Evidently changing his mind, he shrugged and said, “Sure, take your time. I’ll wait in there.” He gestured toward the living room.