Finding Love's Wings

by Derrick, Zoey

  She quickens her pace against my dick. I feel her pussy pulsing and quivering hard around my cock. She's close to coming and her orgasm is going to release mine in a hot messy rush.

  I drop the bottle in the pool and grab tight onto her hips, taking over. Her moans get shorter, louder, and more frequent. Her body stiffens.

  I'm fighting with every ounce of willpower I have to stop myself from exploding, but the tip of my cock is beginning to pulse.

  "Come for me, Cami. Now!" I growl, and she lets loose at my command.

  Her sex tightens and pulses harder and I come unglued. My orgasm rocks through me. The relief is amazing. I feel my cum mixing with hers, warmth overwhelming my body as she continues milking me, sucking me in deeper.

  As my orgasm slows, she twitches her hips and I instantly become harder than I was before. I can feel my orgasm building again.

  "Jesus, Cami, you're going to make me come again."

  She doesn't slow down and I instantly understand why. She, too, is on the verge of yet another orgasm.

  As she thrusts with abandon I latch onto her left nipple, lightly using my teeth. She digs her nails into my shoulders.

  "Fuck!" she groans. "I'm coming—"

  Her breathing is rough and ragged, and when her orgasm finally hits she screams my name. My name coming from her lips during the heat of passion is my undoing again.

  PART TWENTY-NINE

  *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

  I wake up at one point during the night and quietly pad into the bathroom. Upon my return, I reach down to pull back the covers and Tristan's eyes pop open. I can just make out his silhouette and the whites of his eyes in the glow from the moonlight coming in the window.

  "You okay, Sweets?"

  "Uh huh," I mumble. "Just had to go potty."

  He pulls back the covers, inviting me underneath. I settle in and he wraps his arms around me. I feel protected like nothing in the world can hurt me. I hug him tight and he nuzzles my hair. I fall back asleep almost immediately.

  Later I wake up to Tristan kissing my shoulder. His hands are seeking, rubbing, caressing.

  "Good morning, beautiful," he whispers against my shoulder.

  It's light out now, but between the emotional roller coaster of yesterday and all the sex with Tristan, I'm still exhausted. I snuggle deeper into my pillow, mumble something incoherent, and fall asleep again.

  A few hours later my eyes begin to flutter. The bed feels strangely cold, and I realize quickly that I'm alone. Through that strange connection we share, I can sense that Tristan isn't even in the room.

  The next thing I notice is the delicious achy feeling racing throughout my body. For the first time in two days, I actually feel fully sated. The irony behind that is I know the minute I lay eyes on Tristan, that feeling will vanish faster than I can blink.

  The thought of getting to see him is what springs my eyes all the way open.

  Sitting on the table next to the bed is a glass of something resembling sparkling water and a note. The writing is rough, yet strangely elegant.

  Good Morning Beautiful Sweets, I do hope you slept well.

  I grab the glass and take a long, delicious drink. Cool black cherry flavored sparkling water. My favorite.

  I stretch, head to the bathroom, and climb into the shower. Right as I'm reaching for the nozzle to start the water, I hear Tristan's voice. It seems to be coming from the bedroom, but I don't hear him call for me, so I assume he's talking to Tyson. I think about going out to say good morning but decide I can wait ten minutes until after I've showered.

  The water's hot and steam starts to fill the bathroom. I climb in and let the water consume me. It's warm and relaxing, and it makes me think of the hot tub out on the patio. Seems like a great place to spend tonight with Beau, Mick, Jolene, Naomi, Travis, Tyson, and Tristan. I smile to myself as I name the last three, the Triple Trouble.

  Over the sound of the shower I hear a knock on the door.

  "Cami?"

  "Yes," I shout back.

  "You okay, baby-girl?"

  I peek my head out of the sliding, steam-covered glass door and smile at the sight of Tristan. He's back in his swim trunks and nothing else. I inhale deeply as my eyes devour him head to toe.

  No doubt sensing the desire quickly building in me at the sight of him, he starts to saunter toward the shower. His eyes are dark, pupils dilated. He has a look of deep, dark promise as he reaches me, and he quickly brings his lips to mine.

  The kiss, though, is surprisingly soft and chaste. Perhaps he's trying to gage my reaction, unsure of whether I'm up for it after falling asleep on him earlier.

  In answer to his unspoken question, I reach my hands up, grip the back of his neck, and pull his lips closer and tighter to mine. An involuntary moan escapes my lips, the rush of warmth flooding my core. There’s a rush of cold air as the door slides open and Tristan steps into the shower.

  He slowly backs me up against the wall, his hands first finding my hips, then caressing the curve of my butt. He lifts up, coercing me to wrap my arms around his neck so that he can pick me up. I wrap my legs around him. I'm wedged between the wall and Tristan, spread open for him, at his mercy.

  He begins tracing kisses along my jaw to my ear, where he gently licks the lobe. My nipples harden to sharp peaks, the barbells making them ache.

  As if Tristan can read my mind, his warm, wet mouth finds one nipple, then the other, licking, caressing, warming. Satisfying the ache within them. I'm writhing under his touch, quickly growing warmer with each passing caress.

  He slowly lowers me until my feet touch the cool tiles. Without any prompting, Tristan grabs my poof hanging on the wall and lathers it with the lavender scented body wash on the shelf. With his arms wrapped around me, he begins gently washing my shoulders, my back, my butt. He is careful not to rub the poof along my corset, but squeezes it so that warm soapy bubbles slide down my back.

  He lowers himself to his knees, washing my right thigh, taking careful measures, I notice, to avoid my now-aching clit. He slowly washes down my leg to my knee, my calf. After a gentle tap on the back of my ankle, I lift my foot so that he can wash and gently massage the arch and balls of my feet.

  I throw my head back in satisfaction. "That feels so good," I murmur.

  When he's done with my right foot, he slowly places it back on the tile and gently taps my other ankle. Shifting my weight, I lift my leg and he repeats the process.

  When he's done with my foot, he slowly works his way up my leg. But this time, my clit is no longer a safe zone. Bringing the poof between my legs, he rubs gently against my sex. I moan as he rubs from front to back, again and again.

  Suddenly I feel the poof hit my ankle as it falls to the ground. My eyes are closed, heightening the sensation.

  Tristan's hands are on my hips, pulling me forward and further under the water. Warm water rushes down all over my body, washing away the soapy film. Then his hand is between my legs, gently caressing my clit for a moment before sliding away to explore. I moan and silently beg his fingers to find my entrance. His thumb presses against my clit, and my knees shake.

  "Ah, Tristan, don't stop," I mewl.

  I hear his light chuckle, and the next thing I know his hand is gone. I whimper at the loss. Both hands clamp onto my hips again, and then I feel the warm wetness of his languid tongue moving across my clit, firm but soft, in circular motions that send me into a state of pure ecstasy.

  I'm only vaguely aware of his hands moving up and down my body. One finds my breast and the other gently works the entrance to my sex. Teasing strokes to bring me to the edge.

  I feel fire ignite within me and I know my orgasm is closer than I thought. My body begins to shake. So many sensations all at once. My legs stiffen as Tristan thrusts his thumb into my sex and I explode, burning fireworks going off all over my body.

  But Tristan doesn't stop; he continues working all my center points, and one of his long, sleek fingers toys gently with
the tight bud of my anus. Before I even know what's happening, the gentle pressure forces another screaming orgasm from my body.

  "Tristan," I whisper. "I am going to fall over if you don't stop."

  He slowly retreats from my body, first the hand that's caressing my nipple, then his tongue. But he kept his thumb and forefinger in place.

  He looks at me with eyes screaming wanton desire, eyes that beg me to give him anything he wants. "I want to play with this." He moans as his finger taps against my ass. I moan because every nerve in my body is alive and blazing. "But not right now," he continues. "I have plans for that, and right now I need to be buried so deep inside you that I don't have the patience to play here."

  He slowly rises to his feet, lightly running his mouth and tongue along my body as he finds his way to my lips. His kiss is hot and quick. In response I pull him closer and put all the passion I feel for him into this kiss. His mouth tastes like a sweet mix of him and my arousal, a heady combination that has my sex on fire once again.

  He reaches behind me and the water stops. He slides the door back and grabs my towel, wrapping me up nice and tight. He uses a second towel to dry my hair as best he can. He shivers.

  "Are you cold?"

  He chuckles and shakes his head. "No, I'm thinking about burying my cock deep inside your warm, dripping wet pussy."

  I blush. He can be so crass and unguarded sometimes. I love it.

  I turn to leave the shower, but he touches my shoulder. I turn back to see that he's naked, his swim trunks in a pile on the floor. His erection is causing the towel he has wrapped around his waist to tent. No doubt cool air is rushing up his erection because he shivers again.

  "I'm going to carry you," he says, then bends down and scoops me up in the firm grip of his arms.

  He walks cautiously across the bathroom floor, but when his toes hit the carpet of the bedroom he picks up the pace.

  He's gentle laying me out on the bed. Then he slowly begins to unwrap the towel, like he's unwrapping the ultimate Christmas present. I giggle at his expression. His eyes are alight with excitement.

  "What’s so funny, baby-Girl?"

  I smile. "The look on your face. The excitement in your eyes. I'm giggling because it's pretty hot."

  He chuckles, and from there we instantly become lost in each other.

  About an hour later we surface to reality. Sated and excited for tonight, I start to get dressed, but Tristan stops me.

  "Just your robe, Sweets. I have a massage waiting for you on the patio. After you're done, we’ll have lunch."

  I gape at him. "What?" I whisper. I’m completely shocked by his gesture.

  "Well, with all the stress of the last thirty-six hours, and the roaring excitement of your friends coming in tonight, I thought maybe you could use an hour or two relaxing with someone else taking care of you." He looks at me with such devotion, But his eyes are crinkled in the corners, worry? "What's wrong, Cami?"

  I don't respond right away. The fact that he was thoughtful enough to order another massage for me really has sent my thoughts into a tailspin.

  "I am just not used to..." I pause, not sure how to say what I want to say.

  I hesitate too long and Tristan finishes my unspoken thought. "You're not used to someone else caring about you, are you?"

  Emotions well up in me so strong I don't trust myself to answer, so I nod. He comes around the bed to me and wraps me in his arms. His embrace is warm and comforting. Tears prick my eyes, but I don't want him to see me cry again, not over something as trivial as this.

  Growing up in the Enders household meant that you were left to your own devices. Parents that shipped you off to boarding schools on the other side of the world. Parents who died, leaving you to face the fact that they claimed to love you and wondering whether, in some strange way, they did.

  Wrapped in Tristan's warm, protective embrace, I begin to hope that maybe I really can be loved and that I, too, can love in return.

  The revelation brings the tears to overwhelming thickness and they spill over. I'm pressed so tight to his naked chest that it takes only a matter of seconds for Tristan to realize that I'm crying.

  He tries to lift my chin to look at him. I fight it as best I can; I don't want him to see me like this.

  "Cami, baby, please don't cry. Why are you crying?"

  I sniffle a little bit, searching for the right words so that he will know how much I appreciate the gesture and what it means to me.

  I take a long, deep breath. And another. "I am very flattered, overwhelmingly so, that you would do something as sweet as getting me a massage because I've been stressed." I take another deep breath. "Tristan, I've never had anyone that's cared about me, put me before themselves, or even took the time to listen. The idea that you want to do all of that is so overwhelming that I'm not sure how to handle it. I was mistreated by my parents for my entire life, and when they were gone I was relieved and then mocked by their willingness on their deaths to attempt to prove that they loved me. Something I, to this day, cannot fathom."

  He peels himself away from me and sits on the bed. I shiver at the loss of his warmth and comfort from my body. He looks up at me. His eyes are swimming with a need to convey something.

  He reaches out for my hand, and I take a step toward him to stand between his legs, looking into his smoldering blue eyes.

  He takes a deep breath and... "Sweetie, I am deeply sorry that your parents were not what they should have been. You are a bright, brilliant, beautiful, strong woman, and your parents are the ones that realized far too late what a gem you really are. I will always do my best to put your needs before myself and before anything to do with me. The massage is because of all the stress I know I have put you through these last few days with my own personal drama. It kills me that you had to get involved in all of this."

  I open my mouth to protest, to tell him that I volunteered to help him and am doing it because I want to. But he holds up his hand to silence me.

  "Let me finish, love. I know that you came here last week to get away from all the drama in Phoenix and you met me. Something I hope is a good thing and not a damper on your vacation."

  I shake my head. How can he think that? He's the very best part of my vacation.

  "Then I bring my life down on you at blinding speed. I'm beyond grateful" –he brings his other hand to his chest, over his heart— "that I met you, and I wouldn't change anything about this week, except..." He pauses just long enough to catch his breath. "Except that I would not have had all the drama of Layla to come along with me.

  "Cami, I need you to know that you are very important to me, and I want to see you well taken care of, no matter what the price. No matter what it takes.

  “So please, go. Enjoy your massage. Relax and unwind for a while. When you're done we'll have a late breakfast delivered and adjust so that we can have dinner with our friends tonight. I would take you to Caran or Blu, but I can't go downstairs. There have been some new arrivals today." Tension fills my body. "The hotel assures Tyson that their reservations were made long before the story, but some of the women have been overheard discussing the story and me."

  I know that this is the part of his celebrity status he hates, and it's easy to understand, especially now. He has to limit his own movements, and with that, mine.

  "They're all in their early twenties. No doubt they know who I am, and I do not want to subject myself or you to the maddening fandom."

  I place my finger to his lips to silence him. He's starting to babble, and I already understand what he's saying.

  "Tristan, you are who you are. I will go with you regardless. I will endure whatever public scrutiny you will be faced with as a result of your celebrity or this stupid story. All that said, I'm more than okay staying in the suite with you."

  I lean in and place my lips on his. The now-familiar electricity zings between us.

  Our recent post-shower escapade has left me sated and somewhat exhausted, and the mass
age is sounding better and better. I'm tense for obvious reasons, but I'm also sore because the man I'm kissing is nothing short of an animal in bed.

  When the kiss ends, Tristan says, "That doesn't stop me from wanting to protect you, but your words are nice just the same. I'll do my best to remember, but please don't get angry with me if I forget."

  "Fair enough," I say, and I kiss him chastely again and reach for my robe.

  Tristan finishes dressing in a t-shirt and khaki shorts, sans underwear. Yeah, ‘cause I need the reminder that he's wearing nothing under the shorts. My sex warms. Will I ever get enough of this man? The answer between my legs is no, no I won't.

  PART THIRTY

  Hearing commotion inside the suite, Cami and I head out of the bedroom to find Tyson, Mike, Sasha, and Leroy standing in the sitting room. Cami's gaze quickly meets mine, confusion in her eyes.

  "I told Tyson on Monday that we would need a female bodyguard here for you and your friends. She blends in nicely so that when you ladies desire some unaccompanied shopping this weekend, you can take her with you."

  I've been expecting her to be angry, but instead her eyes widen slightly in fear, the reality of the situation crashing down on her in a rush. Then her expression goes from fear to adoration in a nanosecond.

  "Thank you," she breathes.

  "I just want to know you're safe. After those calls yesterday I really feel it's necessary to ensure you guys don't have any issues when you're away from Tyson or myself."