Drawn That Way

by Bronwyn Green

  He trailed his lips from her mouth to her ear. “I’m trying to go slow, but I’m not sure how long I can hold back.”

  She bit his earlobe and whispered, “Did I ask you to hold back?”

  On a groan, he sank his teeth into the tender muscle between her shoulder and neck and thrust into her so hard she screamed. She was so close to coming again, it was ridiculous. And that bite…

  “Again,” she demanded.

  He lifted his head and stared down at her. It was impossible to miss the near-feral gleam in his eyes. The corners of his mouth lifted, and he pressed kisses down her chest, stopping on the swell of her breast just above her nipple. He turned his head and briefly met her gaze before licking that spot then bearing down with his teeth. It didn’t really hurt—not a lot, anyway, but that pain, combined with what she’d seen in his eyes, morphed into unbelievable pleasure as she began spasming around his cock. He pushed through her rippling passage, prolonging her orgasm as he sought his own.

  He plunged into her willing body, his muscles straining. It was difficult, but she refused to close her eyes. She wanted to see his face when he came. The niggling fear that this might be her only chance was impossible to quell, and she didn’t want to waste it.

  She lifted her hips to meet his, shuddering at the way his body slammed into hers. The way he fucked her—hard and fast—as if he’d lost all control, was probably the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. She loved the way his neck corded as he pushed forward. The almost-grimace of concentration on his face. The way his eyes closed then opened, looking at her as though he was somehow amazed to find her there, beneath him.

  All of it coiled inside her, driving her need higher and pushing her back toward the same cliff she’d just toppled over—except this one felt higher. More dangerous. Just before she went over the edge, she realized why. She was beginning to care for him. And, when she hit bottom, there wouldn’t be anything there to break her fall. Her heart had already left her body.

  Her release tumbled through her. Fiery pleasure lashed her as she clenched around him. Her fingers knotted in his hair, and her internal muscles grasped him as he continued to power through her channel. She watched his face as he lost all sense of rhythm. His thrusts grew wilder until he finally stiffened and lunged into her one last time before empting himself into the condom. She couldn’t help but remember what he’d said about having nothing between them and wishing desperately that it was possible.

  Rory slumped against her, his face buried in her neck, his weight welcome and comforting. She released her death grip on his hair and smoothed her hands down his back, loving the feel of his muscles shifting beneath his skin as he gathered her closer. She sighed in relief. She’d been afraid that, realizing how spectacularly he’d broken his rule about kissing her, he’d push her away in an attempt to reclaim some of the distance he seemed to crave.

  Slowly, he started to lift his head, and she closed her eyes. She didn’t want to see the regret she was afraid would be there.

  “Tristan.” The rusty sound of his voice settled in her womb, but she didn’t open her eyes.

  “Hmm?” she finally said, hoping her worry wasn’t obvious.

  “Open your eyes.”

  It wasn’t a request. She blinked and met his brilliant blue gaze—so sharp it almost took her breath away.

  “Are you all right?” he asked. “This wasn’t too much?”

  She shook her head. “I’m fine.”

  He frowned, and she found herself wanted to smooth away the furrow between his brows with her fingertips.

  “You’re saying you’re fine, but you’re shaking your head. I’m pretty sure that’s the textbook example of sending mixed signals.”

  She couldn’t stop the smile that crept across her face. Nodding her head in an exaggerated fashion, she said, “Yes, I’m fine.” Then, she shook it. “And, no, it wasn’t too much.” She took a deep breath. “It was very nearly perfect.”

  He stroked a thumb along her cheekbone and smiled, almost ruefully. “It seems I’m better at respecting other people’s limits than my own.”

  “Is that a limit you have for everyone? Or just me?” she blurted.

  He stared at her, but instead of answering, he lowered his head and brushed his lips across hers. It was hardly even a kiss. Just the briefest touching of mouths. He kissed her again. More thoroughly this time, but it was still slow and soft—a delicate exploration. She slid her hand behind his neck and kissed him back.

  When he finally broke away, the teasing light was gone from his eyes. “Just you.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Hurt clouded Tristan’s expression, and Rory wanted to punch himself in the throat for putting it there.

  She forced a strained smile. “Good to know I’m special.”

  He sighed and lowered his forehead to hers for a moment. Christ. Why had he told her the truth? This was why he didn’t do relationships. He fucked everything up and just ended up hurting people who didn’t deserve to be hurt. “You are special. That’s the problem.”

  He finally lifted his head afraid to see what effect, if any, his words had. Reluctantly, he met her eyes. She didn’t look like she believed him. Could there be a more awkward time for this conversation? He was still inside her, for fuck’s sake.

  He blew out a hard breath. “I don’t really do relationships. Beyond friendships, I mean. And even those…” He shrugged. The motion rubbed his chest against her still pebble-hard nipples, making it even more difficult to think clearly.

  “I knew, that despite my attraction to you, that I shouldn’t let myself get involved. But then, the whole Tumblr thing happened, and I couldn’t stop myself.”

  He chanced a look at her face. She watched him intently.

  “I put kissing as a limit because I thought it would be easier to keep it more impersonal.” He laughed to himself. “I’d also said only once. For the same reason.” He looked down at where her breasts were pressed against his chest. “But you can see how well both of those plans worked.”

  He brushed her hair away from her eyes, trying to smother the never-ending urge to kiss her.

  “Is this your way of saying you’d rather not do this again and that you’d like me to leave now?” He opened his mouth, but she continued before he could speak. “If that’s the case, that’s fine…but you’re going to need to get off me so I can get my clothes on.”

  He couldn’t tell what she was thinking. Or whether or not she was upset. He sighed. “That’s just it. I do want to do this, again. I don’t want you to leave. But I’m shit at relationships.”

  There was a long pause, but she finally said, “And more important than being shit at relationships,” she said, “you don’t want a relationship.”

  He nodded. “Which makes me feel like an asshole for wanting you to stay.” He stared into her sea-glass-colored eyes. “And wanting to kiss you, again.”

  “Do you remember when I said that I wasn’t looking for a relationship, either?”

  He nodded.

  “Then, it should put your mind at ease to know that despite your wizardry with your hands, and your mouth, and your cock, I’m still not looking for a relationship.”

  Rory’s lips quirked.

  “I’m not going to get clingy,” she continued. “Or start demanding things you don’t feel comfortable giving. If it gets to be too much, we can always just walk away and go back to how things were before. No harm, no foul.”

  “You don’t think that would be awkward.”

  She shrugged. “It probably would be. For a while. But we’re both adults. I’m sure we’d get past it.” She reached up and brushed her thumb between his eyebrows, as if smoothing away his frown. “So, if you want to continue where we left off and just have a co-workers-with-benefits situation—”

  “I’d prefer friends-with-benefits,” he interrupted.

  She smiled, and it was easily one of the most beautiful things he’d ever seen.

  “In
that case, maybe you should just kiss me again and not worry about the rest.”

  Maybe she was right. Maybe they could just continue as they had been. God knew he wasn’t even close to ready to give up their encounters. And it wasn’t as if he were in danger of falling in love with her or anything. He dropped a kiss on the tip of her nose and eased out of her body. “Don’t go anywhere.”

  He quickly disposed of the condom, grabbed another one and the blanket off the back of the couch. Spreading the blanket over the mat, he motioned her onto it, joining her.

  “I don’t suppose you want to give me one of those amazing head and shoulder massages, do you?” she asked.

  “Do you have another headache?”

  “No. I just like the feel of your hands on my body,” she said with a grin.

  He rolled his eyes. “Turn around.”

  She complied, and he got to work rubbing her tight muscles and working out any knots from her neck and upper back. The sound of her appreciative groans shot straight to his cock.

  “So…questions,” she said. “The personal kind. Are they off limits?”

  “They don’t have to be, I guess.”

  She glanced at him over her shoulder. “Well, we are shagging each other’s brains out. A little info sharing wouldn’t really be remiss, would it?”

  “I guess not.” He actually hated answering personal questions, but he also couldn’t seem to deny her anything. “I assume you have one in mind?”

  “It seems like you’re always in control of sex.”

  He slid his thumbs up the center of her neck. “That’s not a question.”

  She groaned again, but managed to push out a few words. “How come?”

  “Because I like it. I like to be the one giving pleasure.”

  She turned around to face him. “And the pain.”

  “But the pain brings you pleasure.” He reached out and pinched her nipple. He was rewarded by her breath hissing through her clenched teeth.

  “Fair enough,” she said when she opened her eyes again. “But what about receiving?”

  He shrugged. “I’m not really into pain. It doesn’t do it for me.”

  “No.” She frowned. “I’m talking about receiving pleasure.”

  He stroked his fingertips along her inner thigh. “Were you under the impression that I wasn’t enjoying myself?”

  “Are you capable of having sex without being in charge? And before you ask, I’m fine with things the way they are. But I can’t help but feel like I’m getting the better end of the deal, here.”

  He just watched her, wondering where she was going with this.

  She took a breath. “Do you trust me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then, let me please you.” She stared into his eyes for the longest time before she finally leaned forward and kissed him. He allowed her to press him backwards, until he was lying on the blanket and she was straddling him. “Just humor me, okay?”

  He folded his hands behind his head and waited.

  The flash of excitement in her smile warmed parts of him he hadn’t realized were cold. Dipping her head, she dragged kisses along his jaw and down his neck, nipping at the sensitive flesh as she traveled lower. Using her fingers and mouth, she mapped his shoulders and chest, leaving no square inch of skin unexplored.

  By the time she reached his stomach, his nerves were screaming, protesting at remaining still and not pounding her into the floor. His abdomen jumped under the soft caress of her lips as she inched closer to his aching dick.

  She shifted to kneel between his spread legs and look up at him. “How are you doing? You seem a little…agitated.” He didn’t miss her mischievous smile.

  “Fine.” His voice sounded undeniably tight. He hoped she didn’t notice it, but when her smile grew, he knew she had.

  She dragged her tongue along the crease of his thigh—right where it met his groin. When she repeated the action on the opposite side, he had to grab the blanket to keep from grabbing her head and shoving it where he wanted it. She kissed and teased every bit of his pelvis while completely ignoring his cock. His cock that was dripping pre-come on his stomach.

  “Looks like you’re making a mess. I’ll just clean that up for you.” Her tongue darted out, and she swiped away the fluid sending shivers along his spine.

  “You’re trying to kill me,” he groaned.

  “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger,” she said, right before she engulfed the head of his cock and took him as far down her throat as she could. His back came up off the mat, and it was all he could do not to twist his fingers in her hair and guide her at the speed and pressure he wanted.

  Gripping the base of his cock, she bobbed up and down, swirling her tongue around his head on each upward stroke while he fought every instinct he possessed.

  “Tristan.”

  She let his cock fall from between her lips. “Yes?”

  “We’re going to have to compromise. I need to be inside your cunt right fucking now.”

  “That doesn’t sound like a compromise.”

  “You can be on top,” he rasped. “I can’t promise I won’t have my hands on your body, my fingers digging into your ass, guiding your every move. But I can promise you can be on top. And you can try to set the pace.”

  She held his gaze, clearly accepting his challenge as she tore open the condom packet and sheathed him. Straddling him again, she guided him into her pussy. Her breath hissed out as she sank down on his length, letting it fill her inch by excruciating inch.

  He needed to touch her. His hands slid up her thighs, her skin so fucking soft under his palms. At this rate, he didn’t see himself ever being ready to walk away from her. And, while that thought made him nervous, it wasn’t the cold, gut-wrenching fear he’d thought it would be.

  She placed her hands on his chest to balance herself as she rose up, almost letting him slip from between her folds. Her eyes closed, and her teeth sank into her lower lip as she concentrated. God, she was beautiful. Far more beautiful than any model he’d ever worked with. She wasn’t perfect, but he was beginning to wonder if she was perfect for him.

  Her eyes opened, and she pinned him with that gorgeous green gaze. For a moment, he imagined never seeing that sexy, sleepy-eyed expression directed at him again, and his chest ached at the thought.

  The idea of losing her ramped up his need, and he grabbed her hips, desperate to imprint himself on her—body and soul. Digging his fingers into her hips and ass, he yanked her down his length, slamming his cock as far inside her as he could go, pushing a cry from her throat.

  Her head fell back as she rode him, and her nipples seemed painfully tight. He knew her body well enough by now that he could tell it wouldn’t be long.

  “I want you to come,” he murmured.

  She lifted her head and opened her eyes, meeting his gaze.

  “I want you to come so hard you milk my cock until I’ve got nothing left. I want you to squeeze me and don’t stop until you’ve wrung every—”

  Her orgasm ripped through her, rippling and pulsing around him as she came, squeezing his shaft so hard it was nearly impossible to move. But he managed it, tunneling through her cunt until a tingling sensation pooled at the base of his spine and finally exploded outward as she took him over the edge with her.

  Rory blinked away the black spots that floated in front of his eyes as he stroked Tristan’s back where she’d collapsed on his chest. As he carded his fingers through her hair with his other hand, he couldn’t help but wonder if their arrangement was already moot. The idea of a relationship scared the fuck out him. But the possibility of being without Tristan terrified him a hell of a lot more.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Tris blearily pushed open her office door and startled a bit to find Clover sitting in the chair in front of the desk, dressed in Adventure Time pajama bottoms, a Doctor Who t-shirt and a purple flowered sweatshirt. Tris was guessing she’d come to work in her jammies, and she looked a
s tired as Tris felt.

  “You’re late.”

  “And good morning to you, too, Sunshine.”

  Tris made her way to her own chair as Clover pushed a Starbucks cup toward her. “Vente, cinnamon dolce latte—quadruple espresso with extra flavoring. I figured you needed both the caffeine and sugar to keep you going after last night.”

  Panic rose in Tris’ throat. “What do you mean?”

  Clover leaned forward. “You don’t have to tell me anything, but you should know that I knocked on Rory’s door last night because I forgot my hoodie. There was no answer, but strangely, both of your cars were in the parking lot, and you weren’t anywhere else in the building.”

  Heat flushed Tristan’s face as she remembered exactly what she and Rory were doing when they’d heard the knock on the door. He’d been slapping her pussy. She squeezed her thighs together at the sudden, sharp ache, recalling the feeling of his hand clamped over her mouth, his breath in her ear and the sting of his fingers against her clit.

  When she didn’t respond, Clover continued, “After I left here, I went to the club to meet some friends. Like a dumbass, I didn’t leave until two, but on my way home, I decided to swing by the office.” She paused for a minute to take a sip of her own coffee. “I admit, it was mostly morbid curiosity to see if you two were still here. You were. He was kissing you outside your car. Well…it was more like he was kissing you slammed up against your car.”

  Tristan dropped her head to the desk and groaned.

  “I’m not asking for all the sordid details,” Clover said. “But I do need to know that you’re okay, and you’re down with whatever’s going on. That he’s not taking advantage of you, somehow.”

  Tris shook her head while it was still pressed against the cool wood of her desk. “He’s not. I promise.” Finally, she looked up at Clover. “He’s really not. And I’m sorry I lied to you before.”