Her Immortal Love

by Diana Castle

  “Now,” he said softly.

  Lydia exploded into the most powerful orgasm she’d ever had in her life. She cried out, her head tossing back and forth across the pillows. She reached down and clutched Tristan’s hair, shamelessly grinding her sex against his face as the hot ripples of her climax scorched through her pelvis. She closed her eyes, her body violently shuddering, her heart hammering in her chest. After long, passionate moments in which she wasn’t even conscious of herself as being separate from the universe, her orgasm finally subsided. She slowly opened her eyes, her breath rasping in her chest. She looked down her body.

  Tristan apparently had been watching her as she came, his dark blue eyes half-lidded, his firm lips glistening with her juices.

  “Tristan,” was all she could manage to say.

  “You’re so beautiful when you come,” he said softly. “I want to make you come again and again and again. I want to spend the whole night watching you come.”

  He pulled himself up the bed and nestled his body between her thighs. He lowered his head and kissed her. She tasted herself on his mouth. His kiss was so deep it took her breath away. She slid her arms around his neck, knowing she shouldn’t lose herself too deeply in his kiss or, most especially, lose herself in him, but singularly aware that the temptation to do so was ever present and growing stronger the more time she spent with him.

  He slowly but thoroughly worked his cock inside her, his thrusts slow and shallow at first, but with each stroke he went deeper. He took his time fucking her. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him tight against her. He twisted his hips in such a way that his cock rubbed against her clit. She whimpered and rotated her hips to match his movements.

  “Hmmm, yes, feels good,” he murmured against her lips. “Feels so damned good. Your hot, sweet cunt.”

  She moaned, enjoying the sound of his voice when he said those words.

  He moved his mouth over to her ear. “You want me to talk dirty?” He pounded his cock harder inside her. “Say nasty things to you while I fuck you?”

  “Yes, yes, please, oh, please.” She gripped her legs tighter around his waist, her nails raking across his perspiring back.

  He groaned, pushing her deeper into the bed. It violently rocked beneath his hard, potent thrusts. “Gonna fuck you. Fuck you hard. Fuck you good. Make you come, baby. Make you come all around my hard, thick cock.”

  She mewled beneath him as he drove deeper inside her, pushing her closer and closer to that blissful precipice, that sweet oblivion. “Yes, yes, don’t stop, don’t stop. Fuck me. Fuck me.”

  A low growl thrummed within his chest as he thrust into her with bruising intensity. Their loins rubbed moistly together, the coarse hair of his groin crushing lusciously against her sex, her heels rubbing frantically alongside his firm calves. His thrusts inside her were strong and deep, mastering her pleasure so that when she came it was a black-hot orgasm that mercilessly gripped her womb.

  She released a long, slow wail of bliss.

  Tristan pulled out of her, flipped her onto her stomach and grabbed her ass. She wondered if he was going to take her anally, wondered if she could handle it. But he didn’t. He thrust his cock back into her throbbing pussy and, when he was once again inside her, went back to fucking her. Savagely, ferociously.

  She’d never been fucked like this before. Douglas had never taken her from the rear. The world swirled around her and when she climaxed again, her orgasm was rich and thick and succulent, red and orange bands of fire searing her blood, her body, her soul.

  “Oh god!” she screamed.

  “Yes, that’s it. Come with me, sweet.”

  She cried out again, as another orgasm swept over her, drowning out all coherent thought. Tristan leaned over her, nipping at her neck, her shoulder, his cock hammering inside her.

  She pushed her ass hard against his groin, moaning deep in her chest as he speared his cock inside her. Sliding his hands around her waist, he grabbed her breasts and pinched her pointed nipples.

  She rocked her head from side to side, tears sliding from her eyes, her body shaking wildly from his hard fucking. Then she felt him stiffen, the heat of him spreading through her cunt and her hips like fire, his seed flooding into her.

  Condoms. Oh god, they’d forgotten condoms.

  His hands gripped her breasts as he groaned out his orgasm, his lips sliding over her hot, moist skin. When he pulled out of her, he rolled over and collapsed on his back next to her. Both of them struggled for breath and it was some moments before either could speak.

  “Tristan—”

  He looked over at her. “I know. I forgot. I’m sorry. But trust me, you don’t have to worry about anything. I don’t have any STDs, I’m not HIV positive and I can’t get you pregnant.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “What?”’

  “I’m sterile.”

  “But, I mean, how...you’re so young.”

  “Youth has nothing to do with it. I can’t get you pregnant. I can’t get any woman pregnant.”

  “Are you sure?” She wasn’t concerned about getting pregnant. She hadn’t all those years she’d tried with Douglas, but the thought of someone like Tristan not being able to have children saddened her.

  He silently nodded, his eyes staring into hers.

  “Do you want children?”

  “Of course. But I can’t have any and I’ve learned over time to live with it.” He released a breath. “I just didn’t want you to worry about any of that.”

  She still couldn’t bring herself to tell him she was barren. Since it was a topic that never failed to make her hurt inside, she just avoided talking about it when she could. “I wasn’t worried but thank you for telling me.”

  He put his arm around her and drew her next to him. She snuggled against him and nibbled on his neck, her hand playing lightly with his soft, wet cock.

  He laughed. “You’re insatiable, sweet.”

  She drew her finger down the damp hairs on his chest. “And you’re incredible.”

  He grinned and stretched one muscular arm over his head. “I am, aren’t I?”

  “Not very modest though,” she replied.

  He only shrugged and gave her a wide grin.

  Her stomach growled. She thought about all the food at her mother’s party and wished she’d taken a plate home with her.

  “I heard that,” he said. “You want me to go out and get something for you?”

  She shook her head. “I need to go to the grocery store, but I think there’s some salami and cheese in the fridge.” She made as if to get up.

  He stopped her. “Allow me, my lady.” He rose from the bed then a sheepish look appeared on his face. “And the kitchen is where?”

  She laughed. “Down the hall to your right.”

  “I shall return anon. Do you require anything else, my lady?”

  She smiled warmly at him. “Only you.”

  His dark blue eyes smoldered at her from across the bedroom. “You already have that, sweet.”

  He left, leaving Lydia with that delightful image of his tall, naked body. She nestled her own body deeper into the bed, running her fingers up her stomach and then onto her breasts. They weren’t as firm as they used to be, but Tristan hadn’t seemed to mind. Not judging from the way he had licked and sucked them.

  She smiled then frowned as she recalled what her mother had said. That Tristan had some kind of perverse mother complex if he was into dating older women. Lydia didn’t know anything about his mother. Or his father. She hadn’t really asked him about his family yet, and he certainly hadn’t been forthcoming with any information about them. She supposed it wasn’t all that odd since they’d only been seeing each other for a couple of weeks.

  He came back into the bedroom carrying a tray upon which was the salami, a block of cheese, crackers and a knife. He placed the tray on the bed and slid back into bed next to her.

  Smelling the cheese, Lydia’s stomach grumbled again.

&n
bsp; He picked up the cheese and began slicing it.

  “Ouch.”

  “What’s wrong?” She looked at his finger. There was a thin line of blood on the skin. She moved to get up from the bed. “I’ve got some bandages in the bathroom.”

  He grabbed her arm and pulled her back. “No, that’s all right. I’m fine.”

  “Are you sure?” She reached for his hand but was surprised when he pulled it back.

  “Yes, I’m fine.”

  Douglas had been the same way. Not wanting her to make a fuss when he hurt himself. “Don’t be such a baby. Give me your hand.”

  Tristan stared at her, released a breath then let her take his hand.

  There was no sign of the cut. She frowned. “I saw blood.”

  “I just nicked it.” He slid his hand away from hers and turned it around. “See. No blood. You only thought you saw it.” He picked up a slice of cheese and pressed it against her lips. “Here, eat.”

  She opened her mouth. As she chewed, she stared at his hand. She could have sworn....

  A cellphone rang. She recognized the ringtone. It was hers. She looked over at her purse, which lay on the floor near the bedroom door.

  “Don’t answer it,” he said.

  She was tempted not to, but then she noticed his cell phone. He had placed it on her nightstand. Close by, she assumed, so he could quickly grab it. She had no doubts that if it rang he would answer it immediately. He had to, at the very least, afford her the same consideration.

  She rolled off the bed and walked over to her purse, in which the cellphone was persistently playing one of her favorite Fleetwood Mac songs.

  He whistled.

  She turned and looked back at him.

  “If you could just see yourself from the back.” He licked his lips. “Luscious.”

  She shot him a coquettish look over her shoulder then leaned over and picked up her purse.

  “Oh, sweet, don’t do that.”

  She frowned as she took her cellphone out of her purse. “Do what?”

  A lustful look glowed in his eyes. “Bend over like that. I can see the soft lips of your cunt.”

  She smiled and looked at the cell phone’s display. Her mother’s name and number. Coldness swept through her. She was tempted not to answer it. Carlotta had, after all, basically thrown her and Tristan out of her house.

  But it might be something important.

  Sighing, she pressed the talk button. “Hello?”

  “Lydia? Is that you?”

  “Yes, Mother. Who else would it be?”

  “I can hardly hear you on this thing.”

  “What do you want, Mother?”

  “Douglas just called. Tiffany is pregnant. I’m going to be a grandmother.”

  That cold sensation was now an arctic blast. Lydia instinctively pressed her hand against her stomach. “I don't want to spoil your fun, but Douglas isn’t your son. He’s your ex son-in-law. Therefore, that doesn’t make his child your—”

  “Really, Lydia. Do you expect me to forget about Douglas just because you were foolish enough to let him go? He’s always been like a son to me. And it’s not like you’re ever going to give me any grandchildren, is it?”

  “Mother, you know why that is. I’m—”

  “Don’t start in with that. You didn’t have any children because you didn’t want any. Why won’t you just admit it?”

  Lydia’s throat tightened with the old, familiar pain. She glanced at Tristan. His eyes were locked on hers. He made as if to get up from the bed, but she waved her hand at him to stay. She would deal with this as she’d always dealt with it. Alone. Douglas had always sided with her mother.

  “I did want children. Very much so.”

  “If you had wanted children you would have had them. Period. I know Douglas isn’t my son. I’m not an idiot. But he’s as close to a son as I’ll ever have and you’re certainly never going to give me any grandchildren. You’re too selfish to want children.”

  The threat of tears stung Lydia’s eyes. “Mother, I’m going.”

  “Going? Where? Aren’t you at home?”

  “It’s none of your business where I am. I’m not a child.”

  “You’re with him, aren’t you?” Carlotta’s voice hardened. “Have you no shame?”

  “I thought we’d already determined that I don’t.”

  “It concerns me. You're being with someone like him. I don't trust him. And you were never very smart when it came to trusting people. You have no idea what kind of a—”

  Lydia pressed the phone off.

  Tristan was off the bed now and coming towards her. She turned away from him, but he put his arms around her, his lips pressed against her hair. “Lydia, sweet.”

  She pulled away from him. “No, don’t.”

  He moved up behind her but didn’t touch her. “I know it hurts.”

  She turned around and glared at him. He was young. What did he know of real pain? “You don’t know. You can’t.”

  “But I do. I know what it’s like to feel a pain so deep you wonder if you’ll ever be able to draw breath again. But trust me. The pain will pass.”

  “Will it?” She sniffed then rubbed her nose. “She thinks it’s my fault. She’s always thought it was my fault.” She looked up at him. There was no use pretending anymore. “But I can’t. I’ve tried. I can’t get pregnant. I’m barren.”

  She willed herself not to cry, but the tears came anyway. Tristan pulled her into his arms. She pressed her face against his chest and she cried. Long and hard. She cried like she hadn’t in years. The last time she’d cried this hard had been the day her father died.

  Tristan held her as she wept, his heart beating strongly, comfortingly against her ear, his arms warm and steady around her.

  When her tears were finally spent, she wiped at her wet face, painfully aware it was probably red and swollen and ugly.

  “Feel better?” he asked.

  “Yes. Guess there’s nothing like a good crying jag for what ails you.” She shook her head. “I’m so pathetic.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m not a child. And yet she never fails to make me feel like one. My god, I’m almost forty years old!”

  Tristan smiled and cupped her face. “Parents have a way of making us all feel like children no matter how old we are.”

  “Is it that way with your parents?”

  “Was?”

  “What?”

  “Past tense. My parents are no longer alive.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “Don’t be. It happened a long time ago.”

  He must have been a child when he lost them. She wanted to ask him more about it, but he looked uncomfortable. The memory must be painful for him.

  She pressed her fingers around his arms. “Thank you.”

  He smiled and the darkness that had shrouded his eyes fled. “For what, sweet?”

  “For being here.”

  He stroked her cheek. “I’ll be here for as long as you want me.”

  “You don’t have to say that.”

  “Say what?”

  “You don’t have to pretend that what we have is more than what it is.”

  He frowned. “And what is it that we have exactly?”

  She gestured towards the rumpled sheets of her bed.

  “Sex?” he asked.

  She nodded. “I’m not expecting any more than that. I like being with you but you don’t have to act as if—”

  “Do you want more?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Do you want to be with me?”

  “Yes, I like being with you.”

  He shook his head. “No, Lydia, I don’t mean like that. Do you want to be with me?”

  “Like in... all the time?”

  He smiled. “Yes, like in that.”

  “I don’t know. I mean, we’ve only just met and I....”

  “You’re still not able to trust me completely, are
you?”

  She nodded. She wasn’t going to lie. She didn’t know if she’d ever be able to trust him. That’s why it just seemed safer to make it about sex. If she were to want more, as he suggested, that would mean she’d have to trust more. She wasn’t able to do that.

  “Fair enough,” he said. “You’re going to discover that I’m very patient. But until you do finally trust me enough to give me what I want, can you do something for me?”

  “Yes, of course. What?”

  He grinned. “Get back on the bed and spread your legs.”

  She smiled. She could do that well enough. But as he took her hand and led her back over to the bed, she told herself that despite his seemingly wanting more from her than just sex, she wasn’t going to let herself expect any more than that from their relationship.

  He lowered her onto the bed. Gripping her wrists, he slid smoothly inside her, his hard cock moving between the lips of her pussy, his warm mouth sucking wetly around one of her breasts.

  She gasped then softly moaned as he sucked harder at her swollen nipple, his cock beating steadily inside her, his thrusts coming faster and faster until she shattered in a glittering frenzy of ecstasy.

  Lydia blissfully closed her eyes, the tremors of her orgasm rippling through her like sun-warmed silk. Oh, yes, he could have her pussy whenever he wanted it. She liked the sex. She most definitely liked the sex.

  But she wasn’t ready to give him more than that.

  He continued to suck lustily at her breast, his stiff cock gliding in and out of her cunt.

  She sighed softly. At least not yet.

  Chapter Ten

  Lydia lazily stretched across the rumpled sheets of her bed. Tristan had left a half hour ago, but her nipples still ached from his having bit, licked and sucked them all night, and her pussy was still raw from his having lustily thrust his cock within it as he had fucked her.

  Over and over and over.

  His stamina was incredible, his need for sex insatiable, and his desire for her had not diminished over the past few weeks. In fact his wanting to have sex with her had grown so strong that she’d honestly feared that at her age she would not be able to keep up with him.