by Shelly Bell
He ran his fingers through her hair. “I’ve gotten used to having you sleep next to me. It’s going to feel strange sleeping alone.”
Only days after leaving the hospital, she’d moved into his apartment. The reminder of Chloe had been too strong in the dorm room, especially with her things there. And once the school’s administrators became aware of her relationship with Tristan, there was no reason to sneak around anymore.
She walked her hands up his chest. “I’ll just have to sneak into your room after everyone else has gone to sleep.”
He frowned. “No. You can’t do that. It’s disrespectful.”
She laughed and inched closer, feeling his erection against her pelvis. “It’s par for the course in my house. All my siblings have done it.” She wrapped her leg around his thigh and rubbed her pussy against him. “What my parents don’t know won’t hurt them.”
“But it might hurt you.” He tilted up her chin and playfully snagged her bottom lip between his teeth, gently biting down before releasing it.
Heat surged through her lower belly. She swiped her tongue along her lower lip, tasting the cinnamon he’d left behind.
“How’s the insulation in your house?” he murmured. “If I decide to spank and fuck that delicious ass of yours, is everyone going to be able to hear?”
Her pussy clenched and her clit pulsed. “I seem to remember my panties work wonders as a gag.” She dragged her hand down his torso. “So I was thinking…since Ryder and Dreama are both going to be at Easter dinner, maybe I could—”
His head fell back as she cupped his cock through his jeans. “I thought she was in a committed D/s relationship.”
She continued to torment him, enjoying their little power play. “That’s been over for ages. So what do you think? Should I try to fix up Ryder and Dreama?”
On a moan, he bucked up into her hand. “Ryder’s still obsessed with that woman he met on Mackinac Island.”
The night of Morgan’s murder, Ryder met a woman who pulled a Cinderella and disappeared on him. Naturally, Tristan loved to give Ryder shit about it. Not that he was one to talk. She’d done the same thing to him once upon a time.
“He still doesn’t know who she is?”
“Not a clue,” he said, reaching behind her to grab a cookie from out of the tin.
What the hell?
She took her hand off his cock. “Stop eating the cookies!”
His eyes heated with lust, and his voice went as thick as honey as he laid the cookie on the counter. “You offering me something sweeter to eat?” His quiet laugh, low and deep, heated her skin. He curled his hand around the back of her neck and tsked. “Talking ’bout our friends when you got my cock in your hand. Had to shut you up somehow.” With his free hand, he untied the drawstring of her plaid pajama pants, his fingers brushing the skin of her belly as he did it.
He could have all the cookies he wanted so long as he kept touching her. Teasing him was fun, but submitting to him was much more rewarding.
“Hop up on the counter, Angel,” he demanded, tugging her pants off her legs. “I’m hungry for your pussy.”
Said pussy was totally down with that idea.
He put his hands on her waist and hoisted her onto the counter. The surface felt cold underneath her fevered skin. As Tristan kneeled, she spread her legs open wide, the flesh between them quivering and wet.
On a loud groan, he yanked her toward him until most of her ass was hanging off the counter and threw her heels over his shoulders. He stared crudely at her pussy. “Nothing better than the taste of your pussy except for the taste of your pussy covered with your come.” He looked up at her as he inserted two thick fingers inside her channel and twisted, finding her G-spot with ease. “You gonna give me that?” His lips covered her clit and his tongue snaked across the swollen flesh of it.
Gah. This man.
Her head fell back as he rubbed that magical spot and ignited sparks deep inside her core. “Yes,” she managed to say, her voice coming out a bit breathless.
He lifted his head and removed his fingers. “Yes, who?”
Words? He wants words? She pushed her pussy toward his mouth. “Yes, Tristan.”
He smiled wickedly before his head descended. His tongue flicked over her sensitive bud teasingly, fanning the flames of the fire but not giving her enough to tip her over. Like a cat to a mouse, he was toying with her.
More, more, more.
Keeping one hand flat on the counter to support her weight, she sunk her other into his hair and tugged his mouth even closer. “Oh, don’t stop. Please.”
Submerged between the lips of her pussy, he raised his mouth just enough to mumble, “Yeah, Angel. Ride my face. Use it to make yourself come.” His hands moved to her hips and, without warning, he dragged her entire butt off the counter and planted her over his face.
Linking her hands behind his head, she shamelessly ground her pelvis on him. With the precision of a man who knew his woman well, he alternated between licking and nibbling her clit, the mix of pain and pleasure driving her arousal higher and higher. The stubble on his cheeks rubbed roughly on her inner labia and the point of his chin was inside of her, massaging her walls. As if she was the most delicious meal of his life, he grunted as he ate her, the vibration resonating throughout her pussy. The fire inside consumed her. All her muscles clenched in celebration as she reached her peak and exploded in toe-curling contractions.
She slid down his face, coming to rest against his chest. He lifted her into his arms and carried her into the other room, where he deposited her on the couch.
Legs curled under her, she watched her magnificent man undress. His biceps rippled as he whipped his shirt overhead to reveal the smooth golden skin of his chest. She followed his happy trail down, down, down to the bulge behind his jeans. With a snap and a pull of the zipper, he quickly removed his pants and stood before her completely naked, his engorged cock weeping at its tip.
Her mouth watered at the sight. Thank goodness she was now on birth control. She didn’t think she could wait one more second to have him inside her.
She tore off her shirt and cupped her breasts as an offering.
He didn’t hesitate to accept.
Sitting on the sofa, he tugged her onto his lap and reclined against the back cushion. He lifted her up and slowly fed her his cock, stretching her wide and not stopping until he completely filled her with his length.
In all these months, he’d never allowed her to be on top. She frowned, confused. Wouldn’t that mean she was in control?
As if he had read her mind, he winked. “Trust me. I want you to ride my cock, Angel.” Hands on her back, he leaned forward and captured a nipple between his teeth.
Pain flared first in her breast before spreading to her core. She moaned, driven to move, to increase the friction she needed to come again. She slid upward along his cock, but the sharpness of his bite kept her from rising as far as she wanted.
Now she understood. Even though she was on top, he remained in control.
Over and over, she lifted herself up and dropped herself down on his length, each time limited by his hold on her nipple. Her thighs trembled as she worked, sweat trickling down her neck.
She needed to go faster. Needed to lift higher and sink lower.
Turning off her mind and thoughts of pain, she let herself take what she needed, riding him almost to the tip before slamming herself down on his shaft. He didn’t release his bite. In fact, she’d swear he bit harder. But she didn’t care because the sharp pain in her nipple was worth the pleasure of his cock dragging along the sensitive walls of her inner channel.
Faster and faster she moved, creating the sweet friction she craved both inside and against her clit. Her pussy throbbed around him, squeezing him with every thrust as waves of pleasure crashed over her. Only seconds later, he pulsated inside of her, his cock twitching as hot come spurted from his tip, drenching her walls.
He let her nipple go and fell back
onto the couch, laying her on top of him. She sighed, totally relaxed, and listened to his racing heart under her ear.
These moments made all the struggles worth it.
A few minutes later, Tristan reached out and swiped an envelope off the coffee table. “Oh yeah. I forgot. A letter came for you from the Lancaster Business School.”
Ugh, probably another statement of account. Too comfortable where she was, she didn’t bother looking. “Just put it with the rest of the mail.”
He sat up, bringing her with him. A smile tugged at his lips. “I think you should open it, Angel.”
Frowning, she ripped open the envelope and read its contents. As soon as she saw the word congratulations, her heart began to race with excitement. “Oh my God. I got into the business administration program.” She stared up at Tristan. “But how? I didn’t even apply.”
“Professor Weaver recommended you, and the committee unanimously voted to admit you,” he said, taking her hands in his. “I’m so proud of you. In almost three years, you’ll graduate from the top business program in the state.”
It was what she’d wanted. She was thrilled. But at the same time, a lump in the form of unshed tears had lodged in her throat. Admission into the program meant spending three years apart from Tristan.
“We haven’t discussed what’s going to happen when you leave in June,” she said.
In addition to working his magic so that Isabella could remain in school, Dean Lancaster had also saved Tristan’s job. Using the argument that she and Tristan had begun their “relationship” before the start of the school year, the dean convinced the disciplinary board that the policy didn’t apply in their case. Tristan had merely received a verbal reprimand for his failure to disclose the relationship.
His brows furrowed. “Leave? Where am I going?”
“Back to the city. You have a company to run and grow. There’s no possible way you won’t get the financing you need now.”
He nodded. “That’s true. My credit score is up over one hundred points since August, and my loan officer assured me that Ryder and I will have no trouble getting the money for the expansion.” He paused. “We decided to forgo the bank loan and took a different direction.”
But the loan was the reason he had taken the job here. “What other direction?”
“Dean Lancaster has invested in Novateur in exchange for a third of the shares.”
“But I thought you didn’t want anyone else telling you how to run your business.”
Tristan shrugged. “He’s not just anyone. He’s family.”
She hugged him and kissed his cheek. “I’m so happy for you.” And she was. But the thought of not waking up with him every morning or falling asleep in his arms every night brought those tears in her throat to her eyes.
“Are you?” He brushed away a tear with his knuckle. “Then why are you crying?”
“They’re happy tears?”
“Happy tears,” he said slowly. “So, you’re happy that you and I will be separated by seven hundred miles?”
“Yes?”
His mouth screwed up into a grin. “Huh. That’s too bad, because I just signed a three-year contract with the university to teach all the Intro to Business classes.”
Her breath caught in her chest. “You’re not leaving?”
“Disappointed?”
How could she be disappointed when all her dreams were coming true? She kissed his cheek over and over. “You’re not leaving.”
The next thing she knew, he had a flat jewelry box in his hand. He must have gotten it from behind the couch cushion.
“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, Angel,” he said, a gleam in his eyes.
What was in that box?
She swallowed, her hands shaking. “I know that.”
He cupped her cheeks. “But I didn’t accept that contract for you. Coming here to Edison showed me there were things more important than money and success. I’d been wrong. I not only need a family, I already have one. Ryder is as close to me as any brother I could’ve had, and Isaac…well, he’s been more of a father to me than the one on my birth certificate. This town, this university, is a part of my family. I can’t walk away from it or the people I love.”
He removed the top of the box, but a dark fabric hid the contents underneath. “I could never leave you, Angel. Not for a day. My home is with you, wherever the road takes you. Your fight is my fight. So while you finish your degree, I agreed to teach. And I’m not doing that just for you. I enjoy teaching and giving back a little of what Isaac gave to me.”
Her pulse fluttered. “What about Ryder—?”
“He’s fine with it. We’ll make it work.” He lifted the fabric and gently raised the jewelry from the box. “There’s something else I’d like to discuss. I realize you’re not ready for marriage or children—”
She gasped at the sight of the beautiful silver necklace he held out to her.
“But I’m a possessive bastard. I want my mark on you.”
“I have your marks all over my body, you pervert,” she said, laughing and crying at the same time.
“No one else can see those marks. A ring is a sign of possession, the circle a symbol of eternity. And as much as I’d love that band on your finger, I decided to go another route. One that is just as precious, just as permanent, if not more so, as a ring.”
She tilted her head to the side, confused. “A necklace?”
“A collar,” he explained. “My collar. A sign of my ownership of you. Of our commitment to one another. I understand if it’s too—”
“It’s perfect.” She covered the hand holding the necklace with her own. “No one will know it’s a collar though. They’ll think it’s just a necklace.”
“I’ll know. And if anyone looks closely, they’ll see an engraving that says, ‘Property of Tristan Kelley. If lost, please return to owner.’”
She grabbed the necklace from his hand and looked for an engraving. “It does not.”
“No. But it is engraved.” He pointed to the tiny etching.
She could read it herself, but she wanted to hear it from him. “What does it really say?”
“My fight is your fight—Forever, Tristan.”
She lifted the hair off her shoulders. “Put it on for me?”
After hooking the silver around her neck, he ran his finger along the skin above the collar, his eyes glistening. “It’s even more beautiful than I imagined.”
She threw her arms around him and nestled into the crook of his neck. “So now that I’m wearing jewelry as sign that I belong to you, how will we show that you belong to me as well?”
He whispered into her ear. “You know the saying…”
“What?”
“If you like it, better put a ring on it.”
This man. This beautiful man. She’d follow him to the ends of the earth and back again, so what made him think she wouldn’t say yes if he asked her to marry him?
He was her destiny.
She peered up at him with a smile. “Let’s go shopping.”
About the Author
A sucker for a happy ending, Shelly Bell writes sensual romance and erotic thrillers. She began writing upon the insistence of her husband, who dragged her to the store and bought her a laptop. When she’s not working her day job, taking care of her family, or writing, you’ll find her reading the latest romance.
Learn more at:
ShellyBellBooks.com
Twitter @ShellyBell987
Facebook.com/ShellyBellBooks
Don’t miss the thrilling, suspenseful next installment of
Shelly Bell’s Forbidden Lovers series—featuring Ryder!
His to Claim
Available Spring 2018
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