Climax

Home > Romance > Climax > Page 8
Climax Page 8

by Lauren Smith


  She and Tristan left the ice rink and drove back to Fox Hill. Whitney was there to meet them, smiling a little as he took their coats.

  “The frosting has dried, which means the cookies are ready for you and the young lady.”

  “Thank you, Whitney. Happy Christmas.” Tristan shook the butler’s hand before he led Kat to the kitchen.

  “Why don’t you get dessert and I’ll fetch the presents,” he said. “Do you remember the room opposite the billiard room? That’s the TV room. I’ll meet you there.”

  “Okay. My present for you is in my duffle,” Kat called as he started to vanish through the doorway, her smile fading a little as he turned away. After he was gone, she leaned back against the counter and struggled to deal with the rising sorrow.

  We have only a few more precious hours. And I’m going to make it count.

  Chapter 10

  Tristan held two small wrapped parcels as he strode down the hall toward the TV room

  He found her nestled on the couch with two small plates of cookies in her hands. A fire roared in the redbrick fireplace. The scene was welcoming, homey, and with Kat sitting there waiting for him, he was having trouble walking due to his sudden state of arousal.

  “You look good enough to eat,” he murmured as he joined her on the couch.

  The soft, breathless laugh she gave warmed him inside. “Charmer.” She handed him his plate, then kissed him.

  “I’m your charmer.” He brushed the back of his knuckles over her cheek.

  They ate their cookies in a pleasant silence that fascinated him. She fascinated him. It wasn’t just the sex, although he’d told himself that at first. It was everything about her. Just sitting next to her on the couch and eating decadent chocolate, listening to the snap and crack of the logs in the hearth, was magical.

  “Let me take the dishes.” He rose from the couch and carried the plates to a nearby table. When he returned to the couch, he cuddled her against him and placed his present in her lap.

  “Go on, open it.” Tristan curled his arm around her shoulders as he watched her carefully unwrap the gift to reveal a small black velvet box. Her eyes lifted to his, questioning.

  “I know you don’t normally wear something like this, but I thought it might be worthy of an exception.”

  She bowed her head as she cracked open the box and her little gasp made his heart race. It had taken him a week to acquire this present. He’d hoped to win her back, to show her how much he believed in her, how much he adored her. It was supposed to be a promise of what their future could be. Butterflies and stained glass. Seemingly fragile, but outlasting everything.

  “Tristan…” She whispered his name, emotion breaking her voice slightly. Kat lifted her gift out of the box and held it up. It was a gold bracelet with seven charms hanging from the links. Each one was a tiny butterfly, their wings shimmering with the color of precious gemstones. The eighth charm was a small pendant carved with the Pembroke family crest.

  “I wanted to give you butterflies that would never die.” And a piece of me to take with you.

  When she turned to look at him, the bracelet clenched in her fist, he came undone at the expression in her eyes. There it was again. That look of a princess born in a garden who lived her life among the colorful blooms. Yet there was a sadness in her expression that tore at his heart. Their dreams would not come true.

  My dream. The haze of a growing pain spread in his chest. I won’t ever be able to have her in my life, not in the way I wish.

  “How are you so perfect?” she whispered, her words catching. “Why couldn’t you be someone I could live without?”

  Did she know she’d said that aloud?

  “I can only be me, Kat. And right now I’m the man who loves you.” His admission startled him, but his words were true, pure, no hesitation.

  I love her. I’ve loved her for as long as I’ve known her. How is that even possible?

  “You love me?” Tears clung to her lashes.

  He nodded, his throat tight as he swallowed a flood of emotions.

  “Oh, Tristan, this is awful!” she cried out, and buried her face in his chest, her arms curled around his neck as she wept. The sound of Kat’s sobs tore him apart.

  “Awful?” Too stunned to do anything else, he simply held her as she sobbed.

  “Yes,” she whispered. “I love you, too. Why can’t the world just let us be?”

  “Because life is a cruel mistress.” He knew that better than most, wishing with every breath in his body he could take her pain into himself and endure it for her.

  When Kat dried her eyes and looked at him again, a false smile stretched her lips.

  “You need to open your present.” She handed him her own wrapped package. “I thought about buying you a map, but when I saw this…I thought it would be better than a hundred maps.”

  His hands shook as he ripped the red shiny paper away to reveal an antique rosewood box. When he opened the lid, his heart skipped a beat. A brass nautical compass sat inside. The arrow continued to point north as he rotated the box slightly.

  “I want you to always find your way in life, Tristan. Your dad isn’t going to make things any easier on you, and I wanted you to remember that only you can live your life. Maybe it will keep you heading to your true north.” She cupped his cheeks. Her hands were so warm, and they trembled against his face.

  “I won’t ever stop loving you, Kat. Tell me you believe me.” He needed to hear her say it. All this time, his reputation had kept her on edge, and it’d cost them so much. All he wanted now was for her to hear the truth and believe him.

  She nodded, eyes glimmering. “I believe you. I love you, too. I’ve never been in love before, but I know that’s what this pain is inside me.” She laughed a little, but the sound was hollow. “From the moment I saw you that night in the pub, I’ve been under a strange and wondrous spell. A love spell. No matter what happens tomorrow or years from now, my heart is yours.” Kat placed his hand against her chest above her heart and swallowed thickly.

  So this is what it feels like to love something and lose it forever?

  “Make love to me, Tristan. Make me forget everything but us.” She lifted his hand and kissed his palm.

  That silent desperation lurked under his skin again, rippling through him as he sought to quell the rising anger and panic at the thought of losing Kat. He rose from the couch and shut the door to the TV room, sealing them in. Then he pointed to the thick white rug by the fire. Kat left the couch and stood on the carpet.

  There was so much about tonight he wanted to savor, to permanently press into his memory so he could never forget it.

  She slipped out of her boots and socks, and when she started to lift her sweater up, Tristan caught her hands and took over the task himself, pulling it off her. Kat shivered as the cool air hit her bare skin and her nipples puckered against the white cotton bra she wore. How something so sweet and modest could affect him so strongly was a mystery.

  She seemed to realize he wanted to undress her and made no move to do the rest on her own. Tristan knelt on one knee as he pulled her jeans down and she stepped out of them. His face was level with her navel, and he couldn’t resist kissing the slight curve of her belly.

  Her hands fluttered before settling in his hair as he kissed her skin. She was warm and soft, and that sweet feminine scent that was all Kat sent an aching hunger through his very bones.

  All we have is tonight.

  It will never be enough.

  Slowly, he hooked his fingers in the lace edge of her panties and tugged them down, baring her sex. He smoothed his hands up her calves, her thighs, and then he grasped her full bare bottom, squeezing gently.

  “Tristan, I want you naked.” Her words were breathless, and excitement glittered in her eyes. She was an open book, his to read, to memorize, to live with, at least for one more night.

  He stood and reached around behind her to unfasten her bra. She caught the cups before they
fell and raised one delicate brow in challenge.

  “Your turn, Kingsley.” She’d never called him that before, but he liked it.

  “As you wish,” he replied smoothly, and her lashes fluttered. He knew she loved his voice. He wasn’t about to forget something that turned her on.

  Kat reached for a few pillows from the couch and sat down by the fire while he stripped out of his clothes. The moment he was naked, he came toward her, slow, deliberate, letting no part of tonight escape his memory. Her hair curled slightly at the ends and kissed the tops of her breasts as she tossed the bra away and scooted back on the carpet to lie against the pillows. He crawled up her body, kissing and nuzzling every inch of her skin. He took his time, savoring her taste and the way little strokes of his fingers along her sensitive skin made her shiver and her breath quicken. He wanted to be inside her, but he didn’t want to rush this either. Kat met his gaze, her eyes full of understanding. She needed this slow, too. There was still so much he wanted to tell her, to ask her, to know before they had to…He banished the thought before the stinging pain could set in and lowered his lips to hers.

  The kiss was tender at first, delicate and sweet, but then it deepened as the fire between them ignited. He cupped her face with one hand, brushing his thumb over her cheekbone as he possessed her lips, drinking in her sweet taste. A heady sense of wild joy mixed with a hungry desperation overrode his control. This wasn’t just sex. He’d been a fool to ever think what lay between him and Kat could be so simple. No, this was a thing of infinite wonder, the greatest gift he could ever have. A woman who loved him, even the shadows in his heart.

  “Tristan, you don’t need to be gentle with me. I want you. Be my bad-boy Brit.” Kat teased him with a little smile.

  Despite the ache in his chest, his cock hardened further and his arousal spiked. “You want bad? That I can do, darling. Wait here.” He leaped up, completely naked, and ducked out of the TV room wearing nothing but a blanket around his hips. Whitney had better not see him like this; he didn’t want to have to explain.

  He got to his room and dug around the top drawer of his nightstand, grabbing a few items he knew Kat had never experienced. Chuckling, he hastened back down the stairs and to the TV room. She was still lying there on the carpet, body gloriously bare for his gaze. The peaks of her breasts, the full hips, and curvy muscled legs. A goddess.

  He held up the items he’d brought: a bullet vibrator and a pair of leather handcuffs lined with fur.

  Her eyes widened and she stared at the cuffs and licked her lips. “You weren’t kidding about the toys.”

  Tristan walked over to her, dropped the blanket, and knelt in front of her. “I never kid about sex toys, darling. Wrists,” he demanded with a low growl.

  When she hesitated the barest second, he arched a brow. “You cheated when you caught me skating tonight. I believe that entitles me to play the master tonight. Wrists,” he repeated. His heart was pounding with excitement as she surrendered her hands and he placed the cuffs around her wrists.

  “Good. Now lie back and reach over your head to grab the leg of the couch. You’re not to let go, no matter what I do,” he ordered.

  “Mmm-kay,” she murmured, her face a little red, and he could see by the way she was breathing faster that she was nervous.

  “You trust me?” Tristan cupped her chin and forced her to meet his gaze.

  “Yes.” There was no hesitation as she did as he asked.

  The position of her body left her bare to him and anything he wanted to do to her. Pressing his palms on the insides of her knees, he urged her to open her thighs. When she did, he turned on the small bullet vibrator and slipped it inside her.

  “Oh!” Kat gasped and wriggled.

  Tristan pressed her legs open wider and settled his upper body between her legs so he could press kisses to her mound and work his way down to her clit. The light whir of the vibrator hummed as he got closer, and Kat’s legs trembled against his biceps. Her cuffed hands started to lift away from the couch.

  He smacked the side of her arse lightly. “Put them back,” he growled.

  With a frustrated whimper, she dropped her hands back to the ground above her head, curling her fingers in a white-knuckled grip against the furniture leg.

  To reward her, he fastened his lips around her clit and sucked on the sensitive bud. She cried out, wriggling at the overwhelming need to get away and get closer at the same time. The stimulation was too much, and he knew this was the first time she’d ever played a game like this.

  “Come for me, beautiful.” His command was followed by Kat’s entire body jerking beneath him as an orgasm swept through her. It was a thing of beauty, to watch her come apart, the way a dozen emotions from surprise, to joy, then to delighted exhaustion passed over her features as she went limp. From her little nose, which was slightly upturned at the end, down to her pale-pink lips curving in a dazed smile, it all fascinated him.

  I’ll never get enough of her.

  He carefully removed the bullet and turned it off. Then he removed the leather cuffs and massaged her wrists.

  “Ready for me?” he asked in his voice gruff. If he couldn’t get inside her soon, he was going to go mad. His cock was painfully hard, and every muscle in his body was aching for release.

  “Yeah.” Her breathless reply was all he needed.

  Tristan rolled her onto her back, and she parted her legs further. When he slid inside her, that dark heat surrounded him, making him feel a thousand explosions of pleasure both physical and emotional. Their breaths mingled as they moved together, slow at first, the rhythm tender. But desperation and raw passion overtook them, sweeping them away.

  He clasped her hands in his and pinned them on either side of her head as he thrust inside her. Kat lifted her chin, and he saw glints of light spark in her eyes as she started to come undone.

  The sight brought him to the edge, but it wasn’t until she whispered, “I love you,” that he launched over into the rush of pure ecstasy.

  Her name escaped his lips in a soft cry, and he buried his face in her neck afterward.

  Bodies trembling, they clung to each other.

  “What’s your favorite childhood memory?” she asked, her voice gentle.

  He stroked a hand along her outer leg, tracing patterns on her flesh, making her shiver.

  “My favorite memory?” He considered the question. A spark of recollection, one sharp and almost painful, dug into the deepest part of his heart.

  “Yes.” Kat threaded her fingers through his hair, soothing him in ways she’d never know.

  It took him a moment to catch his breath, to find the words.

  “My father took me to Kensington Gardens when I was five. Just the two of us. That was years before the divorce…” That day flooded back, his father chasing him around the base of the Peter Pan statue. There had been a single moment when the sun had caught the edge of Peter’s flute and Tristan had cried out.

  “Papa, a fairy, look!”

  And his father had caught him in his arms, laughed, and ruffled a hand through Tristan’s hair. “So London still has some magic, eh?”

  That was the memory he held on to, the man who dared to believe life still held some magic and mystery, that not all of life was full of disappointments. But something had changed in his father when Tristan had turned thirteen. Carter’s mother had died, and the house was so heavy with grief that even Edward was affected. His parents divorced not long after, and his father had lost that last bit of humanity that had made him likable. Tristan hadn’t given this change much thought, but now it stirred at the back of his mind, worrying him a little. What had changed his father into the hard-hearted man?

  Tristan sighed. “He was a better man back then, not so cold. Distant, yes, but not cruel,” he told Kat as he settled a hand on her hip and met her gaze. “What about you?”

  She bit her lip, making him want to kiss her, but he needed his answer.

  “It’s when I was te
n, two years before Mom left. She was out running errands, and I snuck up to the attic and found her old wedding dress.” An unguarded smile curved her lips. “I don’t know how I got it on, but I did. She came home and found me wearing it. I thought she’d be mad, but instead she spent the next hour playing dress-up with me. We got out all her jewelry and we did our hair. It was a mess, but it was fun. We laughed so hard it made my stomach hurt.”

  Seeing the flash of bittersweet pain in her eyes called out to every instinct inside him to protect her. Losing her mother had hurt Kat so much. He still had his father in his life, but she’d been abandoned.

  Tristan lay beside her and pulled her flush to him. “Promise me you’ll always remember you deserve to be loved.” He twined a lock of her hair around his finger, focusing on her lips, then her eyes. “We are not our parents. We don’t carry those sins and burdens. We can choose to love. No matter what happens tomorrow, don’t ever forget that.”

  She nodded and pulled her head down to his.

  There beside the warm fire, Tristan fully surrendered his heart to the only woman he would ever love. It would all shatter come the dawn.

  But wasn’t that how love was supposed to be? A wondrous risk that not all hearts survived? And Kat was worth it.

  Chapter 11

  Kat couldn’t breathe. The moment had come to say good-bye.

  She and Tristan sat inside his car, parked in front of Lizzy’s town house. The air between them was charged with tension thick enough to fog the windows.

  They’d barely spoken since they’d left Cambridge earlier that morning. Part of her desperately wanted to believe this was all a dream and that they were still in bed, bodies entwined as they shared dreams.

  The time for dreams was over.

  “Tristan,” she whispered, his name scraping across her vocal chords.

  He furrowed his brow and clenched his jaw, his hands white-knuckled on the steering wheel.

 

‹ Prev