by Penny Wylder
I brush my hand over his face, tracing the lines of his features. I love the signs of his laughter and the pure color of his green eyes. I love everything about him. “I wasn’t planning on saying that tonight,” I whisper. “It just slipped out.”
“I’m glad that you did. I’ve been dying to say it, but I didn’t know if you were ready to hear it.” He stands, lifting me up with ease, and I gasp. I haven’t gotten used to the fact that he can pick me up like a feather and just carry me. We’re almost to the stairs when I wrap my arms around his waist. “And I was going to offer to watch a movie with you before we skipped to the sex.”
“Fuck that,” I say, running my tongue along his neck.
Another rumbling chuckle. “I was planning on fucking you.”
“That’s also a good plan,” I say. “And I have a surprise for you.”
Tristan makes a questioning sound as he pushes the door to his bedroom open with his foot. “What’s that?”
“You’ll have to undress me to find out.”
I can hear the smile in his voice. “That’s definitely the kind of surprise that I like then.” He sits me down on the bed, and runs his hands down my ribs, finding the hem of my soft shirt. I lift my arms and let him pull it over my head, exposing the black, scrappy lingerie bodysuit that clings to my skin and disappears into my pants.
Tristan blows out a breath. The look on his face is every bit as perfect as I imagined that it would be. He consumes me with his eyes, and I have no doubt that he’s already doing deliciously dirty things to me in his mind. “That is a very good surprise.”
His voice heats me up, specifically between my legs. “Care to see the rest of it?” I hook my fingers into the waistband of my jeans and shimmy them off my hips and to the floor. Then I lean back and strike what I hope is a pinup pose on his bed.
The straps of this lingerie weave in and out of each other, gathering over my breasts and through my legs and leaving little else to the imagination. I take my hair down from where it’s pinned up and shake it out, meeting his eyes. Tristan is so hard that I can see it through his jeans, and my mouth waters just thinking about what he’s hiding in there. “You have too many clothes on,” I tell him.
He strips out of his shirt and dumps it on the floor. His abs are more lickable than the ice cream that we make, and I lean back off the bed, catching him by a belt loop and pulling him closer. I do exactly that. I place my lips to his skin and trace the lines of his abs with my tongue.
I truly must be out of my mind with love and lust because even the taste of his skin is good to me. He groans, sinking his fingers deep into my hair. God, I love that feeling. Tristan has strength in his hands and he knows how to use it.
“I don’t have any words,” he says, “for how hot and beautiful you are right now.”
“You don’t need any words,” I say, licking lower. “You just need to give me your cock.”
“Jesus,” he curses under his breath.
Slipping down onto my knees, I gaze up at him, thoroughly enjoying the sight of him towering over me. I undo his belt as quickly as I can and he helps shed is pants and boxer briefs so that he’s standing completely naked in front of me. Our encounters over the past week have been hurried and desperate, quick pleasure sought in dark corners under a time crunch. This is the first time I’ve had him fully naked since last week, and the first time I’ve been on my knees for him while naked.
I didn’t lie to Tristan. I’m not innocent. I’ve got friends who’ve been sexually active for way longer. I watch porn and I talk about blow jobs. And none of my friends seem to enjoy them that much. But I can’t ignore the fact that when I watch porn where a cock is down a woman’s throat, I come hard, or the fact that I like the sounds I can get Tristan to make when I touch him with my tongue.
There’s something powerful about being able to affect his pleasure like this. And I know I’m in the minority but I like the way he feels between my lips. I like the friction and sensation, and I even like that moment when he takes over and I’m not controlling anything at all.
“You know what I want tonight,” I tell him.
“I think you’re going to have to tell me,” he says, “because right now there’s absolutely no blood circulating in my brain.”
I smile and run my tongue along his shaft. “I want this. All of it. In my throat. And after you finish that, I want you to fuck me all night.”
A feral gleam appears in his eyes. “You really want that?”
“I do,” I say.
Tristan leans down and kisses me hard, tongue plunging deep into my mouth and rendering me speechless. “I love you,” he growls against my lips. I don’t have the chance to say it back. “Now open your mouth.”
It’s not a request, it’s an order. And a shiver runs down my spine. Exactly what I want—no room to question. His hands are still in my hair, and he tilts my head back so I can see him. Our gazes are locked, and I open my mouth. I can only watch his face as he thrusts his hips forward so he slips between my lips and deeper. Deeper still until we reach the point where we’ve gone before—touching my throat, ready to enter. I’m so fucking wet that this lingerie is going to be soaked.
Tristan holds my head absolutely still while he pulls back so he’s just resting against my lips. “Take a deep breath,” he says. “You’re going to need it.”
I obey, inhaling, and he pushes in again, all the way to the edge. But this time he doesn’t stop, slowly, steadily, pushing his way into my throat. The fingers in my hair tilt my head to help him slip in, and then he’s in. There’s briefly a feeling of needing to choke and force him out, but I have enough air, and as he pushes in farther that sensation fades to a comfortable fullness.
Fuck, I must be crazy because I love this feeling.
More. I want more.
A naughty thought enters my head, thinking about when he asked me what kind of porn I watch. I’m thinking about a video just like this, only the woman’s hands are tied, and I want that. Absolute helplessness while he takes my throat. And after I’ll fuck him until we both can’t speak anymore.
Tristan pulls back, and glances down at me as I heave in a breath, gasping for it after being deprived. “I have a trade for you.”
He chuckles. “You’re already doing enough for me, but let’s hear it.”
“I’ll show you one of the videos you wanted.”
Eyebrows disappear into my hairline. “In exchange for?”
I can feel my face and chest flush with heat, and for a second I think that I’m not going to be able to ask. But I open my mouth and force the words out. “Tie my hands.”
His smile is slow and wicked, and he steps away to the dresser across the room. “I’m well aware that this is a bit cliché,” he says, pulling out several ties from his drawer, “but on short notice, I think that they’ll work rather well.”
“Yes,” I breathe.
He kneels in front of me with one of the ties, leaning behind me. “After telling you that we know each other more than we think, I have to say that this is something that I didn’t know.”
“I…if you don’t want to do that I understand.”
Tristan gathers both of my wrists in one hand behind my back and wraps the smooth fabric around them, and again, tightening them together and tying it off. When I pull on them, I can’t move my hands apart, and my heartrate kicks up a notch and a fresh wave of wetness hits my pussy. Oh god.
He cups my face in his hand. “Of course I want to. You don’t ever have to be embarrassed with me about what you want. I told you that I wanted all your fantasies, and I do. I want you be able to live them. Feel them. With me.” His face goes from perfectly sympathetic to hard and dominant in a second. “Now open your mouth because we’re not finished.”
I didn’t tell him about the dominant nature of the movie I’m thinking of—I didn’t have to. He just seems to know. Taking a deep breath, I open my mouth again, and he drives his cock in, barely hesitating at the entrance
to my throat. He pulls me onto his cock until I think I can’t take anymore, but I’m so close to take it all. So close.
Tristan holds me there, mouth stretched around his cock, as my breath evaporates. On instinct I try to move my hands, and I can’t. Holy fuck. A wave of heat rolls through me. My nipples are so hard they might tear through my lingerie, and I’m dizzy with arousal.
He pulls back just in time to let me gasp for air, but only for a moment before he’s guiding my mouth back on him and thrusting deep. As soon as Tristan is in my throat, he’s fucking. A harsh rhythm that makes me close my eyes. Farther and farther he goes until I’m out of air, but he doesn’t stop there, holding himself still in my throat for as long as he dares before allowing me to breathe.
“I can’t describe how good at this you are,” he says.
And that’s all the time I have to catch my breath.
“Relax,” he says this time, easing in. “We’re going all the way.”
I consciously go as limp as I dare without falling over. Tristan’s cock is so long that I feel like it never ends as it slides inside to that point of no return. Further and further. My lips are stretched to the limit, and he’s still going. Until suddenly I feel it. The base of his cock is there in my mouth, nose pressed against his stomach. “Good girl,” Tristan says, though his words are more of a groan.
He releases me, and the world flares into fiery color again. I did it. I took all of him. And I’m going to do it again. I’m ready for him this time, and he pulls me onto him, holding my head still as he rocks his hips into me. If I were able to move my hands I’d be able to reach up and feel the hardness of him in my throat, but I can’t. I’m a captive here, at his mercy.
And god I fucking love it.
Tristan keeps me locked in place, fucking my throat with staccato strokes until my head is buzzing with the lack of oxygen. When he pulls back this time, I almost come from the cool air hitting my lungs.
He reaches behind me to untie my hands, and my voice is scratchy when I speak. “What are you doing?”
“I’m just going to move you around a little bit,” he says with a smirk.
I let him. He lays me on the bed with my head off the edge, and then the ties are in his hands again. In a flash both my hands are secured in front of me, and I’m once again unable to move. “You look so fucking hot,” he tells me. “I want to take some pictures while my cock is in your throat. I want you to see the bulge, and I want to remember this moment.”
“Yes,” I say. “Yes.” I’m beyond being able to form more complicated replies.
Tristan leans over me, running his hands along my body. He teases me between my legs for a moment, soaking his fingers and licking them clean. “I’m glad I’d already planned to have you for dessert,” he comments. “I’m looking forward to that.”
This position is completely different when he thrusts into my open mouth. But he doesn’t dive deep right away. “Suck.” The command is stark and brutal, and I suck on him as hard as I can, all the while hearing the tiny sound of pictures being taken on his phone.
When he pushes in further, I find that this angle is easier, and soon he’s in me to the hilt, holding himself still while he takes more pictures. God I want to see what this looks like.
Tristan runs a finger down my throat, emphasizing just how full it is. “I’m going to fuck your throat now,” he says softly. That velvet tone is dangerous, sexy, and it makes me shudder. “I’m not going to stop until I come, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me with your hands tied like that.”
He’s saying it to arouse me, and fucking hell is it working. Yanking himself back, he lets me breathe. “I haven’t decided if I’m going to come down your throat or across your perfect tits. What do you think?”
“Throat,” I gasp. “Yes.”
His hand reaches out and he spanks me lightly on my clit. Even through the lingerie it makes me jump and moan. “Do that a couple more times, and I’m going to come,” I say. I feel dizzy and perfect and through that sensation I hear him laugh. “I’ll keep that in mind. Now open.”
I do, and I’m both prepared and not. Tristan drives into my throat all the way to the balls, and continues to move in long, smooth thrusts. He’s fucking my mouth as if it were my pussy and this exactly what I wanted. Even as it’s happening, I’m blushing because I want it. But I’m too aroused to care.
A teasing finger draws over my clit through the fabric of the bodysuit, followed by a brief spank. I moan around his shaft, wiggling my hips and wanting more. Again, and again, until I’m almost screaming around the length of him, hips arching.
It’s the lightest touch that sends me over, just the trace of his finger, and suddenly my body is seizing with pleasure. He doesn’t release me while I come, continuing to thrust and take and I can’t control the writhing of my body under his hands.
When I land, limp and spent after coming harder than I ever thought I could, Tristan steps back and lets me breathe.
It seems even easier now when he enters my mouth again, relaxed from my orgasm. And he takes what he needs. Bracing himself on the bed, Tristan fucks. I hear his breath go ragged, and his rhythm falters when he’s close.
I’m dizzy and pleasured and all I want is for him to take what he needs.
Tristan curses loudly and thrusts deep one last time, spilling himself down my throat—so deep that I don’t even have to swallow. He groans as he drags himself out of me and lays down on the bed next to me. I feel the tie loosen, and my hands are free. And then I’m in his arms, crushed against his chest, and I sink into the sensation.
“You’re amazing,” he says, still breathing hard. I am too.
My voice is ragged. “Thanks.”
“And you have a video to show me.”
I try to laugh, but end up coughing. “Now?”
“Yes, now.” He grabs his phone. “We’re taking a breather, but I plan on having fun with you all night. And I want to see how close we got.”
“Pretty damn close,” I mutter as I take his phone and navigate to the video in question. I enlarge it, and Tristan takes the phone back as the erotic video plays. I thin blonde girl kneels naked, hands bound, as the faceless man fucks her throat. And even though that’s exactly what just happened to me, the sight still turns me on.
Tristan makes a low sound in his throat. “Is this what all your videos are like?”
I blush. “Not exactly like that.” Tucking my head down lower, I hide against his chest. In the moment it was hot, and I don’t regret it at all. But seeing him watching what I’ve watched while thinking of him is mortifying.
“Nicola,” Tristan says softly, and I can still hear the moans from the video. “Why are you hiding?”
“Feels easier.”
He leans away for a second and I hear him setting the phone down. “You don’t have to be embarrassed about this,” he says. “I know that you are, and that my saying it isn’t going to make you feel less embarrassed, but you don’t have to be. It’s seriously hot. And I like that you thought about me.”
“Really?” I know he’s telling the truth but I need the reassurance.
“Yes.” Tristan rolls over me, pinning me down with his body. When he’s naked like this it’s easy to feel how muscular he is, and the way he’s pressed up against me makes me want to kiss him and distract him from whatever he’s about to say. “Of course I’m fine with it. I’m relieved.”
I actually laugh. “You’re relieved that I watched porn while you were gone?”
“Yes,” he says, and he’s not laughing. “I feel guilty enough about leaving you for those years. If you hadn’t had any pleasure at all while waiting for me, I would feel that much guiltier.”
What Jill mentioned pops up into my mind, and I shove it away. That anxiety has no part of this moment. Trapping Tristan’s face between my hands, I look at him. “At some point you have to stop feeling guilty, Tristan. You said you had your reasons for leaving, and I believe you. I want to hea
r what they are, and I know you’ll tell me. Not tonight. But if you really want to be with me—for the rest of our lives—you have to stop acting out of guilt. We have to move past it.”
He smiles softly. “You’re right.”
“So forget about the past, even if it’s just for tonight,” I say, and then I smile. “And have your way with me.”
“I think I already had my way with you pretty thoroughly,” he says.
“Oh, do you?” I say as I run my hands through his hair. “Because last time I checked you fucked my throat, but I’m not done until I’ve had you all the way inside me.” I whisper that last in his ear, and I feel him growing hard between my legs. “Had enough of a break?”
“More than enough,” he says roughly, mouth crashing down on mine again. “You need to be naked.”
There are squirming and roaming hands, and it’s a struggle since neither of us want to stop touching each other, but he gets the bodysuit off me and tosses it away. I welcome the feeling of his skin on mine. He lifts my legs, helping me to bend my knees so they rest on either side of his torso.
Fitting himself against me, he slides in with a groan, letting his weight back down onto me. I’m pinned perfectly, spread open and filled and it feels luxurious and perfect.
This time it isn’t fucking. It’s not desperate and it’s not breaking the barrier of getting physical with each other and it’s not laced with the need to race toward an orgasm. This is what it means when people say that they make love. We love each other, and we move together. Slow. Rolling. Breath synced and eyes locked.
This pleasure is deeper, rising from nothing and consuming everything. We don’t stop moving together, every motion deliberate and synchronized until we come apart into one another. Tristan steals my breath and I steal his right back. I cling to his arms, shaking with pleasure while his cock jerks, pouring his heat into me.
We come back down together, and there are no words left to say other than whispers of ‘I love you.’ He tucks me against his chest again and wraps us up in the blanket. And for the first time in my life, I fall asleep with Tristan Swallows. There’s a settled peace in my chest, because I know that it won’t be the last time.