by Penny Wylder
My father’s eyes are burning with anger and emotion, but he stops pacing long enough to look me in the eyes and nod.
“I love Tristan.”
Dad scoffs, but I keep going.
“I’ve loved him for a long time. In fact, it’s the reason he left. On my eighteenth birthday I told him I loved him, and he left. I didn’t know about his father then, but I do now. And he is not his dad. You know that, or you wouldn’t have been his closest friend for your entire life.”
“Maybe I was wrong,” my father says. “Maybe he is like his dad, if he thinks this is okay.”
I roll my eyes. “You’re just saying that because you’re surprised. And angry. And I get why you feel that way and it’s totally fine that you feel that way. But you know that Tristan is a good man. The reason he left back then was because he wanted to make absolutely sure he didn’t repeat the past. But I’m an adult now, and I choose him. And he chooses me.” I turn my hand so the ring on my finger is visible. “We’re getting married.”
My father’s gaze is suddenly glued to my finger, but he says nothing. He’s in shock. I sense his presence before I see him. Tristan steps up beside me, wisely keeping his hands off me at this moment. Dad locks on him and his gaze begins to boil with anger.
Tristan just says, “Bruce.”
There’s a lot of history in that word. Years of confidences and pleading with him to know that he’s not his father’s son. That this is okay. “I love Nicola.”
The simple way he says the words makes my heart pound, and if that’s all he said then it would be enough for me, but he keeps going. “I loved her before I knew that’s what it was. But I wasn’t going to take any chances. I put time and distance between us so that we would know for sure and so that I wouldn’t repeat my family’s mistakes. But I couldn’t live with myself. I had to come back for her.” He takes a breath. “And if I had come back here and Nicola had told me she wasn’t interested anymore, then I would have accepted it. But…we’re happy.”
My dad turns and looks out the front doors of the hotel, and then back at us. He sighs. “I thought I was crazy.”
“What?” I ask.
“I thought there might be something between you. When he was at the house, when I saw you at the restaurant. Even that first day at the focus group I could feel something between you. And I ignored it because I didn’t think it was possible. But I believe you both. And I’m glad that I’m not crazy.”
Relief pours over me like rain. “Thank you.”
“This doesn’t mean it will be easy for me,” he says, as he pulls me into a hug.
“I know.”
When he pulls back he looks at Tristan, and slowly he extends his hand. They shake, but it ends up being a hug. A longer hug than mine and my dad’s. I like to think that there is some healing in it.
My dad stares at Tristan hard. “You’d better take care of her.”
“I swear on my life.”
Mom appears from the door and pulls me into a hug. “I’m speechless,” she says to me. “I’m happy and confused and all these different things. But you’re happy right?”
I blink back tears as I hug her. “You have no idea.”
She looks at me, gently arranging my hair in that way that mothers do. “I always wondered why you didn’t date anyone or seem interested. You were waiting for him to come back, weren’t you.” It’s not a question.
“Yeah, I was.”
“Then I’m happy for you,” she says, blinking back her own tears. “Give your father and me a little time. We’ll get used to the idea.”
“I know you will,” I say. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Tristan clears his throat. “Bruce, Valerie. Could I have a moment with Nicola? We’ll rejoin the party in a few minutes.”
“Of course,” my mom says, grabbing my dad’s hand. He looks more reluctant to leave us alone but he doesn’t resist my mother guiding him back into the ballroom.
The minute they disappear Tristan’s lips crash down on mine. “God you feel so fucking good.” He pulls me further into the dark lobby. “I’m happy it’s done. I want to be able to kiss you whenever you want.”
“Yes,” I breathe, but that’s not what’s happening right now.
“Where are we going?”
This hotel features a grand staircase in the main lobby, though the entire lobby is darkened and empty. There’s a little alcove behind and under the stairs where he pulls us, and spins me to face the wall. “We’re going right here.”
“Tristan, what—”
“You promised me that if you won I could do dirty things to you, and I’m collecting. I’ve been hard since I saw you walk through that door, and if I’m not inside your pussy in the next ten seconds I’m going to explode. Bend over.”
The command in his voice makes me obey. I place my hands on the wall and bend as he flips the skirt of my dress up over my ass. He groans. “You look so hot with that plug in your ass.”
I don’t even have time to think about the fact that we’re basically out in the open because I hear his zipper and then he’s slipping inside me and slamming hard. “Oh, fuck.” It’s the only words I can get out. The pent up tension from the night explodes through me and in only seconds I’m nearly there.
Tristan’s hands land on my hips, yanking me back onto his cock with the same force that he’s plunging with, and god, it feels so fucking good. He reaches around, long fingers finding my clit and I have to press my lips together to keep from crying out and having the echoes let everyone at the party know that we’re fucking.
The first wave of my orgasm spirals through me and I can’t even breathe, or see or speak or think—I just feel. The second wave bursts across my eyelids in a flash of color. Something about this angle with the wall and my high heels has Tristan hitting me exactly right, and I lose track of the waves of pleasure ricocheting around inside me.
I’m lost in that sea when Tristan comes deep inside me, grunting and holding himself flush against me while he savors his climax. “Fucking hell,” he says.
“I know.”
“What was that?”
I grin over my shoulder. “Chemistry. And high heels.”
He pulls out of me and tucks himself back inside the tuxedo. “The next time you wear those will be in bed,” he says, with utter seriousness. “And your feet will be near your head.”
I shiver as I stand, the fact that he spoke the truth earlier and that his cum is in fact dripping down my thighs is not lost on me. “Let’s get back to the party,” I say. “That went well enough that I don’t actually want my parents figuring out what just happened.”
Tristan’s grin is feral. “You sure about that?”
I blush. “Yes. I am sure about that.”
“Oh fine.” He takes my arm and loops it through his, stopping me just before we re-enter the doors. “But I have no problem with people knowing that you’re mine.”
“Down, caveman,” I say, laughing.
He smirks. “You like my caveman.”
“I really do.”
Every eye is on us as we walk back into the ballroom, but the stares are ‘what the hell just happened’ stares and not ‘oh my god they just fucked’ stares. Everyone is going to have questions and congratulations, and honestly I’m glad. It’s so much easier to face when I’m holding his hand.
Tristan weaves his hand through mine and lifts the back of my hand to his lips. “Ready?” he asks.
“Ready.”
Epilogue
Nicola
Six Months Later
Holding my cup of coffee in both hands, I peek through the curtains at Tristan. He’s on the balcony off our bedroom, reading a book. It’s still early in the morning and usually I’d be asleep, but the jitters have me awake.
The wedding is in three days, and even though Jill is a beast of a party planner and everything is completely under control, my brain is still dizzily spinning with all the possibilities
of things that can go wrong. And so I end up waking up early and get to observe my fiancé in one of his natural habitats.
I moved into his condo a few days after the gala. My parents were honestly more scandalized by that than the fact that we’re together in the first place, which made me laugh. But the transition has been mostly seamless and amazing. We fit well into each other’s lives, and the amount of incredibly loud sex we have makes me glad these condos don’t have connected walls. The neighbors would hate us.
I suppose it’s not just the wedding jitters that have me awake and drinking coffee at seven in the morning, it’s that I have nothing to do. My last day at Thompson’s Ice Cream was yesterday, since after our honeymoon I start at the new restaurant. Tristan followed through, the interviews went well, and it’s all on me to create the menu. My stomach flips just thinking about it.
One of the things that helped was that infernal orange and basil ice cream. Much to everyone’s surprise—including mine—it’s quickly become the best-selling flavor of ice cream that we’ve ever had and has helped launch into at least one new market. Tristan is working on a plan for the rest. Those sales numbers and that flavor combination went a long way toward landing me the job at the restaurant. And not once has Tristan ever taken credit for the fact that he put me on the right track for that flavor.
Wedding, restaurant, and the one other thing that I’m excited about and terrified about and have no idea how to process.
Outside, Tristan turns the page in the book that he’s reading, and I get distracted by his muscular forearm. God, you would think that after six months of constant sex and the fact that we’re about to get married would make it so that I don’t always want him. But that’s simply not the case. I want him all the time. Clearly, to the point where I can be turned on by him turning a page in a fucking book. I go over to his nightstand and grab a part of the surprise that I have for the morning. There are a couple different things.
As I walk, the butt plug I have in makes me incredibly aware that it’s there. We’ve been working our way up in size over the last six months, and now the plug I have inside me is nearly big enough. The final stretch will be Tristan’s cock. I made that decision, and today feels right. I need something to distract me and making my almost-husband’s fantasy come true is one thing that I can do. Quickly, I slip off my panties and shove them in the pocket of the hoodie.
I slide the door to the balcony open, and Tristan turns to look at me. When he does, his eyes go wide. Now I’m wearing nothing but his hoodie—the one that he let me borrow after ripping my shirt six months ago—and the plug. Granted, he can’t see that that’s all I’m wearing because his hoodie is so long, but he’ll find out soon enough. “Good morning, beautiful.”
“Morning.”
He smiles. “I didn’t know you were physically capable of being awake at this hour.”
“I’m usually not. But everything has my brain running and I couldn’t go back to sleep.” I place my cup of coffee next to his on the table and straddle his lap. The Adirondack chair he’s sitting in makes it a fun angle, tilting me into him.
Tristan pulls me against him kissing me too deeply for first thing in the morning. But that’s good. I’m hopeful he’ll be in the mood to do what I suggest. I can already feel him getting hard through the soft pajama pants that he’s wearing. “I’m not sure how you manage to make something as old and baggy as this fucking sexy, but you do.”
I bump my nose against his. “Apologize to the hoodie. It’s done a lot for you.”
“No,” he chuckles, “I won’t.”
Grabbing his hands, I place them on my thighs and guide them upward, and upward still, until together we reach the crease of my hips and he realizes that I have no panties on at all. He continues to explore, and when he finds the plug in my ass he goes entirely still for a moment, his cock pressing against me just where I need it through his pants. I rock my hips, causing just a little bit of friction, and he groans. “Okay fine, I apologize to the hoodie and thank it for bringing you out here naked underneath.”
“Very good.”
Tristan grazes his teeth over my earlobe. “How about I pull these pants down and make you come right here on this balcony?”
My nipples are rock hard under the hoodie and I’m growing wet. I wonder if he can feel that wetness through his pajama bottoms. “That’s what I had in mind, but maybe not the way you intended.” I pull the little bottle of lube out of the hoodie’s pocket and hold it up.
His eyes flare, and he raises an eyebrow. “You think you’re ready for that?”
“I think if the plugs get any bigger it’s going to be like taking you up the ass anyway.”
Tristan chuckles. “You’re going to have to try to keep quiet.”
“I brought something for that too,” I say, pulling the panties I was wearing out of the hoodie pocket.
“Baby,” Tristan says, “you’ve made my morning.”
I smile. “I was hoping that you would say that.”
Tristan takes my hand and pulls it inside the sleeve of the hoodie, and then he does the same with the other one. Then he ties the sleeves of the hoodie together and loops it over his neck, so I’m bound to him. It’s surprisingly effective, since the sleeves of this sweatshirt are tighter and I can’t just pull them out.
“Any last words?” he asks.
My heart is pounding with anticipation, and my body is showing it too. I’m already soaking. He’s going to find out soon enough. I shake my head no. He takes the panties and reaches underneath me, drawing them along my pussy before looking at me with that gaze that melts me down to nothing. “Open.”
I do, and he fills my mouth with the fabric, making sure that I can taste myself. It’s something that he loves, making me taste my own juices. It makes him hard, and honestly it just makes me wetter too, knowing how hot he finds it.
He pulls his cock from his pants and lifts me up slightly before lowering me down onto him. Stuffed the way I am with a plug that’s nearly as big as he is, having his cock in me too is like being split open in the best way, and already I’m moaning against the gag. All he does is chuckle. “It’s a good thing you brought those panties. I’ve turned you to an insatiable minx.”
I nod my head yes.
Slowly, he lets me sink down onto his cock. My pussy flutters around him trying to make sense of how this feels. It’s an entirely different sensation than I’m used to. He fucks me all the time with the plugs, but the big one is new and we’ve never done this before. I wasn’t planning on being bound and gagged, but Tristan knows me well, and the little bit of control he’s taking makes me shake.
Brushing his thumb over my clit, he smiles as I shudder. “How many times should I make you come this morning?” he asks, knowing full well that I can’t answer him. “Or maybe I shouldn’t let you come at all.”
I moan at that. We’ve done denial before, but three days before my wedding is not when I want to be doing that. He laughs softly again. “I’ll settle for holding you back until I say yes,” he circles my clit again and my eyes fall closed. With all the stimulation down there, it’s so sensitive that I could come just from him touching my clit like that.
Tristan lifts me just slightly so he can thrust upwards, and fiery pleasure bursts open inside. I let my head fall back, trying to hold back the loudest of my cries. We’re still outside, and panties aren’t exactly the most effective gags. The mood Tristan is in right now is one of my favorites. I would never tell him that in case it goes to his head, but the way he embodies this dominance is perfect. It makes me feel safe and understood and he always seems to know when that’s what I need.
Plus, when he’s like this, he takes his time. I usually end up with drawn out orgasms that have my muscles literally shaking. Right now is no exception. He’s thrusting up into me at a slow, almost casual pace, making sure that I’m stimulated but not taking me anywhere near close to coming. And because he has me lifted up, I have no leverage to make him
go faster. Instead I can only whimper.
“Hmmm,” he says. “You know what I think I need to hear this morning? I need to hear you beg.”
I look at him like he’s crazy. It’s not like I can talk, and he just emphasizes his point by driving deep, hard, and fast once before returning to his previous pace. “Go ahead and beg me to come, baby.”
I try to ask him please, and beg him through the gag. All it sounds like is gibberish. “Those are pretty sounds. Since you asked, I suppose you can.” He speeds up, thrusting in while running his fingers cover my clit. And in seconds it’s like the sun breaks over the horizon as a perfect orgasm washes up and over and through. I clench down on his cock, and he grits his teeth. He loves it when I do that because it feels good, and he hates it when I do that because he doesn’t last as long.
The pleasure lingers in me as I come down from the high of climax, and Tristan pulls the panties out of my mouth. “Good?”
“Good,” I say. Ready for more. I’m always ready for more when it comes to him.
“As fun as it would be to have you gagged your first time, I need you to be able to speak during this part.” He’s already reaching between us, taking out the plug and lubing up my ass. His cock is already slick from me. “Okay,” I say.
“Nervous?”
I nod. “A little.” But I trust him implicitly. Tristan would never hurt me on purpose. And even though I’ve been practicing with the plugs for months, nothing actually prepares me for the feeling of his cock against my ass. It is bigger, and god knows it’s longer. Hot and thick and I try to relax because I know that this is the only way it’s going to work.
“Easy,” he says.
I let my head fall forward against his shoulder. He slips a little deeper, entering inch by inch, and by some miracle I take him. It feels the same and different. Nerves I didn’t know existed are coming to life, and everything else is tingling with awareness and additional sensation.
“Nicola.” Tristan’s voice is ragged.