Without a word, Tristan reaches under my thighs and lifts me up. My legs automatically wrap around his waist, our kiss never breaking. He turns and walks us to his bedroom.
As soon as we’re in his room, he closes the door and presses me against it. I tighten my arms around his neck and angle my head, begging for him to deepen the kiss.
He does. With one hand now fisted in my hair at the nape of my neck, he slides his tongue across mine and kisses me with an intensity that I feel in every nerve of my body. A small whimper escapes my lips.
His mouth leaves mine and starts trailing kisses down my neck, under my ear, across my collarbone. He reaches down to quickly pull my tank top over my head. He kisses the curve of my breasts, biting lightly, before taking a nipple in his mouth. I moan, my eyes closing as my head drops back to rest against the door. I bask in the delicious way that he sucks and nibbles first one, then the other. With every tug of his teeth, I can feel the ache between my legs grow.
Just as I’m about to beg him to end his torture, he lifts his head and crushes his lips against mine once more. I weave my fingers through his hair, holding his lips tight against mine. I feel him pull us away from the door.
He turns to lay me on the bed. The second his body is flush and heavy on mine, the tension seems to spike.
He groans as he grabs my waist and grinds his hips into mine. I feel his dick, hard and thick, press against my center, forcing another whimper from my lips. I grab the hem of his shirt and pull it over his head, desperate to feel his skin against mine.
His weight settles back on top of me, and he kisses me again, flexing as he holds himself above me. I wrap my arms around his waist and run my fingers over his back, his hips, his sides, entranced by the smooth skin and ripples of muscle. I wriggle my hips underneath him, silently begging for more contact.
He growls and starts kissing down my body. He sucks my nipples hard enough to make me groan, then continues further down, leaving wet kisses across my stomach and causing a hard shiver to run through my body at his sensual touch. Without a word, he pulls my sweatpants and panties off.
He spreads my legs wide. He kisses the inside of my knee before slowly trailing kisses closer to my core—never looking up at me, his eyes too focused on the invitation in front of him.
I gasp and arch off the bed at the first swipe of his tongue.
He drops his forearm across my stomach to push me back down. His other hand wraps around my thigh as he anchors me in place, making me a slave to the pleasure that he’s swirling around his tongue. He sucks on my clit before flicking it quickly, alternating the motions as my legs start to tremble.
I can feel the orgasm building under his mouth. I tangle my hands in his hair again, wanting to keep his head exactly where it is right now. It vaguely registers in my mind that I’m beginning to grind myself along his tongue, desperately trying to take my pleasure. I start to pant as I feel the sensations building.
When he sucks hard on my clit, my release explodes inside me. I gasp as the aftershocks roll through me, one right after the other.
His tongue slows as my body drops heavily to the bed. ‘Perfect,’ I hear him mutter with a kiss. I shudder, both from his touch to my oversensitive clit, and from the rush of pleasure at the tender gesture.
I tug his hair gently to bring him back up my body. He kisses me once before standing to peel the rest of his clothes off. I allow myself a moment to admire his naked body, mesmerized by the hard-earned muscles that look like they were chiseled from stone—that are just as effective as they are beautiful. My gaze travels over his chest and shoulder, at the black ink that reaches down to his elbow. I’ve always wanted to ask about the story that his tattoos tell.
I file that idea away for a future time because all conscious thought flies from my brain as he settles his weight on top of me. I moan happily at the feel of his heavy frame pushing me into the mattress. I cup his face and slide my tongue in his mouth, wanting to taste myself on him. He groans when I lightly suck on his tongue.
I can feel the tip of his dick pushing against my entrance. I want him to slide inside, to tamp down the desperate ache that needs to be filled. I wrap my arms and legs around him and silently beg him to enter me.
‘Fuck, Remy, you make me so goddamn crazy for you,’ he mutters. I can’t even find the energy to be surprised at that because right now I feel exactly the same way. I feel like I’m going to lose my mind if he doesn’t start fucking me soon. But he must sense my desperation because in the next breath he pushes inside. I gasp as he fills me completely.
He groans and buries his face in my neck. Then he starts to move.
I close my eyes to heighten the feeling of him fucking me. His thrusts are deep, and the pace is already building me to another orgasm. I scratch my nails down his back as my breaths start to come quicker.
Tristan lets out a deep groan. ‘I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of the feeling of your pussy squeezing me,’ he whispers as he slides his tongue in my mouth. I moan when I feel his dick pulse with his desperation.
Suddenly, Tristan flips us until I’m on top, straddling his hips. I brace my hands on his chest and blink at him, momentarily startled at the sudden change in position. But when I look down and see his eyes blazing with hunger, I immediately sigh and circle my hips. He digs his fingers into my thighs with a hiss.
I rise up on my knees before slowly dropping back down, relishing the feel of his hard length inside me. I repeat the motion and moan when he’s once again buried deep. Leaning my weight further forward into my hands braced on his chest, I increase the pace of my hips.
Tristan starts to drive into me, meeting each one of my motions with a thrust of his own. A whimper slips from my lips as I feel another orgasm start to build. Desperate for the release, I reach between my legs to touch myself.
‘That’s right, come for me,’ Tristan growls. “Let go. I wanna feel you come on my cock.” I moan and close my eyes, feeling too overwhelmed to watch him as he watches me. And when his dick hits the perfect spot inside me at the same time that my nail slides across my clit, the fireworks explode in my body.
I drop my head back with a gasp. The orgasm rolls through me, every muscle clenching and every nerve tingling.
I shudder when the sensations eventually abate. Just as my eyes finally open, Tristan sits up and weaves his fingers into my hair at the nape of my neck. He presses a hungry kiss to my lips. “You are the sexiest little thing when you come,” he growls against my mouth.
I wrap my arms around his neck, relishing the feel of our sweaty skin pressed together, and moan as he slides his tongue across mine. I love that I can feel how turned on he is through just a kiss.
Before I get a chance to start riding him, he flips us so that I’m on my back again. He doesn’t break the kiss as he starts thrusting into me.
I whimper at the overwhelming sensations and desperately grab at his arms. Between his soul-melting kiss and the feel of his pelvis hitting my overly sensitive clit, I feel like I’m coming apart at the seams. I’ve never been fucked like this and I don’t know how to handle it.
‘Tristan,’ I gasp. ‘It’s—it’s too much, I—I don’t think I can do it aga—oh my god.’ I moan as my back arches and my eyes roll back. He knows exactly which spot to drive into to ignite a fire in my body.
‘Fuck that,’ he growls as he straightens. He’s kneeling over me when he lifts one of my legs up on his shoulder and presses the other thigh flat against the bed. His pace never falters but the intensity of his thrusts increase with the new position. I gasp at how much deeper he feels.
‘Come on, baby,’ he groans. ‘Give me one more.’ He lifts my hips a fraction higher to drive even deeper, even harder. With the hand not flattening my thigh, he reaches up to pinch my nipple—hard.
I scream his name, yet another orgasm tearing through me.
My body tenses, light exploding behind my closed eyelids. I barely register the jerk of his hips as I struggle to keep any control over the convulsions racking my body. I don’t know how many times I moan his name before I feel my soul settle back in my body. Slowly, still in a daze, I blink my eyes open.
Tristan has thrown my leg off his shoulder and collapsed against me. His fingers lazily trail through my hair as he breathes deeply against my neck. He’s struggling to catch his breath.
I revel in the closeness for a moment while we both recover from our orgasms. I wrap my arms around his body and lightly run my nails up and down his back.
Eventually, he groans and raises himself up to lean on a forearm. He looks down at me with clear, assessing eyes. ‘You’re so much fun,’ he says with a grin.
I roll my eyes, trying to hide my smile, and lightly shove him off of me. But before I can do anything other than sit up, he grabs my arm and pulls me back on top of him.
‘Sleep here,’ he mutters, kissing the corner of my mouth.
I pull back in surprise. He wants me to sleep with him? Since when is that part of the Tristan FWB experience?
Noticing my shock, he rolls his eyes and tries to make light of the situation. ‘I know Jax’s bed is uncomfortable as fuck. I have no idea how he sleeps on that thing.’
I raise an eyebrow at him. ‘Why do you know what Jax’s bed is like?’ I ask, trying to contain the smile that wants so much to break free.
He growls at my implication and rolls over top of me. He grips my hip and nips at my jaw. ‘Don’t make me prove to you just how straight I am. Again.’
I giggle as I try to swat him away. He sighs and lies back, tugging me into his side and wrapping an arm around me. He pulls a blanket up to cover us. I rest my head on his chest and after a few moments, tentatively reach forward to trace the lines of his abs.
When I threaten to follow the lines of the V under the blanket, he shivers and interlocks his fingers with mine.
The silence between us is a comfortable one. He turns my hand to study the lines of my fingers, the callouses on my palm, the tattoo on my wrist.
‘Does this mean anything?’ he asks, gesturing to the tiny elephant inked into my skin.
‘I got it in Thailand,’ I smile, remembering that day fondly. It’s by far my favorite tattoo. ‘I got it to commemorate my trip. They did it by hand with a bamboo stick.’
‘Did that hurt more than a normal one?’ he asks, the surprise evident in his voice.
I shake my head. ‘Not really, it mostly hurt because it took longer. That would’ve taken five minutes with a machine, but by hand it took almost twenty.’ I pause, anticipating his next question. ‘And yes, I made sure they used a new stick. I actually watched them whittle it down. I don’t know why people think I’m stupid enough to let them recycle a bloody tattoo stick and risk getting an infection.’
He chuckles, and we revel in the silence for a few moments. But I’ve always been secretly enamored with the ink on his skin and can’t help asking about his. He’s got one stupid image on the inside of his bicep that I know he got when he turned eighteen, but the tattoos stretching over his shoulder and upper back are incredibly intricate and beautiful. I’ve gotten caught up staring at them at the gym more than once.
“Do you want to get any more?” I finally ask.
“Probably,” he shrugs. “I’m sure I’ll get the itch again. I’ve always wanted to get a full sleeve but I don’t want to have to wear long sleeved shirts if I end up working in a professional job after I retire. I might just stretch the one on my upper back to cover more of my back.”
I nod in understanding. Tattoos are becoming more and more accepted in the workplace but it’s still well-known that people without visible ink have a better shot at getting hired than those with it. It’s impressive that Tristan not only recognizes that, but sees its place in his future and plans for it.
I feel another surge of reverence for him.
“It’s probably better that way anyway,” I murmur, going back to tracing the ridges of his abs. “You would be way too hot with a full sleeve. Women would spontaneously combust around you.”
A laugh rumbles through his chest, and a warmth spreads through mine at the sound. I smile into his skin. I’ve spent so much time insulting him that I never realized how much I would love the sound of his joy.
‘You’re one to talk. What’s the tattoo on your ribs?’ he asks me.
I cringe. ‘A stupid young one,’ I respond. ‘I got it on my eighteenth birthday. I was super into Buddhism and decided I really needed the saying of a Buddhist tea ceremony permanently etched on me in Japanese. I can confirm it means what it’s supposed to, but it’s still a silly thing to get inked onto your skin.’
He laughs, probably understanding the pain of a stupid tattoo. ‘What does it say?’
I sigh. ‘It means ‘each moment, only once.’ Buddhists believe every tea ceremony should be treated like it’s the last time you’ll ever see that person.’ I frown as something occurs to me for the first time. ‘Basically, it means YOLO.’
A bark of surprised laughter bursts from him. I grin as I look up.
He holds my gaze as he starts to brush his fingers along my shoulder. ‘Can I see it?’ he asks me.
I swallow nervously, suddenly aware of the intimacy of this moment. But I nod.
He gives me space to turn over onto my other side. I pull a shaky breath into my lungs as I settle into the pillow, now facing away from him. I tug the blanket down to my hips and tuck my top hand under the pillow, exposing my ribs and side boob to his heated gaze.
Several seconds go by before he leans forward to trace the Japanese kanji characters running the length of my torso. I shiver at the feel of his touch and I’m sure he notices the goosebumps that appear. I marvel at how gently his fingers brush across my skin.
When he reaches the bottom of the characters, he starts the path back up again.
‘That… feels so nice,’ I sigh, basking in the heavenly sensation. ‘That’s better than a massage. And a lullaby.’
Sure enough, on his third path down the ink, my eyelids flutter closed. A soft moan escapes my lips at the amount of sheer contentment that I feel in this moment.
The next time he reaches the top of the tattoo, I vaguely register the feeling of his lips pressing against my shoulder before his fingers begin again. And although I drift to sleep with his skin brushing against me, it’s the feel of his soft lips that I dream of.
When I wake, Tristan’s room is pitch black and my bladder is about to burst.
I stifle my groan as I untangle myself first from the arm draped over my waist, then from the multiple sheets and blankets that Tristan pulled around us at some point. I slide off the bed and pad as quickly and as quietly as I can to the bathroom next door.
Sighing at the relief that comes from something as simple as peeing, I clean myself up and wash my hands. I smile when I feel the slight ache from last night.
I briefly debate sleeping the rest of the night in Jax’s room, but quickly decide that Tristan was right about his bed—it really is horrible. I’ll get much better sleep in Tristan’s bed.
Even my subconscious rolls its eyes at my ridiculous lie.
I quietly slip into Tristan’s room and try to get comfortable under the sheets without disturbing the bed too much. Eventually I settle on my side, facing away from the still-gloriously-naked man behind me.
Just as I’m drifting off to sleep, a heavy arm wraps around my waist and pulls me against a hard chest. I try not to yelp when I feel a very stiff erection press against my ass.
Tristan nuzzles into my neck, his breath tickling my ear. I glance behind me to see his eyes are still closed.
Instead of untangling myself and risking waking him up, I settle into the comfort of his body wrapped around me and close my eyes. Normally, I can fall asleep immediately.
Except, I don’t normally have a sex god pressing into my back, heating my body and distracting my mind.
I can’t help circling my hips any more than I can help how fast my heart is beating. A small moan escapes my lips as I arch my back and push my ass into the man behind me.
On my third repetition of that motion, I hear a sleepy growl sound in my ear as a hand latches onto my waist. I feel Tristan press himself tight against my back, his dick twitching between our bodies.
I circle my hips again, silently pleading.
Without a word, he reaches down and slides inside me. A heavy moan sounds from my throat as I close my eyes and arch harder, desperate to take in more of him. I’m completely wrapped in a carnal, lust-drunk spell. I automatically reach back to grip his muscled thigh, my nails digging into him as I spread my legs and invite him deeper.
I hear a deep growl in my ear as he grips my hip and starts pushing into me. There’s nothing slow or careful about his movements—he’s just fucking me as hard and as deep as he can. We’re both filled with the sudden primal need to possess our pleasure.
I whimper when he bites my shoulder. He pins me with his teeth and his hand on my hip, his hard thrusts never slowing. I feel the familiar ache of a growing orgasm deep in my belly.
With every thrust of Tristan behind me, I get closer and closer to my release. But just as I’m about to scream, Tristan presses me onto my stomach and flattens his weight on top of me, never once creating space between us or letting up on fucking me. I turn my head to the side and gasp at the feeling of him mounting me and taking what he wants.
With his teeth still pressed against my neck and his breath heavy in my ear, he braces himself on his forearm with one hand and arches my hips off the bed with the other. His movements are so carnal, so possessive, that I shatter without a second thought.
My scream is silent, caught in the sheets wrapped around us. As soon as my body starts shaking, I feel his hips lose their rhythm. The energy leaves our bodies at the same time.
He slumps against me with a groan. I’m too drained to even grumble about how he’s too heavy on top of me—I’m just trying to get air into my lungs.
After a moment he seems to realize that he’s crushing me. He rolls off of me with another groan, and I pout at the loss of his body heat.
I still haven’t moved from my deflated position when he returns from the bathroom. He climbs back into bed, pulling the blankets over us, and tugs me once again into his embrace. He slides one arm under my head and wraps the other around my waist. He nips my earlobe before settling into the pillows.
‘If that wasn’t the most exhausting orgasm I’ve ever experienced in my life, I would tell you that your tempting little body needs to stay on the other side of the bed for the rest of the night,’ he murmurs in my ear.
I laugh quietly as I wiggle against his groin in teasing. He growls and slaps my ass lightly, then wraps his arm around me again.
It only takes me a moment to fall back asleep.
