“Are you stockpiling toilet paper in case there’s another pandemic?” He stares at the pile of rolls under my dresser.
“I didn’t think you’d be back here tonight,” I huff. “Or I would have hidden those.” I have to hide them in my room because nobody replaces them but me. I’m sick of bankrolling their ass wipes.
I coax him away from the dresser to the centre of the room. If he looks closely, he’ll spot the premium bamboo rolls stolen from Madison Legal.
“The perils of a London house-share.” I shrug and let out a pathetic giggle. Standing here with Tristan Kane in my bedroom is turning me into a hot nervous mess.
When he draws himself up to his full six-foot-four height he knocks into the light fixture.
“And this isn’t your bed?” He hovers above it like it’s been dispatched from a nuclear power plant.
“No, the room came furnished,” I explain. “Only the armchair and the dresser are mine. Why?”
“Do you know how many people have had sex on this bed?”
I give him a withering look. “Sorry, I didn’t think to ask the estate agent.”
“No wonder you sleep in linen closets,” he mutters. “We don’t know how many people have used this bed. It’s like having sex in a brothel.”
“Hey!” I whack him against the chest. “I’ve got a mattress topper. That’s what renters do, we buy mattress toppers and don’t think about all the renters that came before us.” I roll my eyes. “Try to search within yourself to find a modicum of reality, will you? Have you forgotten how normal non-CEO people live?”
“Can we have sex standing up?”
“You are acting like the princess and the pea.” I glower, putting both hands on my hips. “And you are being very presumptuous. Who said I want to have sex with you, anyway?”
He smirks down at me. “Of course you do. I’ll get you so steamed up you’ll be begging for me to fuck you.”
That arrogant, infuriating, handsome face. He’s so confident in himself, so certain I’m a sure bet. It turns me on and annoys me in the same instant. I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of joining the million girls that beg Tristan Kane to fuck them.
“As if. I don’t beg men.”
His eyes blaze as he steps into my personal space. Wrapping his hands around my waist, he pulls me in and presses me against his groin, his hardness jutting against my stomach.
My core flutters with excitement. I was bluffing before.
Of course, I’m going to let him fuck me.
I reach up on my tiptoes, and he comes down to meet me, pressing his lips against mine.
“I’m making a big mistake,” I whisper into his mouth.
“Boss’s orders. I guess you have to do as you’re told.”
He reaches behind my back and unzips my dress so that it hangs loosely around my shoulders, then pushes it down past my waist, exposing my black lace bra. I step out of it, standing before him in only underwear.
He responds with a growl and unclips my bra, sliding the silk straps down my arms. “That’s much better,” he says gruffly.
His massive hands cup my breasts possessively and he dips his head down to pinch my nipple with his teeth.
I make a desperate little mewl and fumble with the top of his jeans.
“Not yet,” he growls. Before I know what he’s doing, he lifts me off the floor and walks us both to the bed.
My whole body trembles in anticipation as he lays me down on the bed. I’m so ready, it’s embarrassing.
Glancing around the room, he walks to the dresser and lifts two satin scarfs I bought to dress up my work outfits.
“You’re fully clothed,” I pant as he approaches the bed again.
“I’m the boss. My rules.” His eyes roam over my body from above.
I spread my legs, willing him to come on top of me.
A grunt falls from his lips in response. He gently takes my wrists, pinning them above my head, and ties each one to the bedpost with a scarf. Then, he pulls down my underwear and climbs on top of me, his large thighs inching open my legs.
I’m naked, exposed, and his for the taking.
Heat flares in his eyes. “Beautiful,” he breathes. He leans down, caging my body with his biceps as his mouth trails hot kisses down my collarbone.
I arch my back and push up my breasts.
He’s taking his sweet time. He kisses the top of my breasts then travels down at a tortuous pace to just above my nipple. My nipples are so hard it hurts.
His tongue circles my nipple, and I moan impatiently.
“Please,” I whisper, my heels digging into the bed.
Heat pools between my legs as his mouth finally engulfs my nipple. He goes from nipple to nipple, pinching and sucking. Then he’s on the move again. Slowly his mouth trails down past my belly button to my lower stomach. His mouth hovers just above my apex.
My core muscles clench.
Using his thumbs, he gently pulls apart my sensitive folds of flesh. A feral sound rumbles from his throat as his eyes devour my most intimate parts.
I’m a mix of aroused and embarrassed. He can see everything. I wriggle, trying to set my hands free but he has them tightly tied. He’s in control. His tongue pushes deep into my entrance.
I arch my hips into his face, crying out.
As his tongue thrusts in and out relentlessly, his thumb circles around my clit, teasing me faster and faster.
My toes curl, and my legs shake; the pressure is too much.
“Oh God, oh God, oh God,” I chant as he holds me in a firm grip, feasting on me. My head arches back towards the headboard.
“Elly,” he murmurs from between my legs. “I want you to watch.”
I look down and meet his eyes as his tongue flicks in and out of me. “There.” It comes out as a croak. “Yes. Exactly like that.” My legs thrash as the pleasure rips through me in violent shudders.
He looks up at me with a satisfied smirk.
He moves off the bed before I can recover and rips his clothes off then stands in front of me, naked.
It’s even better than I remember.
My hands stay tied to the bedpost. Tristan climbs back on top of me and pushes his knees between my legs so that I am spread wide apart.
“Damn,” he hisses. “Condom.”
“I’m on the pill.”
“Can I come inside you? I’m clean.”
I nod, thrusting my hips. I need skin on skin.
He slams his thick length into my opening. A low groan erupts from him, and it’s the sexiest damn sound I’ve ever heard.
I clench around his cock, my hands tightening around the bedposts, desperate for freedom so I can maul every inch of his body. “N-not f-fair,” I stutter.
A low chuckle is the only response I get. He thrusts in and out, holding my hips in place, my breasts jiggling with every thrust. “Elly.” He draws in a stuttered breath. “You feel so good.”
The slapping of our bodies gets louder, faster. Tristan’s face contorts in pleasure, and I know he’s close. Just watching him come to pieces is breaking me. Our moans mix together, his low and throaty, mine high-pitched and frantic.
With a final deep thrust, he lets out a shuddery breath, and he comes so hard I’m scared he’s never going to stop.
I cry out, feeling the warm liquid pulsing into me.
Trying to steady his breathing, he hovers on top of me, his elbows holding the weight of his broad chest.
I’m wet all down my inner thighs. We are sticky and sweaty, and I’ve never cared less.
“I guess hoarding toilet paper in your room does come in handy.” He grins, untying my hands from the silk handcuffs.
His inner thighs glisten as he climbs off the bed. I can’t keep my eyes off him.
“I was wondering…our first meeting in my office, you said that’s not all I took from you. What did you mean?” he asks as he gently wipes my legs.
“Nothing,” I say, brushing it off.
He frowns. “I want to know. Tell me.”
My cheeks begin to flame hotter. “I meant… I meant you were…are the only man to ever make me come,” I whisper.
He stops wiping and stares at me, alert. “Were you a virgin, Elly?”
“No. But I’m not exactly a sexpert, either. I’ve had a few sexual partners and one long-term boyfriend, and it just never happened,” I say, feeling self-conscious.
“What about after Greece?”
“I haven’t actually…” I fiddle with my fingers. “I mean, I haven’t…”
“You haven’t had sex since us?” he asks quietly.
“Not deliberately,” I say quickly. “Truth is, I haven’t met anyone these past few months that I wanted to have sex with.”
He looks at me for a long minute, discarding the tissue in the wastebasket. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t delighted.”
“I wasn’t saving myself for you,” I snap defensively. “It’s just that the nun-hood seemed better than some of the buffoons I’ve met.”
“Shush.” He trails a palm across my collarbone. “It’s too early to define this,” he says seriously. “I don’t want to hurt you, and we’re in different stages of our lives. I’m divorced, and my priority has to be my kid.”
I nod, pain twisting in my chest. I’m getting the brush-off.
“But I’d like to keep seeing you, Elly. To explore this.”
I bite my lip to contain the grin.
“If we see each other, we can’t see anyone else,” I say in a small, firm voice.
“As if I would want to.” He rolls the blankets down. “Come on, I don’t want you to be tired for your mum’s birthday. Is this a single bed?”
“No!” I say crossly. “It’s a double. Stop complaining, or you can sleep on the floor.”
“I suppose the smaller it is, the harder it is for you to escape,” he grumbles, climbing into the bed behind me. “What is this made from? Bamboo sticks?”
I hit his chest.
He wraps his body around mine, his strong arms pulling me flush against him. This man could win awards for his spooning.
***
“Who the fuck are you?” says Tristan in a low growl beside me.
I rub my eyes and peer out into the darkness.
What’s going on? Is it 5 a.m. already?
Feeling my way in the dark, I find the bedside lamp and switch it on.
I squint my eyes, adjusting to the light. There’s a girl hovering at the bottom of the bed. She claws at the duvet in an attempt to get under the covers.
“Someone has escaped from the looney bin,” Tristan yells, his voice thick with sleep. Both of us sit up topless in bed. “Is this one of your housemates?”
She sees us then releases a half giggle, half burp. Beer gas assaults me.
“This isn’t…” she slurs, swaying to imaginary music.
“He’s called Frank,” I say in a groggy voice, covering my bare breasts with the duvet.
Her glazed eyes give Tristan the once-over. “Oh.”
I’m momentarily distracted by Tristan’s naked muscular chest. “Not him,” I hiss. “The guy you went home with is Frank. Frank’s room is upstairs.”
“Get out of here,” Tristan snaps, catapulting out of bed.
Despite being saturated with alcohol up to her eyeballs, her jaw hangs slack as she takes in the well-endowed naked man. She stumbles backwards a few times. Finally, she gets the message that three is a crowd and zigzags towards the door. With the last of her motor skills, she yanks the door open and staggers out.
Tristan strides forward, closing the door.
“No way to lock it.” He pinches his eyes in confusion and moves a chest of drawers towards the door.
“It’s fine.” I wave my hand in the air, too tired to react further. “She won’t come back.”
“It’s not fine,” he barks. “I’ll get you a new rental tomorrow, Elly. This isn’t safe.”
“Stop being ridiculous.” I suppress a grin as he barricades us into the room. “If anything, you’re the one not safe from her, not me. Is that why you’re barricading us in?”
He ignores me. “I hope there’s a fire escape in this building. There should be, with this many bedrooms. Now we’re going to burn to a crisp because of some mad lady.”
“Where, Tristan? Did you see a slide or a pole?” I snort. I fling myself back down onto the bed, refusing to engage in this conversation. My phone says 3:30. My alarm will be going off in 1.5 hours.
“Having flatmates is worse than having children,” he mutters, climbing back into bed. “Coming into your room at all hours demanding attention.”
I shake my head. He may be a hotshot CEO, but he wouldn’t last a minute in a hostel.
He lies flat on his back taking up most of the bed. I climb on top of him. It’s either this position or curling into a small ball in the corner. His strong arms envelop me and he lets out a long sleepy sigh. I bury my face in his chest, listening to the rhythm of his heartbeat. Our bodies mesh together, warmth flowing from his body into mine. There is nothing more sexy or intimate than lying on top of a sleeping Tristan Kane and feeling every inch of his skin touch mine.
When his hand loosens from where it is intertwined in my hair and his breathing slows, I know he is asleep. And then I lie there, my breasts rising and falling on his chest, breathing in his musk and I wonder how I’m ever going to sleep bursting with this much happiness.
Somehow, after many minutes, maybe hours, I close my eyes and drift off to sleep, smiling.
