I wanted to ask about his mother. Her beautiful face had stayed in my mind since that first time I’d seen her in their family portrait, but the way Tristan’s mouth always turned down slightly whenever his family was mentioned stopped me every time.

“I think it’s nice that it reminds you of her.”

Tristan stopped dancing and kissed me softly on the lips. “It doesn’t anymore. I heard it this afternoon in a store and realized it reminded me of you.”

“Me? But isn’t the song about how she feels after losing the one she loved?” I asked as a tiny lick of fear took hold of my heart. Was he breaking up with me?

He was silent for so long that I was sure the next words out of his mouth would be to tell me it was over. Bracing myself for the news, I held on to his forearms and waited, each second ticking by making my heart hurt.

I watched as his expression changed to one so serious that my breath caught in my throat, and then he said in a low voice, “No. It reminds me of you because that’s how I’d feel if I lost you. Nothing and no one compares to you, Nina.”

When he said things like that, my insides felt like molten lava. Never before had any man made me feel so wanted, so desired. His mouth covered mine in a kiss so deep and full of need that my legs buckled. Tristan caught me by the waist and pulled me hard against him, his stiff cock pressing against my body.

“See what you do to me? All the way home all I could think about was relaxing with you and now look. Obviously, my body knows something my brain doesn’t.”

“I did that, huh?” I asked with a grin as I ran my hand over the front of his suit pants, my body reacting to his excitement.

Leaning over, he nipped my earlobe and whispered, “Yeah, you did that. Turnabout’s fair play too.”

He lifted the little cotton skirt I wore and cupped my ass. Slipping his finger under my panties, he ran his fingertip up my already wet pussy, just grazing my throbbing clit. So skilled at knowing exactly how to tease me, he lingered there for just a moment before he moved away, making my body ache for his touch.

“Tristan, don’t make me wait,” I said with a moan as he stepped away from me to unknot his tie and slip it from around his neck.

“Don’t move,” he commanded, and I stood still watching him remove his black suit coat and begin to unbutton his white dress shirt.

I reached out to help him with the buttons, and he took another step back from me. “I told you not to move, Nina.”

Filling my gaze with the sight of his perfectly sculpted body, I watched as he finished with the buttons and slid out of his shirt. “Why won’t you let me help?” I asked, eager to feel his skin under my touch.

A look of unhappiness crossed his features for just a moment, like he didn’t enjoy me wanting him so much, but before I could ask if anything was wrong, his expression changed and he was that same incredibly sexy Tristan I couldn’t get enough of. He extended his hand, and I moved toward him, timidly touching the buckle of his belt as I stared up into his deep brown eyes.

“I so much want you to be happy, Nina,” he said in a low voice as I began to undo his belt and pants, his eyes searching for an answer to some unspoken question or doubt he had about us. Did he think I wasn’t happy?

His zipper slid open and all that stood between my hand and his cock was the cotton of his boxer briefs. Running my finger over the flat planes of his abdomen, I skimmed the tip of his cock. “I am happy, Tristan. Why wouldn’t I be?”

He left my question unanswered and tugged my skirt over my hips, along with my panties as I stroked him from base to tip. Lifting my T-shirt up over my head, he moaned my name, telling me how much he wanted me.

I hurried out of my bra and followed him to the sofa, straddling him as he pulled me down on top of him. With one long thrust, he slid into me until there was nothing separating us. He held me still so he remained deep inside me, pushing on my hips as he kissed me hard. I wanted to move, to ride him until I came so hard my thighs shook, but I couldn’t budge. I didn’t think I could want him more, but somehow not being able to feel him moving in and out of my body made me almost desperate for him.

“Tristan, don’t make me beg,” I whispered into his ear. “You’re driving me crazy.”

“So impatient. If I move my hands, are you going to move?”

I looked into those eyes and saw he wanted me as much as I wanted him. I just couldn’t understand why he didn’t want to admit it then. “I’m going to ride your cock like it’s never been ridden and fuck you like I know you want.”

With anyone else, I would’ve been embarrassed to say those words, but with Tristan, I felt nothing but the desire to make him happy. Maybe that was why he always seemed to be so interested in my happiness—because he wanted to be happy too. I wanted to be the woman who gave him that.




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