urged her to open her thighs. When she did, he turned on the small bullet vibrator and slipped it inside her.
“Oh!” Kat gasped and wriggled.
Tristan pressed her legs open wider and settled his upper body between her legs so he could press kisses to her mound and work his way down to her clit. The light whir of the vibrator hummed as he got closer, and Kat’s legs trembled against his biceps. Her cuffed hands started to lift away from the couch.
He smacked the side of her arse lightly. “Put them back,” he growled.
With a frustrated whimper, she dropped her hands back to the ground above her head, curling her fingers in a white-knuckled grip against the furniture leg.
To reward her, he fastened his lips around her clit and sucked on the sensitive bud. She cried out, wriggling at the overwhelming need to get away and get closer at the same time. The stimulation was too much, and he knew this was the first time she’d ever played a game like this.
“Come for me, beautiful.” His command was followed by Kat’s entire body jerking beneath him as an orgasm swept through her. It was a thing of beauty, to watch her come apart, the way a dozen emotions from surprise, to joy, then to delighted exhaustion passed over her features as she went limp. From her little nose, which was slightly upturned at the end, down to her pale-pink lips curving in a dazed smile, it all fascinated him.
I’ll never get enough of her .
He carefully removed the bullet and turned it off. Then he removed the leather cuffs and massaged her wrists.
“Ready for me?” he asked in his voice gruff. If he couldn’t get inside her soon, he was going to go mad. His cock was painfully hard, and every muscle in his body was aching for release.
“Yeah.” Her breathless reply was all he needed.
Tristan rolled her onto her back, and she parted her legs further. When he slid inside her, that dark heat surrounded him, making him feel a thousand explosions of pleasure both physical and emotional. Their breaths mingled as they moved together, slow at first, the rhythm tender. But desperation and raw passion overtook them, sweeping them away.
He clasped her hands in his and pinned them on either side of her head as he thrust inside her. Kat lifted her chin, and he saw glints of light spark in her eyes as she started to come undone.
The sight brought him to the edge, but it wasn’t until she whispered, “I love you,” that he launched over into the rush of pure ecstasy.
Her name escaped his lips in a soft cry, and he buried his face in her neck afterward.
Bodies trembling, they clung to each other.
“What’s your favorite childhood memory?” she asked, her voice gentle.
He stroked a hand along her outer leg, tracing patterns on her flesh, making her shiver.
“My favorite memory?” He considered the question. A spark of recollection, one sharp and almost painful, dug into the deepest part of his heart.
“Yes.” Kat threaded her fingers through his hair, soothing him in ways she’d never know.
It took him a moment to catch his breath, to find the words.
“My father took me to Kensington Gardens when I was five. Just the two of us. That was years before the divorce…” That day flooded back, his father chasing him around the base of the Peter Pan statue. There had been a single moment when the sun had caught the edge of Peter’s flute and Tristan had cried out.
“Papa, a fairy, look!”
And his father had caught him in his arms, laughed, and ruffled a hand through Tristan’s hair. “So London still has some magic, eh?”
That was the memory he held on to, the man who dared to believe life still held some magic and mystery, that not all of life was full of disappointments. But something had changed in his father when Tristan had turned thirteen. Carter’s mother had died, and the house was so heavy with grief that even Edward was affected. His parents divorced not long after, and his father had lost that last bit of humanity
“Oh!” Kat gasped and wriggled.
Tristan pressed her legs open wider and settled his upper body between her legs so he could press kisses to her mound and work his way down to her clit. The light whir of the vibrator hummed as he got closer, and Kat’s legs trembled against his biceps. Her cuffed hands started to lift away from the couch.
He smacked the side of her arse lightly. “Put them back,” he growled.
With a frustrated whimper, she dropped her hands back to the ground above her head, curling her fingers in a white-knuckled grip against the furniture leg.
To reward her, he fastened his lips around her clit and sucked on the sensitive bud. She cried out, wriggling at the overwhelming need to get away and get closer at the same time. The stimulation was too much, and he knew this was the first time she’d ever played a game like this.
“Come for me, beautiful.” His command was followed by Kat’s entire body jerking beneath him as an orgasm swept through her. It was a thing of beauty, to watch her come apart, the way a dozen emotions from surprise, to joy, then to delighted exhaustion passed over her features as she went limp. From her little nose, which was slightly upturned at the end, down to her pale-pink lips curving in a dazed smile, it all fascinated him.
I’ll never get enough of her .
He carefully removed the bullet and turned it off. Then he removed the leather cuffs and massaged her wrists.
“Ready for me?” he asked in his voice gruff. If he couldn’t get inside her soon, he was going to go mad. His cock was painfully hard, and every muscle in his body was aching for release.
“Yeah.” Her breathless reply was all he needed.
Tristan rolled her onto her back, and she parted her legs further. When he slid inside her, that dark heat surrounded him, making him feel a thousand explosions of pleasure both physical and emotional. Their breaths mingled as they moved together, slow at first, the rhythm tender. But desperation and raw passion overtook them, sweeping them away.
He clasped her hands in his and pinned them on either side of her head as he thrust inside her. Kat lifted her chin, and he saw glints of light spark in her eyes as she started to come undone.
The sight brought him to the edge, but it wasn’t until she whispered, “I love you,” that he launched over into the rush of pure ecstasy.
Her name escaped his lips in a soft cry, and he buried his face in her neck afterward.
Bodies trembling, they clung to each other.
“What’s your favorite childhood memory?” she asked, her voice gentle.
He stroked a hand along her outer leg, tracing patterns on her flesh, making her shiver.
“My favorite memory?” He considered the question. A spark of recollection, one sharp and almost painful, dug into the deepest part of his heart.
“Yes.” Kat threaded her fingers through his hair, soothing him in ways she’d never know.
It took him a moment to catch his breath, to find the words.
“My father took me to Kensington Gardens when I was five. Just the two of us. That was years before the divorce…” That day flooded back, his father chasing him around the base of the Peter Pan statue. There had been a single moment when the sun had caught the edge of Peter’s flute and Tristan had cried out.
“Papa, a fairy, look!”
And his father had caught him in his arms, laughed, and ruffled a hand through Tristan’s hair. “So London still has some magic, eh?”
That was the memory he held on to, the man who dared to believe life still held some magic and mystery, that not all of life was full of disappointments. But something had changed in his father when Tristan had turned thirteen. Carter’s mother had died, and the house was so heavy with grief that even Edward was affected. His parents divorced not long after, and his father had lost that last bit of humanity
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