Starlight by Isadora Rose, Kate Monroe

Tristan? You told me to fuck you, not to love you – or do you not remember?”
    A shiver rippled through his body as her soft fingers began to trace the thin line of hair that ran down the centre of his toned abdomen. “I remember...I remember everything that has passed between us, Esther. Everything.”
    When her hands reached the head of his cock, Tristan turned to the side and pulled her into his lap. His guts twisted and his head pounded when he saw just how much pain was etched into her pale face. “ Merde , Esther!” he swore. “ Ma belle , all I want to do is take this agony away from you!”
    Esther nodded urgently as she felt his cock surge against her. “But you do, Tristan; every time that you take me in your arms, every moment I spend with you it leaves me!”
    “Then I am going to take you again now, Esther. Tell me how you want me.” His words were slow, deliberate – and drenched in pain.
    A startled gasp flew from her lips as he forced her back down onto the sheets and seized hold of both of her wrists to pin them above her head. “Tristan –“
    “Tell me! However you want it, however will ease your pain – I am yours to command, Esther, all of me is yours. Tell me now how to love you.”
    She closed her eyes and shuddered against him. “P-precisely that. I want to feel loved, Tristan. I want...I want to be cherished and adored.”
    A solitary tear snaked down Tristan’s flushed face as he readied the head of his cock against her entrance. “That, Esther, I can do for you. Let me love you.”
    The double meaning of his words was more than apparent – but she could do nothing but willingly submit to him. Here in the bed alone with the Comte, he was all that mattered. With any other man, the comfort they offered faded away along with her climax, but the Comte – Tristan – was different. The mere touch of his hand or the sound of his laughter was enough to make her feel something she had never dared hope to feel again after losing her son and her husband in so cruel a way.
    He watched her face contort and then, to his desperate relief, the acceptance that passed across it. “May I, chérie ?”
    With a quaking sigh, she wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him down onto her. “Yes, Tristan. I need you, my comte. I need you to make love to me.”
    Tristan lowered his head to cover Esther’s lips with his own as he slowly pushed his cock into the tight heat that welcomed him. Their bodies were a perfect fit together, as always – he knew now that he could never get enough of the way that she arched against him and took the full length of his shaft inside her as he eased himself in with a soft groan that she echoed.
    Esther was bliss. He was convinced that he could gladly stay locked in his moment of personal heaven for the rest of his life, his cock buried inside her and their bodies joined as one. Her breath was already coming in shallow gasps even before he gently lifted his lips away from hers and transferred them to the side of her throat to kiss his way down along her collarbone and across each of her breasts, teasing his way around the pebbled nipples before finally drawing them into his mouth in turn.
    She whimpered as he slowly wrapped his tongue around each nipple, lavishing his attention on her to coax her pleasure ever higher in his attempt to wordlessly convey the strength of his complete and utter adoration of her.
    When her low moans were constant and desperate, Tristan pulled back and stilled the thrusts of his cock, waiting for Esther to relax underneath him before he began to move inside her again. He released her wrists to wind his fingers through her tousled hair, took her head in his hands and stared down into her eyes. “Would you ever marry again, Esther? Would you risk your heart again?”
    Esther stiffened as he held her gaze. “Why do you ask, Tristan?”
    He claimed another bittersweet kiss from her lips before replying. “Humour me, chérie . Would