Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 64571 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 323(@200wpm)___ 258(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64571 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 323(@200wpm)___ 258(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
“You’re only saying that because you met Killian.”
I burst into laughter. “You got jokes now?”
“Every now and then.” He winks, being playful, blood spattered all over him. I ignore that part, enjoying this lighter side of Tristan.
He takes my hand, leading me up to the steps so that I don’t face-plant into his door. He punches in a code for the keypad before he pushes it open, reaching in to flip on lights.
“Holy moly,” I breathe.
I don’t know what I was expecting. Obviously not a penthouse, but this space, one he threw together quickly, while small, is warm and lived-in. There are books stacked up in random places. A blanket is thrown over one couch arm. There are coffee cups in the kitchen sink. It looks like someone actually lives here. The penthouse seemed cold at times with how pristine it was.
“It’s cute,” I tell him. “I approve.”
“Really?” He lifts a brow.
“Kinda romantic.”
“I need a shower before you start talking about romance and being my wife.” He grunts, heading straight for what I assume is the bedroom.
“Is that an invitation?” I tease, following him. “Because I’m very helpful. I could scrub your back. Your front. All the bloody bits off of you.”
“Lily!” He stops in the hallway and turns. “You’re drunk.”
“And you’re a psycho stalker. We already played this game.” I step closer. “It’s only fair. You snuck into my room and got me all naked. I don’t even know what that looks like.” I point to the front of his pants. “And it’s been inside of me.”
He stares at me. I can see he’s tired and trying to be good, but he’s close to cracking, so I puff out my lower lip and stare up at him through my lashes. I’ve seen Teddy get away with murder when she does this move.
“Fine,” he says finally. “But you’re keeping your clothes on.”
“Sure.” I cross my fingers behind my back. There’s no way in hell that’s happening, but I’ll go along with this farce for now.
The bathroom is small, steam quickly filling it as he turns the water on. I watch as he pulls his shirt over his head, and I stop breathing. My eyes scan over every inch of him, taking in the blood on his chest and his arms. The muscle underneath. There are faint white lines, old scars I’ve never seen before. Barely noticeable.
“You’re staring,” he says.
“Yep.” I hop up on the sink.
Tristan reaches down and unbuttons his jeans, pushing them down and kicking them to the side. I stare as he removes all his clothes and then steps under the water in all his naked glory. How had he never had sex before?
The muscles, the scars, the water running down his chest, to his stomach, and then lower. Washing all the blood away. He’s beautiful and terrifying.
“You’re still staring,” he says, not glancing my way.
“Still doing that, yep.”
He turns, water hitting his back. “Happy now?”
“Getting there.” I pull my shirt over my head. Drop it on the floor.
“Lily—”
“What? I might have blood on me too.” I step out of my shorts. “And don’t ‘Lily’ me. I’m helping. That’s what tradwives do, I think.”
I’m naked before he can argue or I chicken out. I step into the shower, and he doesn’t move back but also doesn’t stop me. He simply watches me with dark eyes, water running down his face, and I can see he’s close to cracking. I have him right where I want him.
Tristan fills up most of the small space. I reach for the soap, lather my hands, and press my palms to his chest.
“Let me,” I whisper. “Please.” I want to explore him the same way he did me.
He doesn’t answer. Just stands there, breathing hard, as I wash the rest of the blood away. His chest, his shoulders, down his arms. The water runs clear between us. I go lower, to his stomach and hips, and he catches my wrist.
“Lily.”
“Shhh.” I sink to my knees in front of him. “Let me try something. If you hate it, I’ll stop.”
“If I hate it?” He lets out a humorless laugh. “You’re drunk,” he says again, weaker this time.
“You’re going to let me,” I tell him. “Because you can’t really say no to me.”
I don’t wait for an answer. I wrap my hand around his hard cock. When he was inside of me, I felt incredibly full, but I’m still shocked it fit. Thinking about that sweet burn when he first thrust into me makes me have to press my thighs together. I want to taste him first, though. I peek up at him through my lashes.
Tristan is beautiful. Terrifying. And all mine. Every single part of him.
I slide my hand down to the base, feeling it jerk in my palm, hot and heavy. Tentatively, I lean forward and drag my tongue up the underside, slowly, learning the shape of him, the salty sweet taste that is all him.