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)
The groan that leaves him sounds painful.
“Lily,” he gasps, his hand finding my hair, not pulling, just holding. “Fuck.”
I take him into my mouth, as far as I can. I suck experimentally, and his hips jerk forward before he catches himself, freezing before he tries to pull back.
“No,” I mumble around him, and he stops, breathing hard.
I find a rhythm, hand stroking what I can’t fit, mouth working what I can. Watching him watch me on my knees in front of him makes me feel powerful. The pulse between my thighs has me squeezing them together.
Soon his hips start to move, small thrusts, and I relax my jaw, taking him deeper. I want this. I want to watch him lose control, want him using my mouth, doing all the dirty things he’s held back over the years.
“Lily.” His hold in my hair tightens. “You’re swallowing it.” I whimper, not letting up. It only turns me on more when he gives orders.
I suck harder, stroke faster, and he comes with a ragged shout of my name, spilling down my throat. I swallow and keep sucking as his entire body shudders.
I pull back, wipe my mouth, and look up at him smugly. “Told you.”
I watch his expression change, the last thread of his restraint snapping clean through.
He grabs me under my arms and lifts me like I weigh nothing, my back hitting the tile wall. The shock of cold against my heated skin makes me gasp, but his mouth crashes down on mine before I can make a sound.
Then he’s everywhere, consuming, his tongue forcing my lips apart, tasting himself on me and groaning. His urgency for me can’t be denied.
“You’re going to kill me,” he growls against my mouth, but he’s already positioning himself, hands rough under my thighs, spreading me open.
“Good,” I breathe, wrapping my legs around his waist, feeling the head of his cock pressing into me. “Do it.”
He thrusts into me in one hard stroke, no warning, no gentle build, and I scream against his shoulder. The stretch burns so good I see stars, my nails digging into his back. This is it. What I’ve always wanted from Tristan, for him to let go and take what he wanted. For him to be so obsessed with me that it drives him to the brink of insanity.
“Fuck,” he chokes out. “Lily—”
“Don’t stop.” I roll my hips, encouraging him. He’s so deep inside of me I can barely breathe. “Don’t stop,” I say again. He doesn’t.
Tristan pulls back and slams into me again and again, his grip on my thighs bruising, and I love it. Love that he’s finally stopped pretending, finally taking what he wants, finally treating me like I’m his in every way that matters.
He’s fucking me like he hates me, like he loves me, like he can’t tell the difference anymore. I cling to him, moaning his name, feeling the pressure build with every thrust. Feeling so many other things that I can’t even put into words at the moment.
“You’re mine,” he snarls against my neck, teeth grazing my pulse. “Say it.”
“Yours,” I gasp, arching into him. “Always yours, you psycho fucking stalker.”
He laughs, broken and wild, and drives into me harder, chasing his own release, chasing mine. I feel it building, coiling tight, and when his hand slides between us to find my clit, I come apart with a scream that echoes off the tiles.
He follows seconds later, burying himself deep, spilling inside me with a ragged groan that sounds like surrender.
I press my face against his neck, breathing hard, and feel his arms tighten around me like he’ll never let go.
“Still think I’m drunk?” I tease, smiling.
“You’re a disaster,” he says, but he’s smiling against my hair. “My disaster.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
TRISTAN
I’m going to put those handcuffs to use on her little ass. I create some of the best tech in the world, and I can’t stop one tiny blonde from giving me the slip. I run my hand down my face and sit up. I sleep hard when she’s in bed with me. It only goes to show that not only is my head messed up over her, but my body needs her for survival.
I touch the other side of the bed. She’s been gone long enough that the sheets where she slept have lost her warmth, but her scent still lingers.
There is no way she made it out of this house without me knowing. I made sure of that before I let myself really fall asleep. There’s no way in hell we are going to have a repeat of yesterday. She’s lucky I let her leave this bed without following her.
I roll from the bed and grab my phone off the nightstand. With one swipe, it brings up the feed. There she is, rifling through the office closet where I keep hard copies of documents and photos. I walk down the hall and pause at the open doorway. She has pulled a box onto the floor and is flipping through photographs, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. My shirt she picked up off the floor and is now wearing hangs off one shoulder. She pauses at an image and tilts her head, curious, relentless.