Tristan & Danika Book 3 - Page 57

Finally, he pulled back to look at me.  Something wild flared in his eyes.  The pain, as it always does, was turning into something akin to rage.

“Last year you told me you were in love with him.  Those words came out of your mouth, directed at me.  You cared about him enough to destroy me with that.  You were planning to marry him, you said.  You felt confident enough about that marriage to tell me, of all people, that it was a foregone conclusion.  What do you imagine that did to me, to hear you say that?  What would the reverse do to you?  Tell me.”

I just shook my head.  I remembered so clearly where I’d been when I’d heard a rumor, just over a year ago, that he and Mona were engaged.  It had messed me up.

Being apart was one thing, but the idea that some other woman could be his wife?  That was out of f**king line.

And I’d planted the same poisonous idea in Tristan’s head about Andrew and me.  I was fully culpable here.  I’d given him that idea, knowing that it was utter nonsense, knowing quite well that it would mess him up like it had me.

I felt guilty enough about it to offer some small recompense.

“First of all, let’s be clear.  You have no claim on our years apart.  You don’t own any of them.”

His golden eyes were filled with a supplication so raw that I couldn’t take it at close range.  One small rant had reduced him from the rage back to the pain.

I pushed him away, wrenching him off me, out of me, scrambled back, then stood, and backed up until my shoulder blades. .h.i.t a wall.

“No claim,” I repeated.  I was naked, but I didn’t even try to cover myself from his eyes.  My body wasn’t the most exposed part of me just then.  I wanted to cover my heart.

“No claim,” I repeated again, voice quavering.  “But of course I didn’t love him.  I wanted to love him, but love is not about want.”

His eyes had gone pure liquid.

I shuddered, then started to shiver, and not from the cold.

“He was good for me, but love is not about good.”

My hand jabbed at him, then at me, then back again, the motion wild, chaotic.  “This is what love gets you, okay?  I cared about Andrew, do care about him, but I walked away clean.”

Lips trembling, voice trembling, I continued, “Love doesn’t let you walk away clean.  Love is messy.  I don’t have to tell you, of all people; Love takes a f**king piece of you before it’s done.”

If it is ever even possible to be done.

I couldn’t say that part aloud.  Fear still held too strong a hold on me, and I respected that fear enough to give it the time it needed.

He rose and moved to me.  His shorts rode low on his hips, the waistband in front still pulled under his s.c.r.o.t.u.m.  He hadn’t bothered to raise them enough to cover his heavy, spent c.o.c.k.  I didn’t think he even noticed.

It was distracting, but not as distracting as the unrelenting glint in his eyes.  His mood had altered with the flip of a switch.

My rant had appeased him, to put it lightly.

I wasn’t sure that had been its desired result.  I’d wanted to solve a problem, not create a new one.

He cupped my face in his hands, his eyes tender enough to break me.

“Come here,” he urged softly, taking his hands away from my face, and opening his arms wide.

With a shuddering sigh, I fell into them.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

TRISTAN

I wrapped my arms around her and clutched her to my chest, letting her words wash over me, allowing them to soothe me.  She hadn’t been happy to say them, but they still worked as balm to my wounded heart.

We stayed like that for a long time, but it couldn’t last forever, especially since we were skin on skin.

Eventually, we started shifting and soothing rubs turned into lingering touches.

Her hand moved to my stiff erection.  Her teeth bit at her lush lower lip while her palm pumped at me, her grip firm as she ran it up and down my length.  I loved the feel of her hand on me, the way her delicate fingers curved so perfectly around my throbbing length.

I watched her face while she touched me.  That dear, beautiful face.  Her hair was parted down the middle and pulled back tight today.  Even our efforts on the couch hadn’t loosened it.  It was a severe style, but somehow it only enhanced the raw beauty of her features, her clear gray eyes standing out like pale crystals, her trembling lips so lush I couldn’t stop picturing them wrapped around my c.o.c.k.

Not yet, I thought.  Maybe next time.

This time I needed to feel her against me again, to press my whole body to her whole body and feel.

My lips latched onto hers, plundering hers, bruising in their conquest.

Mine, my lips told her.

I backed her flush into the wall, dislodging her hand from me.

Lifting her high, I held her propped up with a hip braced between her legs, gripping her a.s.s in both hands.

I buried my face against the soft mounds of her br**sts, rubbing my stubbled cheek against the hard nub of her nipple.

She squirmed and gasped at the abrading contact, clutching my head to her.

I worked my way over to her other quivering breast, nuzzling into the tight crest, turning my head to lick and suck it into my mouth.

I drew hard on her nipple until she whimpered.  Until she begged.

Mine, my body told her, as I pinned her to the wall.

She was panting in short, heavy gasps, her breaths puffing against the top of my head.  I swear just the sound of those labored breaths could have gotten me off.

I twisted my hips, rubbing my jutting c**k hard into the soft flesh of her inner thigh.  I shoved against her until I felt a spurt of pre-come coat the skin just below her pu**y.

She moaned and reached a grasping hand down, gripping me, pumping.

It was too much, too soon, and I pulled it away.  It seemed a waste to come all over her thigh, when I was more than welcome inside of her tight c.u.n.t.

I flicked my tongue against her throat as I shifted, positioning us both so I was snug between her thighs, her feet lifted clean off the ground.

I took her mouth with ferocity as I impaled her slowly onto my aching c.o.c.k.

She was suspended only by one hard hand on her hip, and my hard member working her on the inside.

She gasped and trembled as I nailed her against that wall.

I gripped my free hand into her hair, holding it at the nape, keeping her mouth anch.o.r.ed to mine.

I pulled back to watch her face as I began to move.

My eyes drank in the sight of her face, tight with longing, her eyes wide and moist, her lower lip trembling uncontrollably.