The VIP Room(46)

I moaned when he tugged down my panties. They dropped towards the floor, tangling around my heels.

“How wet are you for me, sweetheart?” he murmured into my ear, his hand coming around my front to caress the outer lips of my *. His light touch on my sensitive flesh almost made me sob with need. He was cruel to tease me. “Tell me, and I’ll f*ck you like you’ve never been f*cked before.”

Gasping, not caring about my dignity or pride, I cried out, “Dripping, Tristan. Please, please, please. I need you now!”

As though he needed proof, his fingers found a trail of wetness on my inner thigh. He traced it to the source and I moaned when a thick finger entered my tight sheath, stretching me deliciously. He cursed lowly before dropping a kiss on the back of my neck, as if pleased. A moment later, I heard him release his belt and lower his zipper. A crinkling sound reached my ears as he slipped on a condom.

A moment later, I thrust back my ass with a groan when I felt him tease my wet lips with the head of his warm cock.

I was chanting, “Please, please, please.” Beyond begging. I didn’t care anymore. All I knew was that I needed him inside me or else I’d go crazy.

He gave me what I wanted. With a single, sharp thrust, he stretched me until every inch of his thick length was deep inside me.

“Fuck,” he growled behind me. “You’re so tight, Noelle.”

I couldn’t respond. After that first bit of pain that signaled my year long dry spell, I was in heaven. I could feel him everywhere; he filled me completely and perfectly. I could feel every inch of him pressed intimately against my sensitive inner walls. And when he started thrusting, quick and powerfully, I couldn’t contain my screams. I’d never been particularly loud with my past boyfriends, but I’d never felt anything so right as Tristan pounding into me over and over again.

His hands gripped my hips tightly, using them as leverage to push into me more forcefully. My eyes closed, lost in pleasure. In a daze, I felt the soft fabric of Tristan’s slacks brushing against the backs of my thighs every time he slammed inside me. Even in my heels, I tried to raise myself on my tippy-toes so I could feel more of him. It was delicious madness, driving me insane.

Suddenly, he pulled away and I cried out in frustration. Tristan’s warm hands grabbed my waist and he swiftly turned me around to face him. My eyes connected with his. His pupils were dilated; the green of his irises were bright with wanting and desire.

A slow, pleased smile curved onto my features and he watched me as though in a daze. There was a look on his face, as though I’d ensnared him, like I’d put him under a witch’s spell like in the stories my mother used to tell me. It made me feel powerful, alive.

Grasping my left thigh, he wrapped my leg around his lean hips and reentered my tight sheath. I moaned at the feel of him and then laughed breathlessly because it felt so right.

He started pumping into me. My lids slid shut, my breaths were rapid and uneven as flames of pleasure unfurled within my belly.

“I wanna watch as you come.” His rough, almost slurred voice reached my ears, ragged and husky. “Look at me when you come.”

My eyes immediately flashed open at his command, seeking his. The quick slide of him between my legs was my undoing. Every delicious thrust wound me up tighter…and tighter…and tighter…

When I came, it felt like the threads of my soul were being ripped apart. My stomach muscles clenched as the pleasure crested. I hung breathlessly on the very edge, feeling heat between my thighs as Tristan continued to thrust powerfully, before I toppled over into oblivion. I couldn’t think, couldn’t hear, couldn’t see. The pleasure was like nothing I’d ever experienced before.

But I kept his eyes throughout. His beautiful, piercing eyes.

Clarity returned when I heard Tristan’s sharp groans and rough curses. “I can feel you coming, Noelle,” he grated, bringing his head towards the hollow of my neck, his breath hot on my skin. “Damn, you feel so amazing.” He hilted one last time and stayed imbedded between my thighs before he followed me in pleasure. “Oh f*ck,” he groaned. I felt his body tense until he went completely still and then his harsh gasps and soft moans reached my ears.

A moment later, Tristan leaned into me fully, panting and spent.

Pleased, sated, and warm, I smiled to myself, quickly realizing that I could become addicted to this…to Tristan.





Chapter 4





“Thanks, sweetheart,” Tristan said in a cool voice, finally retreating from my body. His tone struck me as odd, wiping away the relaxed, almost floating feeling I’d experienced a moment earlier. No, something was wrong.

He stepped away and I stumbled a bit, unprepared for the lack of support and my wobbly knees. Cold air swept my overheated skin as I watched him in confusion, trying to gauge the sudden change in him.

Tristan’s chest glistened with sweat and his cheeks were flushed, hair mussed. He was sex, personified.

I remembered my own state of undress and crossed my arms over my bare breasts, watching as he zipped up his slacks and buttoned them. A ball of dread started to form in my stomach as the lust-induced haze slowly started to dissipate. Tristan wouldn’t meet my eyes and my own nakedness made me feel vulnerable, a sharp contrast from how I felt only moments before.

The silence was maddening. When Tristan finally met my gaze, I offered him a timid smile even as I absorbed his blank expression.