Slow Play (The Rules #3)(85)

“I’m serious.” He slides his fingers between my legs, touching every sensitive inch, then brings them up to his mouth, sucking them deep. “Fucking delicious,” he says when he pulls his fingers out.

A shaky breath leaves me when I see the way his lips shine from my juices. Oh, and then he licks them. My belly flutters. Maybe some girls get squicked out by that sort of thing but not me. Everything Tristan does is a turn on.

“What next?” I encourage him.

He smiles. “Because I’m a man, I would’ve somehow got those perfect, pink lips of yours wrapped around my dick, and you would’ve loved it.”

I smile in return. “I do like sucking your cock.”

His smile fades, replaced with a dark, hungry look that makes my body tighten with anticipation. He looks like he wants to jump me. “Woman, you can’t say things like that to me without getting a reaction.”

“What sort of reaction?” I ask innocently.

“Hand me another condom and you’ll see.”

I grab one of the many condoms that lie scattered on top of his bedside table and give it to him, watching with fascination as he gets on his knees and rolls it on. I love watching him do this. His brows furrowed in concentration, his lip caught between his teeth, his fingers brushing over the head of his cock and making it sway. He rolls that condom on and always gives it a good tug, stroking himself once. Twice. Then he’s good. He’s ready.

It’s the hottest thing ever.

“You ready for the big D?” he asks once the condom is securely in place. He’s grinning again, his expression so adorable despite what he just said. I’m sure he’s waiting for me to say something equally ridiculous.

I sit up and move toward him, his grin slipping as he falls back on his perfect ass and I crawl into his lap. His cock rises between us and I grab hold of his shoulders, wrapping my legs around his middle and positioning myself perfectly so I can sink down onto him.

“I always want the big D,” I tell him, smiling as I lower myself onto his thick cock, taking him inch by inch, my body yielding to his invasion until he’s buried deep.

Big. Throbbing. Filling me right up.

“Damn, Ali.” He leans forward, pressing his forehead against mine. I wiggle my hips and he winces. I start to lift up and he braces his hands on my hips, keeping me in place. “Just—don’t f*cking move.”

“But isn’t that the whole point of f*cking?” I wiggle again, feel him go even deeper and we both groan in unison.

“I’m gonna come and fast, if you keep that up.” He exhales loudly, sounding tortured. “And that’s the last thing I want to do.”

Me too. I want this to last, not be over before it’s done.

“Take it slow, baby,” he urges and I do, letting him guide me, his hands still on my hips as I lift up and sink down on him. The drag and pull of our connected bodies feels so incredibly good I can hardly stand it. I close my eyes, losing myself to the sensation of his cock pushing deep inside my body.

It’s like he completely owns me. I’m possessed by all things Tristan. His big body surrounds me, his large hands on my hips, my legs wound around him, our bodies so close we’re sharing the same air. I glance down, my hair falling forward as I watch his cock disappear inside my body and then reappear, thick and long and slick with my juices.

I swear I just had a mini orgasm.

“Fuck me, you feel so damn good,” he whispers just before his mouth is on mine. The kiss is dirty. Wicked. Wonderful. Tongues and lips, moans and whispers, our bodies growing slick with sweat, the tightening in my belly building.

He breaks the kiss to rain kisses along my jaw, down my neck. Soft, sucking kisses involving his tongue. His teeth. I clutch him closer, riding him hard, his hands moving to grip my ass and hold me still as he pounds inside of me. Hitting all the right spots, one in particular that has me clutching him close, my mouth on his shoulder. It opens on a silent scream as he rams into me, until I’m falling apart, my belly trembling, my inner walls clenching and releasing as I come. His name falls from my lips and other unintelligible words, something I always seem to do when I’m overcome. Or coming.

And then he’s coming too, right behind me, his body trembling, his muscles tensing just before they go lax. A shout leaves him and he squeezes me tight, his cock deep, his hold firm, possessive.

It feels like a claiming.

The man who doesn’t want to put labels on us, who’s determined to ruin what we have before it naturally falls apart, is claiming me. Possessing me. His mouth is on my skin, his cock in my body, his hands everywhere, demanding my surrender.

And I give it to him.

Willingly.

“This is taking too long,” I say as I stare at my reflection in the mirror. My hair is still not done and time is ticking right on by. “You need to hurry up.”

“Oh my God, shut up. You’re so demanding,” Kelli mutters as she runs a curling iron through just the ends of my hair. After pouring through fashion magazines for the last twenty minutes while Kelli blew dry my hair—she’s always buying magazines so I asked her to bring over her latest collection—I found the hairstyle I wanted for tonight.

Now let’s just see if Kelli can replicate it.

“Your dress is going to send Tristan to his knees,” Kelli says as she releases a section of hair and it falls in the most perfect half curl ever. So relieved she can deliver. “It’s sweet and sexy, all at once.”