Crash Into Me(114)

My body still quivered from coming, but I wanted him to feel as good as he'd done for me, so I returned to riding his cock quickly. His dark gaze as he stared up at me told me he was getting close, so I rolled my hips with each push down on him, grazing the most sensitive part of his cock with my G spot. He came with a force so powerful I felt like I would drown with each blast inside me. Just then, my own release roared through me for a second time, and I cried out as he pulled my hair sharply to bring my mouth to his as he buried his cock inside my body.

Tristan panted near my cheek as his release slowly subsided, and I looked down to see him touching a reddish mark just above my right breast. He tenderly pressed his lips against my skin where he'd bit me and whispered, "Mine."

"I guess I've been marked," I said as I ran my fingers through his sweat dampened hair.

"I want every man who sees you to know you're mine, Nina. I want them to know even if you were covered head to toe that underneath you bear my mark. That as much as I'm yours, you're mine and mine alone."

Pressing my lips to his forehead, I leaned against him as he held me. "Always."





Chapter Twenty-Three

I'd had one of the best nights of my life, and as much as I didn't want it to end, by the time we returned home, I was exhausted. I was spared the embarrassment of having to face Jenson as we left the car since the driver disappeared almost as soon as he turned off the car. The thought that he'd seen this with Tristan before crossed my mind, but I quickly pushed it away with a gentle reminder to myself that I didn't need to doubt how much he loved me and a not-so-gentle reminder to not screw up the great thing we had with my irrational jealousy.

We'd made a mess of each other in the car, so we took a quick shower. As I toweled myself dry, I heard Tristan's phone vibrate on the nightstand and saw his expression instantly turn serious. As if on cue, he picked it up and walked out of the bedroom to answer it.

Curiosity about who was calling and what they said to him to change his mood so drastically played on my mind, and after five minutes of obsessing over it, I made a conscious choice to get into my shorts and t-shirt and distract myself with the mail I'd gotten from Jordan's that day. Junk mail I quickly tore up and a letter from my university about alumni dues took up a few minutes, thankfully taking my mind off what Tristan could be talking about outside.

At the bottom of the pile I found two letters like the one I'd lost that day when Mrs. Phillips' grandson jumped me. Neither had a return address, but they were both addressed to me at the apartment. The envelope of the first one looked like the mailman had dragged it along the street before delivering it to Jordan's mailbox. It was filthy, stained from dirt and what looked like coffee. As I struggled to make out when it had been mailed, I saw the postmark said July 9 and the letter was sent from a post office on the Lower East Side. Turning it over, I saw the hint of a shoe print on the outer edge too.

This letter has been on quite a trip.

I slid my finger under the flap and ripped open the top of the envelope to find the letter inside was in no better shape. Stained from coffee and dirt, it was unreadable, except for one line at the bottom that read in part, "Don't ignore this warning..." I strained to understand the words that came after, but the abuse the letter had endured made it impossible to figure out its meaning through the smeared ink.

Turning the envelope and letter over, I saw nothing more. Sure it was a debt collection letter for some bill I'd forgotten, I dismissed the piece of mail and threw it all in the garbage, along with the alumni and junk mail.