Chapter 32

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

LAYLA

Hearing a gentle knock on the door, I leap from the bed and wrap my robe around me before heading to the door. I quickly glance through the peephole to ensure it's Tristan and open the door. He walks inside and proceeds to close and lock it without saying a word.

He silently stalks toward me with a devilish glint in his eyes and slips his fingers under the sash holding my short, floral rope shut. Toying with the silk belt, he takes his time slipping the single knot and pulling it inch by inch from the loops. He holds on to the sash and delicately slides the robe from my shoulders, causing it to flutter down my arms and pool at my feet.

Left standing naked before him, he lifts the silk belt in front of my face and softly instructs, "Close your eyes."

I do as he asks, and the soft fabric brushes against my face. Lifting my hands, my fingers roam over the silk covering my eyes, following it around the sides of my head to the knot Tristan has just tied .

"I want you focused on my touch and my words." His warm whisper blows over the back of my ear as his knuckles lightly dust down my arms. His lips press to the crook up my neck, and he peppers a trail of wet kisses back up to my ear. "My hands rubbing over your body. How my lips and tongue can flutter softly over your skin, but also how I suck and tease you until you're a whimpering mess."

His hands slide from my body. Followed by his lips as I'm left in the dark, forced to allow my other senses to take over. The only sounds filling the apartment are my heavy breaths of anticipation, the faint whirl of the ceiling fan, and the soft rustling sound I can't place.

I startle when Tristan pulls me flush to his hard, naked body. My hands press against his firm chest, and my fingers dust over the swirls of ink hidden by my blindfold. As I trace the invisible lines from memory, his calloused hands roam the length of my spine. He pauses briefly to palm my ass before gripping my thighs and pulling me around his waist.

My arms and legs instinctually wrap around him, clinging to his waist as he carries me through my apartment. With his lips on my neck, he alternates between peppering words and kisses. "I'm going to spend the night showing you how absolutely fucking obsessed I am with you. With pleasing you."

He lowers me to the soft, familiar feel of my mattress. Climbing over me, his lips and hands teasingly take their time exploring my body. From my shoulders down to fingertips, every inch of my breasts and stomach, and my thighs to my toes… Everywhere, but where I suddenly need him again. Each touch titillates my nerves as he croons about how perfect every inch of me is. His exploration— which lasts an agonizingly enjoyable eternity —makes me long for him, even as his hands and lips are on me.

Rolling me beneath him and positioning me on my hands and knees, he familiarizes himself with my back, placing a long, wet kiss along the curvature of my spine. Tristan moans into the dimple above my ass. His fingers slide into the hair at the nape of my neck, and he lightly fists my locks. Firmly pressing his fingers into me, he groans, "Are you ready to come for me?"

"Yes," I pant, needily squeezing around the touch I've been desiring.

He curls his fingers as he continues to work them in and out of me, steadily pushing me to the brink. My release swells at my core, and Tristan pulls back, causing it to subside as quickly as it had grown. "Patience, mo cuishle ."

Continuing to work his fingers, my pending orgasm crests and ebbs repeatedly as he continues to deny me. Each swell is stronger than the last. His mere touch has me writhing beneath him, my entire body feeling as though I'm ready to explode.

"Show me how beautifully you come undone." He pumps his fingers, curling them vigorously. "Come for me."

As though I have lost all control of my body, I do exactly as he commands. I claw at the sheets, and a near-silent breathy scream rattles from my lungs. Every muscle in my body spasms as his build-up detonates through me, completely shattering me as I crumple to the mattress .

"Do you have any idea how fucking beautiful you are when you fall apart for me?" Tristan asks, slipping a hand under my hip and pulling me back on to my knees. Leaving my chest and face against the mattress, he grips my hips and drags me backward over his length.

He slides in, ungodly deep at this angle, bottoming out with his tip pressed firmly against my cervix. He holds me in place, with him fully seated inside me. "Do you feel that? Your tight cunt wrapped perfectly around my cock, like you were fucking made to take me," he marvels.

"Show me." I moan into the mattress beneath me, still reeling and breathless from my release but somehow needing more of him.

I can't get enough.

Anything for you," he groans, undulating his hips, repeatedly filling me to the brink with his cock. He savors every thrust as he takes me slow and deep. Every move he makes drags blissfully along my walls until my body is wound so tight again that it feels as though I'm vibrating.

Tristan pulls from me and rolls me onto my back. The mattress dips as he climbs over my body, pressing himself back into me, and slipping the blindfold from my eyes. I blink, trying to adjust to the sudden brightness, until I find myself focused on his lusty gaze.

Pulling my thigh over his hip, he quickens his pace. My eyes roll back as my body tenses, the crashing wave of my orgasm only a few thrusts away .

"Eyes on me," Tristan lightly grips my face and demands my stare. "I need to see you because you have no idea what watching you come does to me, mo cuishle. "

I'm barely able to breathe as his eyes bore through my soul, he thrusts deep for a few strokes, and I'm done. His name trembles from my lips, and my nails dig into the muscles of his broad shoulders. My entire body quivers with bliss and I struggle to hold his gaze as he continues his long, languid strokes.

Watching me come, his features and eyes go soft for a split second, but they are quickly replaced by a ravenous hunger. He slams into me a final time, not breaking our gaze as he pours his release into me. His body falls onto mine, and he nuzzles his lips against my neck, panting for his next breath. "I can't fucking get enough of watching you come. Of you."

Raking my fingers through his hair, I pull him into my embrace as my other hand roams the heaving muscles of his back.

He's so much…

This isn't normal.

This thing I feel between us, you don't feel that with a man you've practically just met.

Do you?

I'm overwhelmed with thoughts as he pulls his spent cock from me, holding me tight and pulling me close as he rolls onto his back. I'm completely exhausted and too drunk on him to even try to have a rational conversation with him— or myself— about this .

"I'll clean you up in the morning. I know you're exhausted." He presses his lips to my forehead and pulls me tight as I struggle against the heavy weight of my eyelids. "Get some sleep. You're safe with me, mo cuishle ."

I know I am.