Page 13 of False Heir

“Talk to me,” I urged, my voice a whisper against her hair. “What’s going on inside that head of yours?”

Adriana pulled back just enough to look up at me, her dark eyes searching mine. She was trying to put on a brave face, but the shadows beneath her eyes betrayed the sleepless nights and the worry gnawing at her soul.

“It’s just...” She hesitated, biting her lip. “Every time you leave, I can’t help but wonder if...”

“Hey.” My thumb brushed her cheek gently, wiping away an errant tear. “I’m here now. And I’m not going anywhere.”

She nodded, taking a shaky breath, leaning into my touch like a flower towards the sun. We both knew the stakes, the risk every sunrise brought in our world, but we also knew the strength we drew from each other. That silent pact between us was stronger than any fear.

The cabin’s soft shadows danced around us as night draped its velvet cloak over the world outside. The air grew cooler, but the space between us was warm, alive with the pulse of our need for reassurance, for connection. Her hands found their way under my shirt, tracing the lines of my back with a tenderness that contrasted sharply with the harshness of our lives.

“Tristan, I need...” Her voice trailed off, but her eyes said everything her words couldn’t.

“I know.” I folded her in my arms, my lips finding hers in a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was raw, desperate, fueled by a love that had been tested by fire and forged in the depths of darkness.

Then she threw her head back and moaned, pressing her body against mine, clearly feeling my erection against her body.

“Fuck,” she said softly. “I’m so glad you’re alive.”

“Same, love,” I said, raking my teeth along the length of her neck. “ “Every day. Every single day I thank God that you’re here, with me.”

My words were barely a whisper against her ear, my hands roaming over her body, tracing the familiar paths that were as much a part of me as my own skin.

She gasped at the contact, her hands gripping my shoulders to steady herself. I loved this. Loved the tiny sounds she made when I touched her, loved how she arched into my touch like a flame seeking warmth in the cold wind.

But what I really wanted to do was make her scream.

Chapter Seven: Tristan

My lips met hers at the front door, hungry and insistent, our breaths mingling in puffs of white in the cold.

“Tristan,” Adriana whispered between kisses, the word a key unlocking something wild within me.

Without breaking contact, my fingers found the hem of her shirt, lifting it gently over her head. Her bra, an obstacle I dispatched with a flick of my wrist, fell to the ground—forgotten. My mouth followed the path I’d cleared, trailing down the valley between her breasts, taking my sweet time because every second counted.

“God, you’re beautiful,” I murmured against her skin, feeling her shiver not from the cold but from the heat we were generating right there on the doorstep.

Her hands wound into my hair, pulling me closer as if she couldn’t get enough. And damn, that was exactly how I felt—like I could never have enough of her. I worshipped her with my lips, lavishing attention on her nipples until they pebbled, her soft moans a melody that filled the silent night.

“Tristan...” The way she said my name, full of need and trust—it did things to me, twisted my insides in the best way possible. She always did this when we were having sex, and it was always my undoing; the lilt of her voice at the end of my name, like she was asking me a question, like she was pleading for more.

Kissing further down, I paused when I reached her baby bump. A small mound that was a testament to the life we’d created. I pressed my lips there, reverence blooming in my chest.

“Seems mummy and daddy need some alone time, huh?” I joked lightly, looking up to catch her reaction.

Laughter bubbled forth from her, genuine and unrestrained. It cascaded over me, warming me more than any fire ever could. That sound, her laughter, I’d wage wars for it. I’d do anything to hear it every day for the rest of my life.

“Tristan Callahan,” she said, her voice tinged with love and a hint of that sharp wit I adored, “you sure know how to make a girl forget it’s freezing outside.”

“Only for you, Adriana. Only for you.” And that was the goddamn truth.

I shifted, dropping to my knees and feeling the rough texture of the cabin’s wooden floor against my knees, but I didn’t care. All that mattered was the woman standing before me—Adriana with her dark hair cascading around her shoulders, eyes bright with a mix of desire and something fiercer, something akin to the power she wielded without even knowing.

“Tristan,” she breathed out again, this time laced with impatience.

“Shh,” I whispered, fingers hooking into the waistband of her leggings. I tugged them down, slow and steady, revealing inch by tantalizing inch of her skin. “You’re soaked through, babe. It’s fucking sexy.”

The leggings pooled around her feet, and she stepped out of them, standing bare and beautiful in the soft electric light of the room, the door still open behind her.

---