Page 27 of Fast-Track Fiancé

He laid her back on the bed, kissing a path from her inner ankle up past her knee, slowing down all the more the closer he got to the apex of her thighs. Then, to her frustration, he moved to the top of the opposite thigh and began a slow path downwards again. At her whimper of discontent, he chuckled darkly.

He rose up onto his knees, gazing down at her with a look of what she hoped was deep admiration, but she couldn’t quite tell. He got back into place between her thighs, sliding her underwear down slowly until she was fully bare to him. Smoothly, he sucked on his index finger, taking the glistening digit and sliding it down in a line between her intimate folds. Nina moaned as he began a slow silky torture between her thighs, until she practically begged him to insert that tricky finger. He refused of course, leaning down to blow cold air upon her tortured flesh.

‘I told you, it’s too soon for that. You need time to recover. This is just about making you feel good, Nina. I’m going to make you feel so good.’

Nina gasped as Tristan’s lips pressed against her core, his fingers spreading her wide as he leaned in to kiss her silky hot skin. It felt absurdly intimate and intense and for a moment she wondered if she might push his head away, but as he licked and laved her just in the perfect spot she seemed to melt. Her body relaxed, mind emptying of all thoughts other than, Yes! and, More! and, Please, Tristan, oh, please...

After a time she realised that those words were actually escaping her own lips on small gasps and pleas for mercy as his gentle teasing kisses became more demanding. He worked her body as though he knew every inch of it. He was a master of pleasure, and she was fully at his mercy, coming apart at the seams.

The orgasm that built within her seemed to overtake her entire body, tuning her nerve endings to a fine point and then breaking her apart with an explosion of heat and wave after wave of delicious pleasure. After a few breathless moments of delirium, she regained an awareness of her surroundings and realised he hadn’t made any move to continue as they had the night before.

‘Still tender?’ he murmured against her inner thigh, stroking a hand along her still sensitive skin and making her shiver.

She shook her head to signal no, because the ache in her core had shifted into something very different from the reminder of her first time. Her hips shifted against him, her throat working with the effort not to beg for the scorching stretch of relief that she craved.

Tristan’s eyes darkened, seeing far too much as he rose to his knees above her on the bed. ‘The crew will be returning from town soon...but I think we have time for a shower.’

‘Together?’ she asked, picturing the intimate slide of hands along wet flesh and feeling her cheeks heat.

His smile was devilish as he lifted his head, a man thoroughly satisfied with his work. ‘This was a good start. But I’m going to need to gather more data if I’m expected to formulate an accurate strategy.’

‘How much more?’ she asked, trying not to show how ridiculously turned on his racing terminology made her when used in this context. It was perfect, he was perfect, and he wanted this just as much as she did. It was almost too perfect to believe, but she could worry over the potential risks and consequences later. Much later.

‘As much as you can take, kitten. If you think you can handle me?’

A flush of arousal pooled low in her belly and she knew she was in trouble, but she’d always been powerless to resist a challenge. Tristan Falco was like the thrill of the track distilled into human form and if she wasn’t careful, she’d lose herself in his wicked games.

She smiled back, her limbs heavy with pleasure as she accepted his hand and allowed him to lead her to the bathroom where he proceeded to show her exactly what kind of data he intended to gather from her until they were both weak limbed and thoroughly late to finish the rest of the photo shoot.

Over the course of the afternoon, Nina felt Tristan’s eyes on her and her body seemed to be experiencing a constant low hum of awareness in his presence. If anything, it only enhanced her confidence for her poses. Usually she felt awkward and ridiculous during photo shoots like this, but with Tristan’s gaze devouring her, she came alive.

The magazine photographer deferred often to Tristan’s expertise and while he didn’t actually take any photos of her himself, he did offer up some great ideas to change the direction from the earlier, more sexual poses to something edgier and infinitely more unique. He had an artist’s eye, she realised as he instructed the crew to drive the car back into the long expanse of the garage for some of the shots and incorporate a stack of spare tyres and mechanical tools in the foreground to represent Nina’s knowledge of the industry she loved.

As they gathered to see a preview of the photos, Nina felt surprisingly satisfied with looking at herself in the images. She looked powerful and sexy, as if the woman and the athlete had been given equal space to shine. The Falco Diamonds team also joined them for a few hours and were quick and efficient in completing their objectives for their campaign.

When Tristan announced that part of the Falco experience included being whisked away by him on a yacht for a couple of weeks, Nina found herself agreeing. She was technically still on bed rest, even if there might not be much resting being done while in bed with Tristan... But, for once, she allowed herself to play hooky from her strenuous schedule. After assuring Sophie that she would meet her in Argentina for the next race, she threw caution to the wind and accepted Tristan’s invitation.

‘I’m just saying—you definitely cheated,’ Tristan growled, his breath still coming hard and fast in the wake of a late afternoon lovemaking session. Nina smiled, remembering how he’d reacted after she’d beaten him at chess for a fifth time and he’d responded by pinning her down and punishing her with kisses that had eventually devolved into them retreating to his master cabin for several hours.

‘I never cheat,’ she teased, rolling over to tuck herself into the side of his chest. ‘You simply aren’t up to my skill level yet. But don’t worry, I’ll be very gentle with you next time.’

‘Little minx.’ His laughter rumbled against her skin and she smiled at the easy intimacy they’d fallen into over the past few days spent alone. He’d taken a much smaller vessel out and insisted on only a skeleton crew to give them as much privacy as possible. It was as if they’d stepped into a dream.

Since they’d set sail on his yacht, the world’s wildest playboy had thrown himself into showing her exactly how he had got his reputation. He made love to her in the morning as the dawn light crept into the opulent master cabin. He seduced her on the top deck in broad daylight after plying her with strawberries and champagne. The shameless man had even infiltrated her daily workout, in the gym filled with specialist equipment that he’d had inserted into the yacht specifically for her to use.

She couldn’t complain though, because he was certainly keeping her in shape on her time off. With both their bedroom activities and the myriad excursions he arranged for them, like snorkelling off the coast of Corsica and a hiking trip along Sardinia’s Montiferru mountain trail. For someone who’d travelled throughout much of Europe and beyond as a part of her job, she realised that she had been far too insular in how she spent her time away from the track. She ate at the same restaurants, walked the same paths and generally put all of her energy into driving all of the time. Even the few friendships she’d had had waned and dissipated since she’d removed herself from the public spectacle of being another Roux family scandal.

But spending time with Tristan felt like stepping into a dream, where none of that mattered. Sure, the sex was becoming addictive, but even more intoxicating were the moments where they simply spent time together, just existing. She’d told him more about her past, her relationship with her parents and how they’d barely spoken to one another—or to her and Alain—since her mother had remarried. In turn, Tristan had shared his experiences of growing up with a single mother and his regret at never having the opportunity to know his father, who had died shortly after Dulce had discovered she was expecting him.

As well as personal conversations, they didn’t shy away from talking about work, with Tristan surprisingly eager to discuss his ideas for the future of Falco Roux and her usually countering with how he was entirely wrong. He respected her expert opinion, she’d quickly realised, and so she eventually felt safe to share with him her belief that their management team was riddled with misogyny and inequality. He’d been furious that night, their peaceful meal at an Italian marina derailed while he’d asked for more details and had taken notes of names.

The whole thing had made her feel strange but relieved that she’d spoken up and that she hadn’t been immediately shot down. Tristan was aware of his privilege as team owner and as a man among men and, even long after she’d settled him down with kisses and caresses back in the comfort of their quiet cabin on the yacht, she’d caught moments of unrest in him as he’d stared broodily out at the ocean.

After that day, she’d steered clear of any more talk of Falco Roux, trying to redirect him towards more playful avenues of entertainment. Hence why, today, she’d suggested they play chess. He knew only how to play at a basic level, so naturally she had beaten him time after time. But he was an entertaining opposition. He was not a sore loser; he threw himself into the game and into the mental back-and-forth that he seemed to intuitively know she enjoyed most.

But even as she lay in the wake of their lovemaking and tried to tell herself to relax and enjoy this temporary break for what it was, the reality of their situation was always looming on the horizon like an elephant in the room that neither of them wished to address first. Lying in bed with him like this, she felt as if she were just waiting for the other shoe to drop. For something to ruin this interlude and remind her of all the reasons why it would only end in heartbreak.

But no, that wasn’t possible because her heart most definitely was not involved. She tended to get overly attached to people sometimes when she really liked them, that was all. It was just infatuation and endorphins from amazing sex. Maybe that was why she had begun to daydream about floating down the aisle in a flowing white gown. No amount of chemistry and infatuation would change the fact that this wasn’t a real engagement and there would be no real wedding bells chiming in their future. She was too young and too busy with her career dreams to be having such absurd thoughts. Right?

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