Page 15 of Captive Bride

This was something I knew how to do. Something I was good at. Something that made Adriana lose herself completely in a realm of sensations where I could make her forget everything else.

I gently sucked on her, running my tongue over every ridge and crease.

Her fingers tightened in my hair as she gave a sharp intake of breath, her body trembling beneath me. I listened to the sweet sounds escaping her lips, each one more intoxicating than the last.

I was relentless in my pursuit, ensuring each touch, each flicker of my tongue was better than the last. With every sound she made, with every tremor that danced under her skin, I savored the taste of her pleasure like it was the finest of wines.

“You taste so fucking good,” I said, my breath hot on her sensitive flesh.

Her body quaked in response, her fingers clenching in my hair as she pulled me closer. Nothing existed outside of this moment, outside of the pleasure I was giving her. My world was reduced to the taste of her, the sounds she made, and the feel of her body beneath my touch.

“Tristan,” she whispered, her voice a thin thread of sound over the hum of our desire. "Don't stop."

“I’m not going to stop until you come for me, love.”

And I meant it. The weight of our fears, of the uncertain future we faced, could wait at the door. We deserved a reprieve, and if pleasure was a refuge, then I would offer every bit of it to her. Adriana, for all her strength and resilience, deserved to be worshipped, to be loved in a way that made her forget the world outside.

And with that promise lingering between us, I returned my attention to her, lavishing every inch of her in slow, deliberate strokes of my tongue. She trembled beneath me, her soft sighs and gasps the only soundtrack in the room. I thrived on her reactions, each one fueling my desire to taste more, to feel more.

I pressed my fingers into her, deep and slow, mirroring the rhythm set by my tongue. The sensation was met with a gasp, her hips lifting off the bed to meet my movements. Her walls clenched around me, eliciting a groan that vibrated against her sensitive flesh.

With every thrust and swirl of my tongue, she grew more desperate, more lost in the sensations. I could feel her spiraling toward her release; her breaths were shorter, faster. She gripped my hair tighter, urging me closer, deeper.

And everything else faded away.

This was a language I understood – the language of her body responding to mine.

Driven by her cries of pleasure and eager to push her over the edge into blissful oblivion, I quickened my pace. My fingers plunged deeper within her as my tongue flicked over that spot which made her hips buck and writhe beneath me.

"Tristan," she gasped, the word shattering into a thousand tiny shards of raw emotion. The sound of my name on her lips was like a drug, spurring me on in a heady rush.

"Come for me, Ade," I murmured against her, my voice low and rough with desire.

A moan echoed off the walls – low, primal, and full of surrender. Her body convulsed beneath me as wave after wave of pleasure seized her. Her fingers clenched in my hair, holding on as if I were the only thing grounding her to earth.

My name tumbled from her lips again and I savored it, savored every gasping breath and shaky moan.

I continued moving against her, my tongue and fingers drawing out every shudder, every quiver until she finally stilled, her breath coming in ragged gasps. My name, whispered in a huskyvoice laden with satisfaction, was the sweetest sound I'd ever heard.

With a final kiss to her inner thigh, I slid up next to her, pulling her into my arms. Her body was limp, sated exhaustion rolling off of her in waves that soon gave way to sleep. I held her close, nuzzling into her dark hair and breathing her in.

“Sleep, love,” I murmured softly. “I’ve got you.”

“Wait. What about you?”

“I’ll live,” I said.

Her dark eyes looked up at me, glazed with satisfaction, but tinted with concern. "You sure?" She asked, her fingers tracing a lazy circle on my chest.

I nodded, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Positive."

She closed her eyes, started to drift off to sleep. I wanted to fuck her—I always wanted her. But I was already exhausted and not having full use my of legs certainly made things more difficult for me. Even in bed.

But the truth was, it wasn’t about me. It never was. From the moment she walked into my life, it was always about Adriana.

She had been through so much – our losses, our fears, the burden of her pregnancy while navigating through the perilous waters of our world. She was incredibly strong, yet so impossibly soft underneath. I wanted to make her feel cherished, loved and adored in every possible way. And if that meant putting my own satisfaction on hold for a while, then so be it.

But maybe…maybe now that we were here, everything would be okay.

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