Page 69 of Corrupt Me

A slight burn ached between my legs, but it was accompanied by a twist of pleasure. “I’m okay. I promise. Tell me what to do.”

“Just keep doing what you’re doing. What feels good to you.”

He made it sound so simple.

I pulled his lips back to mine.

Would I ever be able to forget the taste of him? Tristan was like a forbidden fruit dangling on a tree in front of me after being starved for days. I’d risk death to have a single bite, and as much as I longed to forget the events that unfolded tonight, I was starting to think Tristan might do permanent damage.

Maybe I was a girl who couldn’t be intimate without feelings getting tangled up. Wanting this to just be sex didn’t make it just sex. We had too much history, and even knowing I was putting my fragile heart on the line, I couldn’t…wouldn’t stop.

My hips rolled, testing the feel of Tristan inside of me. He groaned into my mouth, his tongue gliding ravenously against mine as he responded to the demand of my kiss. Tentative liftingof hips swiftly turned into thrusts, sending a flurry of heated sensations through me.

I marveled at how my body stretched, and with it, the pain subsided, leaving me with only maddening pleasure.

Each meeting of our hips sent him a bit deeper, and it was as if he touched the depths of my soul. I felt him everywhere, a connection I never fathomed. He let me set the pace, following the rocking movement of my hips, pulling in and out of me with such torturous slowness I had no room for doubts—only the buzzing of my body as I raced toward the edge.

I didn’t stop. I didn’t hesitate. I didn’t overthink.

I fucking jumped.

And then I was soaring.

Stars and sparkles of unimaginable pleasure devoured me, but with it came an unexpected surge of emotions. Overwhelmingly so. They took me by surprise, tears swelling in my eyes.

Don’t you dare cry. You’re not going to be one of those girls who sobs after an orgasm.

It wasn’t just the indescribable trembles. It was everything. Preston. The other girl. My mom. My absent father.

They all crashed together.

And then there was Tristan.

Tristan. Tristan. Fucking Tristan.

God, I could so easily lose my heart to him. I didn’t want to admit it, but he had been right. Sleeping with him had been a dangerous endeavor.

I fell a little more in love with him as the crescendo slowly faded.

I had to stop pretending what I felt for Tristan was only a crush. I’d been falling for years. The intimacy we’d just shared only solidified my feelings a bit more.

Why did I feel so pathetic suddenly? So sad? So fucking alone?

And what the fuck was that noise?

twenty-one

Pound. Pound. Pound.

The noise sounded again. Louder. With more force, determination, and impatience.

This time, Tristan heard it, his body tensing against mine. His breath like mine slowly returned to normal, but as his eyes swung to me, a shade of suspicion clouded in them. “Did you tell anyone we were here?” he asked roughly.

I shook my head. “No. I mean, I texted Sam to let her know I wouldn’t be home tonight, but I didn’t tell her where I was, just that we were together. I think.”

Dark brows shot up as he disengaged our bodies. “You think?”

The pang of anguish rooted deeper in my stomach at the loss of his closeness. “I can check my phone if you want.” I glanced around the room, trying to remember where the fuck I’d put my phone.

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