Page 66 of Bloody Vows
Tristan glares down at me, his face a tight mask of fury, jaw clenched as he speaks through his teeth. “Of course I was scared, Simone. You disappeared. Youran. And I found you cornered in the alley with a man who has done despicable things. You have no idea what kind of man Sal Envio is?—”
“I have some idea,” I mutter, and Tristan shakes me again.
“Why would you do such a fucking stupid thing, Simone?”
I try to yank myself out of his grip, anger flooding me again now that the danger has passed, but his hold on me is too strong. “Why? Because you put me on my fucking knees and forced me to suck you off!” I shout the words, not caring who hears, and Tristan blanches, his hand flying up to cover my mouth as he backs me against the side of the car, pinning me there briefly as he yanks open the car door. “You humiliated me! You hurt me! All you care about is making meobeyyou?—”
“Because when you don’t, this happens!” Tristan roars. I can feel the adrenaline still coursing through him, the way his body is vibrating with leftover energy from the fight. "Get in," he growls, practically shoving me into the back seat of his vehicle.
"Tristan—"
"Get in the fucking car, Simone."
I swallow hard. He’s overwhelming in this moment—possessive, angry, violent. I can feel a sharp, dangerous energy wafting off of him, surrounding me like a force field, and my own body responds to it the way Ialwaysseem to fucking respond to him, even when I shouldn’t.
I slide into the car, and Tristan is on the other side of me in an instant, slamming the door behind us. The driver doesn't need to be told where to go; he's already pulling out of the alley, heading for home.
“You almost died,” he snarls, turning to me. “That fucking piece of shit almost took you from me. All because youran, Simone?—”
“You’re making this my fault?” I shriek, not caring if the driver can hear, and Tristan glowers down at me, his rage a palpable thing.
“Itisyour fault! What were you going to do on your own? Where were you going to go? Did you have a plan?”
“I—”
“You didn’t. And that fucker almost stole what’s mine, because?—”’
“I’m not yours?—”
“Yes, you fucking are.”
“Because you stole?—”
I never finish what I was about to say. Tristan’s hands are on my arms, dragging me against him, and his mouth crashes down onto mine in a searing, plundering kiss as his tongue plunges into my mouth and every thought in my head is driven from it in an instant.
“Maybe I haven’t done a good enough job making you mine,” Tristan growls against my lips, his body pressing mine back against the leather seats of the Mercedes. “Maybe I need to remind you what it feels like.”
My head bumps against the window on one side as Tristan’s hand wraps around the back of my neck, his other hand dropping to the button of my jeans. I gasp against his mouth, writhing in his grip, my gaze shooting to the divider between us and the driver.
“The driver is going to hear?—”
“No, he won’t,” Tristan growls. “Because you never moan or scream for me, Simone. But go ahead,célie, if you don’t think you can keep it in this time. Moan and scream my name. Let him hear how badly you want me.Iwant to hear how badly you want me.”
“I don’t?—”
“Liar.” His eyes are hot on mine as his hand slides into my panties, his fingers finding my slick folds. “Yelling at me turns you on, Simone. Luckily for us both, it turns me on, too.”
He grabs my hand, pressing it between us, against the thick shape of his cock in his suit trousers. He’s rock hard, straining against the fabric, and his mouth covers mine again as hisfingers slip inside of me, thrusting hard as he grinds the heel of his hand against my clit.
“I haven’t fucked you since our wedding night,” he pants against my lips. “But I’m about to change that. I can’t wait another second to feel you wrapped around me again.”
His hips rock into my hand, driving that point home as he yanks my jeans down, all the way to my ankles, as he pushes my legs just far enough apart that he can get between them. I’m trapped—under his weight, his hands, the tangle of my clothes—and my heart beats hard, arousal flooding me at the situation I’ve found myself in. All I can feel is Tristan, all I can taste is him on my tongue, all I can smell is the heat of his skin and his spiced cologne, wrapped up with the warm scent of leather as he bats my hand away and frees his cock with a groan.
“You’re going to come on it,” he growls, angling his length into the narrow space between my thighs. “You’re going to come on my fucking cock before we get home, Simone, or we’re going to make the driver wait while I fuck you until you do.”
“I’m not—” I start to protest, to argue like I always do, but the words are stolen on a rush of air as his cock pierces me, thick and hard and stretching me around his length like it’s the first night all over again. There’s nothing soft or slow about the way he claims me—he drives into me, hard, sinking to the hilt with a ragged groan as my body clenches around him.
Tristan lets out a hiss of pleasure between his teeth, his hips rocking against mine so that he grinds against my clit. Sensation races through me, over my skin, making my nerves come alive with it as his mouth covers mine again, hard and punishing.
