Page 87 of Bloody Vows
Before a single thought can even enter my head, I’m asleep, insensible to everything around me as the exhaustion drags me under.
—
I wake up hours later,after it’s already dark, groggy and tingling from a dream about Tristan. A dream about what he did to me last night, in this room.
I can feel that I’m wet. My thighs squeeze together, and before I can think better of it, my hand glides down and pushes up the hem of my sundress, up to my hips. I’m wearing nothing under it but a thin, silky thong, and it’s easy to push it aside, parting my slick folds as my fingers glide between them up to my aching clit.
I remember Tristan taking off my panties last night, balling them up in his fist, shoving them into the pocket of his suit trousers. A pulse of arousal throbs through me at the thought of him somewhere, right now, with my thong wrapped around his cock, stroking himself to the memory of his fingers inside me, his tongue on me, his length filling me until there was nothing but him.
God, it felt so fucking good—I reach down with my other hand, one foot dropping to the floor as I slide two fingers into myself, my other hand focused on my clit. I tilt my head back, images from last night flooding my head—Tristan still in his suit, his mouth between my thighs, hovering over me, his face taut with lust as he thrusts into me. The expression there when I teased him, clenched around him—I do the same around my fingers, imagining it, wishing there wasmore. For the first time, I let myself fantasize about my husband, let myself forget about all the rancor and arguments, and once again let myself justfeel.
When I do that—god. It’s incredible.
My lips part on a moan, my back arching as I abandon my clit just long enough to tug the bodice of my sundress and the cups of my bra down, freeing my small breasts. The chill of the air-conditioning tightens my nipples instantly, and I imagineTristan’s mouth on them, his tongue flicking over the stiff peaks as I stroke my clit again, slowly at first and then in tight circles.
I try to mimic his pace, his touch, my mind full of everything we did last night as I push myself closer and closer to the edge. I’m so close, so unbearably close, and all I need is for it to be him inside of me, him groaning my name as I?—
The thought of my name on Tristan’s lips as he thrusts into me sends me spilling over the edge. My mouth falls open in a cry,hisname coming out as I come hard, fluttering around my thrusting fingers as my entire body clenches with pleasure. My back arches, pillows spilling to the floor as I buck and writhe on the couch, desperately wanting it to behimthat I’m coming with, coming for.
And then, as quickly as the pleasure hits me, it recedes. I come back to myself, realize where I am, and how easily someone could have walked in on me. My face flushes hot, and I yank my hands away, dragging my skirt down as I sit up quick enough to make myself dizzy for a moment.
Tristancould have walked in on me. My face flushes deeper, embarrassment burning through me… and something else, too.
A part of me thinks I wouldn’t have minded so much if he had.
If my husband knew that, despite everything, I’m starting to want him as much as he wants me.
22
TRISTAN
The meeting with Konstantin runs longer than expected, and by the time I get home, the sun is setting behind the Miami skyline. My head is spinning with contingency plans and worst-case scenarios, but underneath it all is a constant thread of worry about Simone. The incident on the beach today was too close, too brazen. Sal is getting bolder, which means he's getting either more confident in his plans or more desperate.
Either way, it spells trouble for me. Forus.
I find Simone in the main living room when I return, curled up on the end of one forest-green couch with a book in her lap. She’s staring at it, but as I watch her, her eyes don’t move. She’s not really reading it, and I wonder if what happened this afternoon shocked her more than she wants to admit.
My wife is tough. Stubborn. Strong. All things that are making me grudgingly respect her more and more, even if she drives me absolutely insane. She’d never admit if what happened upset her, but the thought of it, for some reason, makes me want to go to her. Makes me want to pull her into my arms, stroke her hair, and promise her that I’ll protect her.
I’m starting to doubt even myself, though. I did my best to protect her today, without trapping her, which I knew would only make things worse between us right when I was starting to see a sliver of light after last night. I sent some of my best men with her, but someone still got close.
I had half a mind to fire every single one of them or worse, but I know mistakes can be made. The man looked harmless. I might have made the same error.
No one is perfect. Least of all me.
I’ve made mistakes with her. I can admit that. Mistakes I’d like to put right, to give us a chance, because last night made me feel things that terrified me. Things that made me wonder if I need to put distance between us, just so that something other than my patience doesn’t break because of my wife.
I’ve never felt any emotion for any woman I’ve ever been with. Nothing but lust. Never anything deeper. But with Simone…
Last night, I wanted more than sex. I wantedher. I wanted her to open up to me, to be vulnerable with me, to give me something of herself that she’d never given anyone else that was more than just her body. And I tried to open up to her, too.
This morning, I woke up wanting to lie there with her in my arms forever. I left as quickly as I did because the thought scared the shit out of me.
I don’t know if she knows that I’m standing here or not, but she doesn’t look up at me. I push away from the doorframe, striding toward my office as I message Vitto to send me the day’s security footage. It’s not that I don’t trust the men that I have stationed here at the estate, but after what happened, I want to be absolutely sure that there’s nothing they missed.
I go through the footage of the entire estate, inside and out, noticing nothing out of place. I run through all of it until Simone came home, and pause, on the verge of closing out of it andcalling it a day. It’s already past dinner, and I’m sure Simone has gone up to her room by now. I’m a little disappointed she didn’t try to come find me.
Just as I’m about to close out of the screen, I notice something in one of the frames, a few hours after I left. The first ones show Simone napping in the small sitting room on that damned couch, a sight that makes my cock twitch just remembering what we did there last night. But a little while after…
