Page 24 of Absinthe Dreams
I don't think she'd object, not with the way she's watching me like she intends to memorize every moment of this. I nip at her inner thigh before carefully placing her leg back on the bed.
"You tease," she groans.
"No." I run my hands up her sides, all the way to the lacy edge of her bra. "I fully intend to give you exactly what you want, but not before you're naked and dripping all over the bed for me." My teeth close around her nipple through her bra, earning a soft cry from her lips. "You don't get to rush me now that I finally have you where I want you."
"Fine," she groans. "Do your worst."
"As if I need permission." I do, actually, but she's already given me that. So I do all those things I've wanted to do for years. I run my hands all over her until she's trembling. Pull her bra off so slowly she threatens to murder me.
I push her perfect tits together, burying my face between them. A motherfucker could die right here and not regret it. But I'll be damned if I die waiting to feel her coming all over my cock.
I turn my head slightly, pulling one hard pink nipple into my mouth.
She cries out, back bowing from the bed.
I lick and bite until she's sobbing beneath me, babbling incoherently and tugging at my hair like she isn't sure if she wants to keep me right there or push me lower. I stay for a while, tormenting her while my hand drifts down her round belly. My fingertips slide beneath the waistband of her panties, sliding across her mound.
Jesus, she's bare. Nothing between me and her pussy.
"Trystan!" she shouts, shocked, when I twist the string in my hand, tearing her panties.
I flick my gaze up to her face, holding hers captive while I intentionally do the same goddamn thing to the other side.
"I liked those," she says.
"Too bad. I like you out of them." I rake my teeth across her nipple, earning another whimper from her kiss-swollen lips. I can tell she wants to argue, though. Chloe always wants to fucking argue. It's who she is. She was born with her attitude fully formed, unwilling to take orders or bow to anyone. Even as a kid, she was a handful. And I've fucking loved it since long before I understood why I found her so fascinating.
"You don't get to boss me in bed, Trystan," she finally manages to gasp.
"Boss you?" I smirk, running my lips down her belly. "No, baby. I'm not going to boss you. I'm going to ruin you."
"Trystan," she groans.
"You already ruined me." I nip at her lower belly and then rake my teeth down it as I fit myself between her legs, shouldering my way into place where I belong—on my fucking knees at the gates of heaven.
Her pretty pussy is right there in my face—dripping, pink, bare, and untouched. I smell her desire, sweeter than the grapes on the vines at home, headier than the finest wine in our collection—and I want to spread her wide and devour her. Not nice and sweet and slow, but pillage and conquer and fucking consume.
I've waited so long for this. So fucking long.
"I…" Her gaze bounces from mine, her throat working. "Um, I've never…"
Oh, fuck me.
She's been waiting for me, too.
I've always suspected that she'd never been with anyone else, but the confirmation hits my system like a goddamn drug.
I want to thank God and howl at the same damn time. So many years when we could have had this, been this,donethis. When she could have said fuck it and chosen someone else. But shedidn't. She waited for me, the same way I would have waited for her until my last breath.
There is no holding back or taking it slow now. Hell, no.
I'm a beast snapping his chains, snarling at the feast laid before him. I yank her into me, burying myself face-first in her pussy.
"Trystan!" she shouts, grabbing for my hair with both hands.
As soon as her taste—sweet, tangy perfection—hits my system, it's all over. I want every drop, and I want it now.
I spread her wide, licking and sucking like a madman. She shouts and trembles andmoans. Goddamn, the way she moans. I want it to be the last thing I hear before I leave this earth.
