Page 66 of Top Scorer
Personally, I’m fascinated by my baby bump, but I wouldn’t call it attractive. I’ve never been a supermodel, obviously. I’m definitely not as tall and skinny as the woman who slid up and pressed her body against Tristan at the bar. But I can usually rock a thong. Today, I’ve got the Kevlar-strength support undies to smooth out my silhouette. It isn’t sexy, that’s for sure.
“Can you turn off the light?” I ask.
“Why? Don’t you want to see me?”
I guffaw at his false humility. “Tristan, you know you’ve got the body of an athlete and the cock of a porn star. Don’t be coy.”
“You think I have the cock of a porn star?”
“Not the point. Just turn it down, please. I . . . I don’t look the same. I’ve got this bump that—”
“You have a baby bump? Can I see it? Please?”
“Seriously?”
“Please,” he pleads softly, as if in awe.
I stand and offer my back to him, a silent invitation to unzip my dress. With a tender swipe of my hair to one side, Tristan exposes my right shoulder and my neck. His hot mouth kisses my skin, interspersed with the slightest graze of teeth.
“These have been tempting me all night,” he whispers while moving his hands under my breasts and squeezing. He’s tall with long limbs, so Tristan works my body from behind me, his hard cock on my back while his fingers roam all over my torso from my breasts to my wet center.
“You have the best tits.”
“They’re much more tender now,” I admit. “So sensitive.”
“I can’t wait to taste them again. Been dreaming of them, Ligaya. Been dreaming ofyou.”
He slides the zipper down. The dress pools at my feet. Tristan sits on the bed and places me between his knees so he’s eye level with my chest. Then, he dives in. Licking gently at first and then opening his lips to put as much of my flesh into his mouth as possible. He sucks and kisses. His tongue flicks against my diamond-hard nipples one at a time till I whine with a mix of pleasure and desperation.
“Use your words, sweetheart.”
“More. I need more, Tristan.”
“Then you’ll have to promise me something first.”
“Yes. Anything. Get my underwear off for me.” I push down at my control top underwear. “Ugh, it’s stuck!”
He holds my wrist still and forces our gazes to lock.
“I never want you to wear this ironclad abomination again. Our babies need to breathe, Ligaya. And I need to see the baby bump you promised me. When I take this off, I will throw it out the window, do you understand?”
“That’s littering.”
“OK, you’re right. It goes straight to the garbage.”
“You’re so bossy.”
“You have no idea.”
It takes both of us struggling to get the damn thing off. I’m sweating by the time I get naked. Unfortunately, the whole process was the farthest thing from seductive. They should put a warning on the underwear package: CONTROL TOP BONER BUSTER.
Except, when Tristan takes off his pants, he’s as hard as a steel pipe.
His eyes shimmer and his features convey determination. Tristan is irresistible like this, all corded muscle and heated touch. Fingers clench around my hips before spreading wide to grab my ass. The V that frames his engorged cock is as deep and defined as a ridge.
The man is a work of art.
“Get on the bed, Ligaya. I’m dying to worship your body. You’re perfect.”
