Page 128 of Captive Bride

Tristan

My heart beats frantically in my chest.

My hands move of their own volition.

I touch her everywhere.

I taste every inch of her.

Isobel is alive. She’s here with me now.

The thought still amazes me.

When I thought her lost, the entire world had ceased to exist. The world had stopped spinning; the sun had imploded in a rain of flames.

There was nothing, nothing left for me at all.

Now, touching her, my tongue greedily tasting her mouth, it’s like creation’s sprung up anew.

I see fucking universes in her eyes.

“Tristan,” she moans into my mouth.

“Isobel,” I return.

God, her name feels good on my tongue.

I lift her, and her legs wrap instinctively around my waist. I carry her to the nearest wall. Her back meets it with a dull thud, eliciting a small moan from her mouth.

“God, I love you,” I whisper, my lips grazing her ear.

Instead of responding with words, she reaches down, unzips me, and grabs my throbbing cock.

“Fuck me,” she moans. “Oh, please, fuck me now.”

I cave easily to her request, sliding her down so her pussy is where I need it to be.

Outside, sirens still wail, footsteps echo throughout the mansion.

I don’t care. I ignore it all completely.

The only thing that matters to me now is right in front of me, pressed hard against the wall, moaning my name in need.

I grab my cock with one hand, positioning myself before her. My eyes find hers, staring intently into them as I start to slide into her.

She moans louder, her body thrusting, trying to shove me inside herself faster.

“Slow down,” I whisper. “I promise, we have time.”

She nods in acknowledgment, but her eyes seem uncertain.

I suppose our time could be even shorter than I thought. Still, I refuse to not enjoy this. If this is my last night on earth, I’m going to drag it out for as long as possible.

I thrust slowly into her, savoring the feeling as each inch sinks into her dripping wet pussy. I look into her eyes the entire time, loving the way they widen the deeper I go.

She reaches up to grab my hair, her body tense with frustration.

“Please, Tristan.” she moans.

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