In the Arms of the Elite (Rich Boys of Burberry Prep #4) - C.M. Stunich Page 0,89

my lips with his. Our tongues tangle, and I find that I can't breathe without pulling his essence into me.

“Hear what?” I whisper back, still shaking. “What exactly are we doing here?”

“You know exactly what we're doing,” Tristan tells me, and then his hand slips into my panties and his fingers dance over my wetness, making my knees buckle. He just barely manages to catch me with an arm around the waist, licking and nipping at my lower lip as his fingers work my already aching body into a frenzy.

He clearly knows what he's doing. Jealousy flares hot inside of me as I throw my arms around his neck and kiss him back hard enough to make him cringe slightly.

“Oh no, did I nick you?” I ask, and Tristan draws back just enough to give me this awful, awful little cocksure smile.

“That's what I'm talking about, Marnye. Show me some teeth.” Tristan removes his hand from under my skirt, and I can't decide if I want to kill him or if I'm grateful for the reprieve. Pretty sure I was just about to … “Let's go.”

He takes me by the wrist, leaving our stuff all laid out across the table. On our way across the massive expanse of the library, we run into Creed, lazily dragging himself across the room with his hands tucked into his pockets, ice-colored eyes half-lidded and bored senseless.

When he sees us, he opens them wide and his jaw drops.

“Watch our stuff, Cabot. Keep the Harpy claws off of it.”

“Are you serious?!” Creed shouts as we move past him, and I can hear him cursing under his breath as he watches us slip into the beautiful old bathroom with the vintage hexagon and subway tiles.

Tristan heels the door shut behind him and locks it while I stand there wondering if maybe I've lost my mind.

“What are we doing in here, Tristan?” I ask as he grabs me and sets me on the edge of the counter, leaning in so he can run his tongue across my lower lip.

“Satisfying your curiosity,” he whispers, and I raise an eyebrow.

“My curiosity?” I ask as he slides one hand down the curve of my waist, over my hip, and under my skirt. His second hand joins the first, and I realize I'm about to lose my underwear.

He smirks at me and then drops his hands to the garters holding my socks up, popping the clips and making me groan as he rubs his thumbs against my inner thighs. Each touch is like fire; each touch burns.

“Stop torturing me.”

“Why should I? That's my MO, right? I'm the big, bad bully.” Tristan pulls my panties down and over my socks and shoes, tucking them into his blazer pocket. He slides his palms up my thighs and cups my ass, making me groan. “I'm going to torture you mercilessly, and I'm going to love every second of it. Just know that.”

He tugs me forward, so that I'm more or less wrapped around him, and then drops his hand between us, slicking his fingers against my aching body. Our eyes lock, and I can see his confidence, his need for control, just before he slips one in, and I gasp.

“Oh shit, Marnye,” he groans, licking his lips. “You feel even better than I thought.”

“You thought about it?” I whisper, and the way he smiles at me … I can see that he's thought about it quite a bit. Our mouths meet, and this time, the kiss is much more tender than it was before, less of a violent claiming and more of a careful wanting. A tentative need. An unsatisfied desire.

Tristan works me so expertly that I can barely move, my hands trembling as I try to undo the button on his slacks. He pushes my fumbling attempt aside and undoes his fly one-handed, like a total boss, guiding my fingers in to wrap around him.

We're just staring at each other now, and it should be embarrassing, but somehow … it's not. It's everything I wanted and then some.

There's a knock at the door, and we both ignore it.

“They can piss somewhere else,” he growls, kissing me again. The heat between us amps up, and I feel myself giving in finally, losing everything I am and everything I have to Tristan Vanderbilt.

I knew it. I knew it from the very first second that he would rearrange me as a human being. How, why, I'm not sure. There's just something between us, this indefinable spark