Forbidden Bride - Penny Wylder Page 0,16

happiness. We both do.

Tristan pulls up to a gorgeous townhouse near Leighton City’s downtown, and I’m so eager to get inside that I almost beat him to the door. “I would have opened your door for you,” he says, pressing a kiss to my neck before he unlocks the door.

“I’m perfectly capable of opening a door by myself, Dash.”

“I know you are, but as long as you’re with me, I would like the honor of it.”

I raise an eyebrow as I follow him inside. “That’s a little old-fashioned.”

He grins. “I am a little old-fashioned. Now come here.” Without warning he yanks my body against his, pushing my coat off of my shoulders. And then I’m being lifted into his arms as his mouth crashes on mine. Nerves play in my gut as he carries me up the stairs. I’ve always been sure of this—of Tristan. I am not afraid of him, but I am nervous for this. Isn’t everyone, for their first time?

Pushing the bedroom door open with his foot, we enter a bright and open space. There were moving boxes downstairs, so I know that he’s not fully settled. But there’s a bed, and it’s a fucking big one. It dominates the space with four posts and dark sheets. God, I’ve never thought this about a piece of furniture, but that bed is sexy as hell.

But Tristan doesn’t put me down on it, not yet. Instead he sets me down slowly, letting my body drag down his before my feet touch the floor. Everything hangs in the air between us, ready to break. I want everything from him.

Everything.

“Kiss me,” I whisper, and that’s all it takes to make him break.

Tristan’s mouth crashes down on mine with unyielding fire. This kiss is different from all the others. He’s not holding back and neither am I. For the first time I actually get to feel his body under my hands in the way I’ve always wanted to, and I can’t enough.

His body is hard in every place that I can reach, and we’re locked together so tightly that I can feel just how hard his cock is through his clothes. There’s absolutely no doubt that he wants this just as much as I do. I find the hem of his shirt with my fingers and pull it out of his pants. My fingers are shaking as I try to undo the buttons down his chest, because I’m desperate to feel him closer. Hotter.

One of them gets stuck, and I have to pull my mouth away from his to try to undo it. But Tristan is already a step ahead of me, and the fabric between my hands is torn apart. I hear the buttons bounce across the floor, and his chest is suddenly bare in front of me. Holy shit.

It’s been a long time since I’ve seen Dash without a shirt. I remember him in the summertime, either doing yard work or by the pool, showing off his perfect, incredible body. And now it’s mine. The strength in those arms that can just tear open a shirt. Fuck, I’m wet for him. “Do that again,” I say.

“I’m all out of shirts,” he says, voice rough with the lust we’re both feeling.

“But I’m not.”

Tristan’s gaze falls to my chest, and he goes still. Like he’s suddenly realizing the magnitude of this moment too. And then his hands are on my shirt and he tears down the buttons like he’s ripping a piece of paper. He pushes the shirt off my shoulders and all that’s left is my lacy bra. Until he reaches around and deftly unhooks that too.

I let my bra drop to the floor, and then I realize what that means. I look down and away from him. This is a line we’ve never crossed, and even though his mouth was on my clit just yesterday, the idea of him seeing this part of me feels scary. More intimate.

He tilts my chin up so that I’m looking at him again, and kisses me softly. “You are beautiful,” he says. “And I hope you know how much I want you. But if you have any hesitation at all, I need you to tell me.”

“No,” I say. “I want this. It’s just…”

“I know.”

I step out of my shoes, and I’m a little shorter now. But I don’t mind. I’m the one who pushes my skirt off my hips so I’m standing there in just my panties. I need to do this for myself.

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