Forbidden Bride - Penny Wylder Page 0,9

and again until I’m moaning, trying to keep myself quiet because the bathroom echoes.

I almost cry when he releases me from his mouth and lifts my dress so I can see his face again. Fuck, he’s hot. Hotter than I remember. It’s the same thought that entered my mind when I first saw him in the focus room, and I think it again now. Hell, I’ll probably think it every time I see him. He’s beautiful, and like that saying, only getting finer with age.

It’s never bothered me that we’re so far apart in age. Despite what people might think, I’ve never felt like it was that great a distance. But that doesn’t make it safe. Especially if my father finds out.

“How close are you?” he asks. The gravel in his voice is that much sexier, and a new burst of wetness forms between my legs.

“Close,” I gasp.

He grins with a knowing smile. “Don’t hold yourself back,” he says, running his palms up the inside of my thighs. “I’m going to taste you until I’ve had my fill, no matter how many times you come.”

I have to close my eyes, the words sticking clear through my chest. Oh fuck.

Tristan isn’t cautious now, his mouth consumes me entirely. He told me not to hold back, and so he’s not going to either. Every pull of his mouth sends me higher, and I’m so close that I’m going to lose it. A quick flurry of strokes on my clit clouds my mind with ecstasy, and I gasp, suddenly grabbing his hair with one of my hands.

It’s an instinct to pull him closer. I don’t want him to ever release me. One stroke after another on the underside of my clit, and white-hot fire explodes through me. I cover my mouth with my hand, muffling my cry as my orgasm fills my veins and makes me shake.

I’ve never had an orgasm like this before, all-consuming and feeling like it never wants to end. The pleasure from it is sharp. It cuts a line between before and after, and I know immediately that I’ll never be able to go back.

But just like he promised, Tristan isn’t finished with my pussy. He doesn’t stop, teasing his tongue around my clit and making me shake more before licking down to my entrance. “You taste so good,” he says, barely dipping his tongue inside me in the most intimate caress. “And you have no idea how badly I want to fuck you with my tongue. But the first thing that you’ll feel inside you is my cock. And after that…” the words hang in the air with sinful promise. That he’ll fuck me with his fingers. And his tongue. And anything else that he chooses. Because I’ll be his.

The possibility yaws open in front of me, and I can’t ignore how badly I want that to happen, and how complicated it would be to make it real. I remember clearly that I told Tristan I knew what I wanted, no matter my age. But he was right, too. Now that I’m a few years older, I realize that this isn’t simple. Even if I want it to be.

Tristan grazes his teeth across my clit, and my knees start to shake. If he keeps this up I’m going to fall on the floor and never be able to get back up. My breath is coming in heaving gasps, and I’m so sensitive, so stimulated, that I’m right on the edge again, hanging in that space before and after pleasure where all you have to feel is the rippling echoes of it.

He rolls my clit between hips lips and uses his teeth again, the contrasting sensation against his tongue shocks me like lightning. I go over again, tumbling headlong into brightness, my gasps echoing off the bathroom walls. Tristan’s hands ride up my thighs to my hips, fingers digging into my ass and holding me still while he plunders me, carrying through the second round of breathless pleasure with ease.

No matter what the complications between us, this is one hell of a birthday present. Fuck, I think again. I’m fucked. And I can’t even deny that I want to be fucked. By him and only him. Little spasms run through my body, and I can’t control them. Can barely find a way to open my eyes. But when I do, Tristan is looking at me. His mouth is still locked against my skin, that delicious suction making it impossible