I rode him hard, harder than I’d ever ridden a man before, with more energy and excitement than I’d ever thought possible. What happened to me? How and why did I give myself to him like that? With complete abandon.
At that point, while his cock filled me to the brim—I didn’t even care what he thought of me. What’d happen next. All I wanted to do was to experience an orgasm with him inside me.
And I wouldn’t have to wait long for it because Tristian brought his fingers down on my clit, rubbing and stroking me almost tenderly while I bounced on him, taking him in. Deeper and deeper.
When he touched my clit like that, I knew it was game over for me. He knew exactly what to do to make me lose whatever ounce of control I had.
I cried out his name, shuddering against him, tightening my grip on him as I came. I fell on him as I reached the pinnacle, kissing his shoulders and neck while he exploded inside me too.
It was the moment I’d waited for.
I’d waited to feel him give himself to me. The way I’d given myself to him already.
We came together. Rising and falling, exhaling and inhaling ruggedly, no holds barred.
When we were done, I sank into him, with his cock still deep inside me. He was still hard. My toes were still curled from the force of my orgasm. I’d never experienced anything like it before.
After a few moments of being wrapped up together, I dared to look up at him. A little bit afraid of what I might see in his eyes. Would he reject me again?
He brushed his fingers on my face, tracing the shape of my nose, then my lips, down my chin and neck. There were so many words bursting to fall through my lips. Words I knew could completely change the course of our relationship.
Somehow, I managed to hold them back. I said nothing. Tristian stared down at me like he expected me to say something, but when I didn’t, he pulled himself out of me.
Damn. I felt something right then. An indescribable need to pull him back in, suck him right into my pussy again. I wanted to claim him. I wanted him to claim me. Make me his.
I knew I was falling for him, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.
The damage was already done.
Twelve
Tristian
It wasn’t just about the sex.
That part was fun. That part was animalistic and instinctual. It was just fucking. We channeled it through our bodies.
Well, Elsie’s was flawless. I wanted to touch and explore every curve, every shape and angle, the dimples on her ass, the chocolatey shade of her nipples, the smooth olive complexion of her perfect skin.
But it wasn’t just about Elsie’s body that made me feel the way I felt. It was because I wanted to hold her. I wanted to be inside her even after I was done coming. I’d already emptied my load in her and for some reason, I wasn’t in a hurry to pull away.
Eventually, I was able to jerk out of the trance-like state I was in.
I helped her roll off me and I stood up and put on my clothes.
I was mad at myself for giving in. I was frustrated I hadn’t been able to keep it in my pants.
I mean—if I really wanted to fuck someone, I could’ve gone out and found a chick anywhere. I could’ve called anybody. It wasn’t like I’d have to spend any time trying to find some chick to bang.
But it wasn’t just some chick.
I wanted to specifically bang Elsie, and this wasn’t a problem I had to deal with many times in my life before.
The last time my interest was caught by a particular girl, it was Christie, and I never wanted a repeat of that experience again. I’d been so careful up until this point, and somehow I had managed to let that control slip for Elsie.
And I completely blamed her for it.
She was still naked, curled up on the couch, watching me as I dressed myself.
Isabelle’s words rang in my ears—she’d asked me if I’d kept treating Elsie badly because of my past. And the answer was, probably.
I wouldn’t have cared if I wasn’t attracted to her. If she didn’t seem so perfect. But now all I thought about was Christie and how she had fucked me over.
I hated anyone and anything that reminded me of Christie, and now I wanted to hate Elsie.
I wanted to hate her, but I didn’t know if I could. That frustrated me even more. What the fuck was going on?
“I’m going to sleep, you should get some rest too,” I said coldly, walking out of the room. Leaving the TV on, the bowl of half-eaten popcorn on the floor, cans of beer strewn all over the place. I didn’t give a shit.
I didn’t even look at her as I left. I just wanted to get out of there. Put some distance between us.
I didn’t want to be around Elsie while I thought about Christie and everything that’d gone wrong that night.
I should’ve known something was wrong when Christie kept looking over my shoulder as I walked towards her that night at Brambley Park.
She still wore the same clothes I’d seen her in the morning. Her hair was golden and shiny as it lay on both her shoulders.
I was too young and inexperienced and didn’t know what to say as I approached her.
“Are you cold?” I asked, forcing myself to make words with my mouth. She shook her head vigorously, holding her hand out to me.
I was on top of the moon.
I didn’t think we’d be moving this fast. She wanted me to touch her already? I couldn’t believe my luck.
So I grabbed her hand and we walked. I’d forgotten about my bike already, and I had no idea how she came to the
