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“You always look beautiful, no matter how brightly adorned you are,” he told her, settling between her thighs, his erection hot and heavy against the crotch seam of her leggings.
He kissed her and she sighed in contentment, opening her mouth for his tongue and languidly returning his kiss, stroke for stroke. Her hands burrowed beneath his black Nirvana T-shirt, finding the smooth, taut skin beneath and exploring the perfect musculature of his back and chest.
“You’re beautiful too,” she whispered after he let her up for a breath. She ran her lips over his freshly shaved jaw, and sighed as his stubble scraped against the sensitive skin around her mouth.
“Why’d you shave?” she asked and he lifted his head at the question, his gaze probing.
“Don’t you like it?” He sounded genuinely dismayed at the prospect and she laughed softly.
“Trystan, you have to know you’re gorgeous with or without the beard. I’d just grown used to it, and I felt like it was a version of you only I got to see. This Trystan is instantly recognizable and beloved by millions?—”
“Fuck the millions,” he interrupted harshly. “I’d rather be beloved by one.”
“But that’s not your reality.”
“It is if that one is the only one who truly matters to me.”
Chapter Fourteen
Trystan’s words confused her, maybe even scared her a little, and she ran her fingers through his silky hair, still much longer than he usually wore it—at least that was still hers alone. She kissed his beautiful, stubborn jaw, and ran her tongue up the line of his scar.
He tensed.
“Every part of you is beautiful, Trystan,” she murmured against his mouth. “Inside and out.”
He exhaled, a soft, shuddering sound that resembled a sob, and his kiss was filled with reverence.
“I adore you,” he whispered, peppering her neck with gentle, lingering kisses. He unhurriedly dragged her T-shirt up, and those same kisses followed the trail of exposed skin, starting at her belly button and moving up over her torso, skirting around her bra, just skimming over the skin above the lacy cups before he whisked her shirt up and away.
Then he knelt between her legs and simply stared at her for a long, long time. His eyes falling to her balconette bra, where her dark nipples were beaded and visible through the white lace. He swallowed loudly, his chest starting to visibly heave as his large hands moved to completely engulf those small mounds. Her nipples scraped against the lace of her bra as the weight of his large hands settled on her breasts and she cried out at the unbearable sensation.
His lips quirked wickedly as he thumbed aside the lace of one cup and exposed her breast to his lascivious gaze.
“Fuck me, you’re gorgeous,” he groaned, lowering his head until she could feel his warm breath on the puckered tip of that breast. “You have the prettiest little tits. I need to taste them, to suck these tempting dark brown peaks into my mouth. I want to swallow them down, scrape them with my teeth, bite them, suck them, fucking devour them…”
God, if words could make her come, those ones would… she was panting by now, thrusting her chest toward that achingly close mouth, needing him to do what he said he wanted to do.
“Please,” she begged, her hands trying to tug his head down toward her chest. “Trystan, please, please… do that.”
“Do what, baby?” he asked sweetly, and she glowered at him.
“The kissing and biting and devouring,” she said, and he chuckled before lowering his mouth to her breast and sucking her nipple into his mouth.
It was so wonderful that Iris nearly came out of her skin.
“Aah, my God, please, more.” She felt his lips widening into a smile, before he increased the suction, adding just the smallest scrape of his teeth to the sensation. The top of Iris’s head just about blew off, her back bowed as she tried to push herself closer, and she frantically rubbed her clit against his hardness, wanting so much more than this, while at the same time finding just this to be exactly the right amount of stimulation to set off a bone melting orgasm.
Her breath caught and held in her chest for a long fraught moment as her climax washed over her in a tsunami of sensation.
Trystan groaned when he recognized what was happening to her and he shuddered while she came against his cock with his mouth clamped over her nipple. When she finally went limp, he lifted his lips from the distended nub and removed her bra wordlessly, chucking it aside before tugging her leggings and sodden panties down her limp legs.
He quickly removed his own shirt and sweatpants and his cock landed, hot and heavy and naked against her thigh.
That was when he froze.
“Fuck,” he said, along with a few other things that turned the air blue, and Iris blinked up at him in hazy confusion.
“What’s wrong?”
