AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He stares back at me in disbelief without saying a word, which is pretty much what I expected. This is so unlike me; he’s probably wondering if Tristan has brainwashed me.
I don’t wait for his reaction before continuing, “I know it’s crazy, but I agree with him. It’s the best way for me to see if being a submissive is really for me.”
“I only care about one thing.” Jorge is blunt. “Are you happy?”
“Yes.” I can feel the smile spread across my face when I answer. “I am. I can’t explain it. Learning to submit and entrusting him with…everything. It’s…um…”
“Orgasmic,” Jorge jests.
“I mean, yes.” I laugh. “That, too.”
“That’s all I care about.” He squeezes my hand.
Finn throws back another shot of whiskey and slams his shot glass on the table. Everyone jokes about the way Irishmen can drink, but damn, if these boys don’t prove it.
Finn, Conor, Liam, and Declan have been tossing back shots since Jorge left. Enough that had I been drinking with them, I would have passed out hours ago. They’re loud and a little more rambunctious than earlier, but they otherwise seem to have their wits about them.
Tristan takes a sip of the glass before him and slides me from his lap, where I’ve been sitting all evening. “I think it’s time I get you out of here before these blokes get out of hand.
“Try not to get in too much trouble.” He garners the attention of his brothers as they pour another round of shots. “I’m going to take the Tahoe.”
The moment he climbs into the SUV with me, he bunches my dress into my lap to place his hand directly on my thigh. He holds it with a firm gentleness as he drives.
“How did you like being watched?” he asks as his hand roams a little higher on my thigh. I hesitate to answer, worried that my honesty will upset him. When I don’t answer he nudges, “It’s okay that you liked it, mo cuishle. If I weren’t okay with them watching, I never would have corrected you in front of them.”
“It’s taboo…” I answer lightly. “Everything I’ve ever been told about sex is that it’s private. Having them watch feels wrong, but in a way that’s exciting.”
Tristan pulls into a parking garage. We drive up the levels in silence until we reach the top floor and pull into a reserved parking spot. He turns off the car and gives my thigh a gentle squeeze. “That’s what I wanted to hear.”
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
LAYLA
Tristan swipes an access card over a panel to the private elevator beside the parking spot. When the doors open, he ushers me inside and presses me against the cold, metal wall as he taps the button for his floor. He lifts my hands above my head as he pins me to the wall with his body.
“You did so good for me today,” he groans against the side of my neck as he lifts my leg over his hip. He sucks along my neck until I’m moaning and grinding my hips against him. “Patience, mo cuishle.”
The elevator doors open, prompting Tristan to lower my leg and release my hands. We step from the cab into a lavish apartment overlooking all of Manhattan. Windows account for the majority of the outside walls, putting nearly every inch of his apartment on display to the outside world.
My sandals click against the grayish-brown wood floors that appear to span the entire apartment. The walls are either painted a sandy taupe or soft gray, coordinating with the furniture, window fixtures, and area rugs that fill the space. It’s crisp and clean, with a distinctly masculine feel.
“Make yourself at home.” He gives a tender swat on my ass. “I’ll join you in a second.
Tristan disappears down the hall to our right as I walk further into the apartment. My fingers dust over the back of the sofa when I walk past. Like a moth to a flame, I am drawn to the terrace on the other side of the windows.
Letting myself outside, I am surprised to find it’s nearly as large as my entire apartment. The décor outside mimics that of the inside, with slate-colored tiles and furniture adorned with cream cushions. Traversing the terrace, I pass a gas fire pit with a handful of chairs circling it, a few scattered chairs arranged for private conversations, and a chaise made for two as I make my way toward the glass railing.
Leaning against it with the light breeze blowing against my face, I take in the magnificent view of the moonlit city skyline.
“I thought this was where I’d find you.” Tristan places his hands beside mine on the rail as he cages me in.
“This is just amazing,” I exhale.
He pulls the spaghetti strap of my dress off my shoulder and replaces it with his lips. Peppering kisses over my skin, he gravelly whispers, “I liked when you called me Sir today.”
His lips continue to trail over my neck as he removes the other strap, his hot breath teasing my skin. “You want to be a good girl for your sir, don’t you?”
“Yes,” I swallow hard, feeling his fingers tug as the small zipper that runs up the back of my dress, knowing that when he does, I’ll be left bare before the city.
