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She moans, her eyes bouncing between mine. “I—I want you to bite me again. On your mark.”
Fuck. My balls draw up as my abdomen clenches, right on the edge just from the thought of tending her mark while she comes.
But I nod, gliding my hands down to palm her breasts and letting her stretch to give me access to the side of her throat. The second I latch onto her skin and start to suck, her pussy echoes my pulls, drawing me in hard.
“Tristan, yes! Oh God—please!”
With one rock of my hips, my knot is buried in her sweet heat, surrounded by slick, kneading muscles. Pleasure explodes through my base, up my back and down my straining thighs.
Serena comes, her inner walls fluttering and flexing while I spurt into her depths and clamp my teeth around her neck.
Absolute rightness flashes through my entire being. As if my entire life, every breath and every step has been for this. To get right here.
The same sensation reverberates through our bond, so strong the emotion doesn’t feel frayed at all.
chapter
fifty-eight
For the first time ever, I wake up in my nest.
It’s a relief, honestly.
The plants overhead absorb most of the sunlight glowing dimly behind the tinted dome above me. Above us.
Because Tristan is still here. Spooning me so thoroughly, there isn’t a single place we aren’t touching. Not one single place—because he’s also, still, very much inside me.
We fell asleep knotted together, but we aren’t anymore. Now, as he sleeps, the thick swell that locked us together has gone down. He’s still a semi-hard, weighty stretch in my pussy, though. Coated in a thin layer of my slick, with his balls nestled firm and heavy between my lower lips.
The second I snuggle back into him, solid arms flex around my body. “Mm,” he hums, voice rough with sleep. “Sweetest fucking thing. Good morning, baby.”
The way he rasps reminds me how loud we were last night. A flutter of chagrin flits through me while I hide my face against the nearest pillow. “Morning…”
It’s hard to stay embarrassed when the gentle glow of adoration rolls through him, funneling into me. He huddles closer, finding his mark and brushing a soft kiss over the fresh bruises layered on top.
An awkward giggle clogs my throat. “I was really into you biting that last night, huh?”
His chest rumbles on a growly purr. “Did you hear me complaining?”
No, I heard him roaring every time he went over the edge. And felt, bit by bit, some deep pain inside of him easing.
I couldn’t focus on it while we were all wrapped up in each other, but now, with the periwinkle morning light streaming in and a songbird warbling somewhere nearby, I close my eyes and try to stumble my way through the half-bond.
It definitely doesn’t feel natural, the way I imagine full bonds do. But I can still get a sense of what’s going on. And under all the happiness and relief floating there, I find the point of connection, where we’re partially tied together.
And it hurts.
I know Spencer told me not having me during his rut would be painful for Tristan, but it never occurred to me…
“Tris,” I whisper, clutching his forearm. “You’re in pain.”
For a moment, he seems genuinely confused. He lets me turn as much as I can in his grasp, slipping out of my wetness and frowning down in consternation.
When I brush my fingertips over the place above his stomach, below his lungs, he understands. A crease rumples his brow. “It actually doesn’t hurt right now. Not nearly as much as usual, anyway.”
He thinks he’s comforting me, but I’m horrified. When he feels my blood turn to ice in my veins, he blows out a breath and settles on the mattress beside me.
“I guess I didn’t want to think about how bad it had gotten,” he admits. “It’s been progressively worse, but nothing compared to how it feels when I have to be away from you physically. I’ve been working from home because the few times I tried to go in…”
