Page 71 of Savage Surrender

The towel makes it around me for the walk down the hall. It doesn’t make it inside the room.

It’s dim and cool, with the balcony doors open to the surf.

Naked, goosebumps rising everywhere the air touches, I climb into the middle and settle back against the blankets. My heart isn’t trying to beat its way out of my chest. I let my knees fall apart as my hand travels down my still-damp stomach.

Much better.

I start with one hand between my legs and the other flat on my stomach. My fingers slide over my clit. The first circle pulls a sound from me; the second brings Weller’s warning back in his voice.

Slow.

He isn’t here yet, so I speed up.

“I knew you’d cheat.”

Tristan leans against the open doorway with a towel low around his hips. His hair is dripping, leaving thin trails down his chest, and the look on his face makes getting caught feel like what I was actually waiting for.

“It’s not cheating. There weren’t any rules.”

“That was a catastrophic oversight on our part.”

I spread my knees wider.

He comes inside without approaching the mattress, leaving the door open as he settles against the wall.

I circle my clit again. “Are you just going to stand there?”

“Perfect view from here.”

“Give me something to look at and I can make it even better for you.”

Tristan untucks the towel and lets it fall.

He is so fucking pretty. Water runs over the sharp cut of his hips and catches in the hair below his stomach before his cock drops from his body, thick and heavy, the flushed head shining when he runs his thumb over it. Of course even his hand is elegant, long fingers circling himself while the tendons in his wrist shift beneath wet skin.

He’s mine.

“You’re dripping on my floor.”

“Water will be the least concerning thing to drip on your floors.”

“Tristan. Clean it up.”

He moves the towel around with his foot, his fist dragging slowly from base to tip. “Put your fingers inside.”

“I was doing fine before you got here.”

“Then stop being selfish and let me see.”

I push two fingers inside and curl them, watching his hand tighten around his cock. I pump them slowly and he bites his lip.

“Two looks lonely. I think you can take three.”

“Can I?” I give the words enough breath to make them a performance as I push the third inside. “It’s tight.”

His attention lifts to my face. “Spread them apart and get yourself ready for us.”

“Bossy.”