Prince of Forever Page 23

  Frozen in place, Tristan fixed her with a hot stare. “That is truly what you desire?”

  “Yeah.” She glared up at him. “You got a problem with that?”

  “A problem? Nay.” His violet eyes sparkled, mesmerizing her. “Not when I meet your requirements.”

  “Wh-what?” He’d wanted to make a list so he could put himself at the top?

  He ticked off his attributes. “I am not ugly on the inside. I appeal to your emotions. Have I ever fallen asleep while you were talking?”

  “No,” she answered, still shocked from his announcement.

  “That’s right. I listened. And I am strong enough to move your furniture—I’m strong enough to move your house. I care for you, and I have pleased you with my touch on more than one occasion. I am perfect for you.” He smiled, slowly, seductively, sending a current of desire throughout her entire body. “Now you will entice me…if you can.”

  Her first thought? He still wants me!

  Joy wrapped around her, a silken cocoon. He gave her a hungry once-over, mentally stripping away her clothing, piece by unwanted piece.

  She did the same to him before batting her lashes at him. “Entice you? Oh, I will.”

  Diabolical and wicked, his eyes gleamed with delight, making the irises glow like crystal fire. “Prove it.” With that, he simply walked away.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Worship Your Mistress’s Body

  JULIA STARED AFTER his retreating back. He’d asked her to seduce him…yet he’d left her alone in the kitchen. She didn’t understand. Unless she was supposed to follow him?

  In a trance, she followed after him.

  He’d stopped in the bedroom and now perched at the end of the bed.

  Her limbs trembled as she approached. “I…I don’t want to be in charge, Tristan. Can we consider you enticed?”

  He grinned and stood, revealing a tie he held. “We can.” Striding over and moving behind her, he ran that tie through his fingers. “Fear nothing I do.”

  A wave of uncertainty drifted through her at such ominous words, but still she nodded. “I-I won’t.”

  He wrapped a blindfold around her eyes, and darkness engulfed her. Once he tied the strings, careful not to tug her hair, nervousness mingled with her desire, making her tremors worse.

  “What are you doing?” she asked and licked her lips.

  “Still trust me?”

  “Yes.” Without a doubt.

  “Then ask no more questions. Focus on what you feel.”

  “No questions.” Julia drew in a deep breath, relaxing. She felt good. Amazing!

  Outside, a deluge of rain splashed hypnotically. Tristan’s masculine scent enveloped her, stronger—headier—with every breath. His body heat burned her cells.

  “Repeat after me,” he said. Ah, his voice was like rich brandy and smoky cigars, so intoxicating she was instantly drunk with arousal. “I am beautiful.”

  Tears welled as she realized his purpose. “I am beautiful.”

  “I am worthy.”

  “I am worthy.”

  “I am precious.”

  “I am precious,” she whispered, her voice cracking.

  His praise, and her own avowal to the affirmative, seeped into her consciousness. For the first time in her life, she believed she was beautiful. She was worthy. She was precious. The day of the prom, Brian and his ugly insides hadn’t been worthy of her.

  “Do you know what you do to me?” he breathed in her ear, then placed a lingering kiss on her nape. “How you make me burn? If you do not, you soon will, for I plan to make you melt wherever I touch you. My fingers will be hot, like a brand. They will scorch your skin as they explore every curve, every hollow…every luscious inch.”

  With his words, he cast a stronger spell of love and lust around her mind. This was what she’d dreamed about all those many years she’d spent alone at night, hoping, dreaming, praying.

  “Once we come together, sweet draga, you’ll only want more,” he vowed. “So much more.”

  Small, delicious tremors rocked her. But he wasn’t finished.

  Reaching around her, he palmed her breasts through the fabric of her shirt, and she gasped. “I’ll touch you here—” He slid a hand down her stomach, stopping only when he reached the apex of her thighs, not touching where she needed him most. But he said, “I’ll touch you here, as well. And everywhere in between.”

  Warm breath stroked her neck, a buttery-soft caress. Electrical currents sailed through her blood, torching every insecurity she’d ever harbored. He untied the drawstring of her sweat pants; the thick material floated to her ankles, cool air kissing her overheated skin.

  To her shock, she had no desire to cover herself. No, she wanted to take off more clothing and show herself to Tristan. He would find her beautiful. Arousing.

  He helped her step out of the pants. When she steadied, he dipped his fingers inside her panties, moving lower, lower still, until his hand rested over her intimate curls.

  She began to heave her breaths. The contact was so intimate, so new. With gentle motions, he stroked the silky tuft of hair, soft, hard, soft again. Her hips rocked of their own accord, urging him to go deeper.

  “Do you want me to take you over the edge?” he all but purred.

  Even whispering, he possessed the most sensual voice; a deep, rich baritone that wrapped around her as surely as the blindfold over her eyes. Every time he spoke, his breath fanned her ear, sending images of tangled sheets and hot, sweaty skin racing through her mind.

  “Yes,” she answered, breathless. “I ache.”

  His fingers finally, blessedly brushed her clitoris, and she gasped. So good!

  He stroked until she whimpered. Then he paused.

  She waited eagerly, suspended in a time and place where only she and Tristan existed. “Please,” she said with a moan.

  Yes! He began tormenting her again, stroking, moving up and down the damp folds of flesh, almost, almost, finally almost hitting where she needed him most. A low, needy moan slipped past her lips. “Tristan!”

  Nothing could have prepared her for this sensual onslaught to her senses, this consuming quest for pleasure. Nothing.

  “You are close,” he said, but again, he paused.

  Again she waited, growing desperate for more. “Please.”

  “Have you ever made love in a chair, Julia?”

  Slowly she shook her head. “I’ve never made love to anyone.” Her voice was hoarse with longing.

  “So I will be your first?” He kissed her neck again, and this time he licked, making her mewl with longing. “Your legs will hook over the arms. Then you’ll take me inside you so deeply you’ll scream and scream, over and over.”

  Fantasies of her and Tristan in a chair, doing exactly what he described, besieged her, causing her throat to constrict. I must have him in a chair.

  “Tell me that you want me, draga. Say the words.”

  “I want you.” She wanted to kiss and lick his scars, to make them better and help him heal. She wanted to run her tongue over each of his tattoos and hear him gasp. “I want now.”

  Tristan whipped her around then. “Give me your mouth.” His tone was raw, primal. He didn’t give her time to reply. He swooped down and let his mouth ravage hers. Welcoming his strength, his hardness, she met his tongue thrust for thrust, her hands kneading his back.

  Always and forever, this man will own my heart.

  * * *

  “ALWAYS,” TRISTAN growled, the word exploding from the deepest recesses of his mind. He clutched her to him, his pulse drumming. With Julia in his arms, his past couldn’t affect him. He wouldn’t worry about another woman trying to steal him. He only cared about this moment. The feel of Julia’s skin skipped along his nerve endings, intense and consuming. The scent of her drove him to the brink of wildness. He wanted this woman to the exclusion of all else.

  “Let me touch you,” she said on a wispy catch of breath.

  Had she ask
ed, he would have given her the world. “Let you? Nay, Julia.” He licked the seam of her lips. “I need you to touch me.” As he spoke, he drank in the sight of the woman who had consumed his thoughts since the moment he’d first spotted her. She captivated him, taking him to new levels of sensuality, and he had to command himself to slow down before things ended too quickly. This was Julia’s first time and, by Elliea, she would enjoy every second of it.

  Her breasts were full and lush, made for a man’s touch. His touch. Rosy peaks crowned her nipples, ready and waiting. Beckoning. Her legs did not long, but they climbed all the way to heaven. Soon they would wrap around his waist, squeezing and pulling him tightly into her sheath. Longing nearly sent him to his knees.

  “Feel how much I want you.” He guided her hand down the planes of his chest, around his navel, then plunged past his underwear. He fit her fingers around his ridged length, showing her the way of it. A quick study, his Julia. It wasn’t long before she stroked him up, down, up, squeezing him just right.

  “Yes, draga,” he praised. “Just like that.” I might not survive this.

  * * *

  HOLDING TRISTAN’S erection filled Julia with feminine power. Here was a man, a master of sensuality, who responded to her as if he could never get enough. A heady thought, indeed.

  In the next heartbeat, he lifted her shirt over her arms, baring her naked breasts to his view. Once again cool air kissed her heated skin, causing her nipples to pucker, ache.

  She heard Tristan hiss in a breath before he said, “You are the most ethereal creature I have ever beheld.”

  “No, I—” she began out of habit, then stopped herself. “Thank you.”

  He licked the rim of her nipple while tracing his finger around her navel. The rest of her words died a quick death. Julia’s body went up in flames. Needy for more, she arched her back, giving him better access. Tristan sucked the hardened peak into the hot wetness of his mouth.

  At last Tristan removed her final garment: her panties. Julia groaned, not in discomfort or embarrassment, which still surprised her, but in longing. Right now, this man belonged to her. Only her. To others he might be a pleasure slave. But to her he was simply Tristan, a sensual man who branded her body and soul.

  He kissed her neck, her collarbone, the hair on his chest tickling her skin. For only a second, he pulled back and she heard a delicate rush of air as he… removed his underwear? Then one of his arms anchored under her knees, the other bracing her lower back. When he lifted her against his chest, the world tilted. He carried her, the glide so smooth she felt as if she were floating on a cloud of air. Still, under the guise of needing support, she clasped her arms around his neck.

  He strode through the house—the living room, she would guess. A roll of thunder exploded as he eased onto…the recliner! Yep, they were in the living room.

  He adjusted her on his lap, making sure her legs straddled his thighs and her knees rested on the chair’s arms.

  He never stopped kissing her.

  * * *

  TRISTAN LONGED to consume every inch of Julia. He slowly worked his way down her body, skimming the soft curve of her stomach. Then he reached around to caress the silky curve of her bottom. Her indrawn breath told him just how much she liked it.

  Quickly losing his fragile hold on sanity, he explored her wet, feminine center more intimately, teasing her with a finger.

  Rocking her hips, chasing the digit, she uttered a low, throaty moan. He watched her face, watched the way her lips parted so uninhibitedly. The way she arched her back, silently demanding more.

  “That’s it, draga. Move for me.”

  “Tristan…” she began, only to draw in a breath when he laved her nipple. She was open for him in more ways than one.

  This woman affected him as no other. Hearing his name on her lips was more arousing than actually making love with another. Julia made him feel complete, whole, as if he’d been born merely to know her. As if enduring thousands of spans in torment had a purpose.

  Before Zirra, he might not have appreciated Julia’s kindness and concern. Now he knew how rare—how valuable—such things were. When you found someone who exemplified those qualities, you held on and never let go.

  She released another moan as his bare skin rubbed against hers. Every point of contact proved electric, consuming. Soon she was writhing, doing her best to grind against him.

  “Ready to hurl over the edge, draga?”

  * * *

  “YES!” PRESSURE coiled inside Julia, set to explode at any moment. “Don’t stop.” Her breath came in short, erratic pants. “Everywhere you touch, heat ripples under my skin. Never stop touching me. Promise?”

  “Promise.” He groaned deep in his throat, the vibration touching her all the way to her toes.

  He penetrated her with a second finger, and her inner muscles instantly tightened, fierce pleasure erupting with the force of an avalanche. “Yes, yes, yes!”

  The climax ripped through her, muscles jerking, and she screamed.

  While the orgasm still hummed with life, he scissored his fingers deep within her, stretching her, making her ready for his invasion. With his other hand, he gripped one side of her hips to help her imitate the rhythm of sex. Once. Twice. He pushed his fingers deeper, pulled out, then pushed in once again. Her need for him amazed her. Addicted her. Not just his touch, but him. His voice, his smile, his happiness.

  Having deprived her body of satisfaction for so long, it now demanded compensation. More, more, more. The climax was only the beginning.

  “By Elliea, Julia, I have never felt anything so hot,” Tristan praised. “So good, so tight.”

  Sensation eclipsed time. Fiery pleasure grew within her, the embers all but inextinguishable. Each movement she made served only one purpose. To gain deliverance from the sweet torment he continually inflicted.

  “Come inside me, Tristan. I need you.” Then she would come again.

  He removed his fingers, then removed her blindfold and stared up at her face. “I want to taste you.”

  Taste you. It took a moment for Julia’s passion-glazed mind to register what it was he actually wanted to do. Panicked replaced her sensual haze, and she leaned back, drawing her knees together. “No, thank you,” she said, shaking her head.

  “So polite.” One corner of his mouth curved up. “You want me to do this.”

  Yes! No! Maybe? “What if you don’t like it?”

  “I’ll love it.”

  “What if you don’t like it with me?”

  “I’ll love it more because I’m with you.” He wrapped his arms around her waist, as if to keep her from bolting. “Let me taste you. Let me give you pleasure with my tongue.”

  Incapable of speech, she shook her head again and locked her legs even tighter. If she moved a fraction of an inch, her knees might ram into his erection.

  He gently cupped her chin in his hands and tilted her face up to his. As she watched, he brought his other hand—the one he’d used to finger her—to his mouth. He licked the two fingers she’d had inside her body, and closed his eyes in surrender, as if he truly savored her taste.

  Intense pleasure scorched her. She didn’t just want; she needed. “I…okay. All right. Yes.” Her voice sounded drugged, breathless with passion, honey-rich with uncertainty.

  Bit by bit, she loosened the muscles in her thighs, giving him the access he craved.

  His violet eyes brightened with triumph as he slid his hands between her legs, softly gripped her knees and pushed them farther apart. Then he urged two fingers inside of her and grinned again. “You’re even wetter than before. It requires every ounce of my self-preservation to submerge my intense hunger.”

  Her cheeks blazed as he moved down, cupped her bottom and lifted her to brace her knees atop the arms of the chair. Her core hovered just in front of his mouth, his warm breath tickling her. He lowered his head slowly. Then…

  His tongue flicked against the heart of her desire, and she threw b
ack her head to scream to the ceiling. So good! Nothing—nothing!—had ever felt better for anyone ever.

  He licked and sucked, moaning with pleasure all the while. He does. He loves it! Her bones liquefied, her nerves sizzled, and Julia feared what would happen if she never felt such exquisite agony again. Her ragged groans filled the room, mingling with near constant rumbles of thunder.

  Her head thrashed from side to side, causing her hair to stream wildly down her back, and even that served as a stimulant. The silky tendrils caressed her heated skin, tickling.

  For some reason, Tristan pulled away.

  “Noooo.” She tightened her thighs, trying to secure him in place until he satiated the need pulsing so steadily through her blood. “Come back.”

  “Like it, do you?” He uttered a hoarse chuckle. “I do, as well, draga.” His tongue stroked, probed, mimicking the motions of sex. “Never have I tasted anything so sweet,” he whispered against her. “So perfect.”

  Trembling, she arched into him. “Mmm…” Speech was impossible.

  So…much…pleasure… “Tristan! I’m about to—” Everything inside of her burst. Flashing lights. Twitching muscles. This newest orgasm rocked her to the core, stronger even than the last. Unable to temper the effects of this powerful onslaught, she screamed his name.

  “You’re killing me,” she breathed, “and I’m loving it.”

  * * *

  TRISTAN HAD NEVER felt so savage, so hot. So desperate. “I need you, Julia.”

  “Yes. Yes. Please! I’m still not done.”

  “You are so small. This first time will hurt, and I’m sorry for it.” Had he prepared her enough?

  “Do it, Tristan. Do it now.”

  He lowered her to his lap, placing her knees outside his thighs, barely able to think past getting inside her. After he’d fit the tip of his erection at her opening, he paused. He was panting his breaths, overly tense and aching. Sweat trickled down his temple. “Ready for me?”

  “Ready,” she said, and nipped his bottom lip.

  Grinding his teeth against the surge of pleasure, he inched his way inside her…pushing, pushing… So tight! So wet, hot and perfect.