Page 96 of Twisted Fate

I let out a breath that sounds more like a moan and bite back a string of expletives when he pushes his tongue inside.Holy shit.Doing this has never feltthisamazing before.You’ve also never had Tristan Westbrook between your thighs.If I’d known it would feel like this, I don’t think I’d have been able to hold off this long before admitting what I felt for him.

“Tristan,” I murmur his name, my hips jerking off the bed. He chuckles, shooting vibrations straight to my core, and holds me against the mattress with his hands. My fingers grip his hair, holding him there while he pulls more moans from me, making my head spin and setting my body on fire.

My breath comes in short, quick gasps, my heart pounding in my chest as my hips grind against him even as he holds them down. He flicks his tongue over me once more, thrusting in deep, and I explode, crying out my release.

He presses a kiss to my stomach and gets off the bed, giving me a minute to catch my breath while he steps out of his pants and boxers. My mouth drops open, in awe of him.

Sliding his hands up my thighs, he crawls over me and reaches into the nightstand, pulling out a condom. He tears it open and rolls it on with ease, kissing the corner of my mouth. He tilts my chin up until our eyes meet. “You’re still sure?”

“Yes,” I say, running my fingers through his hair.

His leg nudges mine apart as he settles between my thighs. His lips find mine as he leans forward, and I feel him against me. He dips inside of me, and I wince at the discomfort, squeezing my eyes shut. I may not be a virgin, but it’s been a while.

“You need to relax, Rory,” he murmurs, his lips brushing my cheek.

I take a deep breath, and let it out, forcing my muscles to relax. He slides in a bit more, groaning as he rests his forehead against mine.

“You’re so tight, sweetheart.” He pushes in a bit further before sliding almost all the way out. He thrusts back in, stealing my breath, and doesn’t move for several beats. “Are you okay?” he checks.

It takes me a minute, but I manage a nod. “Don’t stop,” I breathe.

He slides out once more and then fills me again, making me clench around him. “Christ, Rory,” he groans.

A few more thrusts and the discomfort dissolves into a pleasant fullness. He quickens his pace, making me moan, and kisses the pulse at my throat.

“That’s it,” he encourages, reaching between us to tease me with his thumb. He thrusts a few more times, and I can feel another orgasm building. My head spins with pleasure as he thrusts into me again and again until my orgasm hits, and I cry out his name.

“You still with me, sweetheart?”

“Always,” I murmur, still basking in the aftershocks.

He grips my hips and dives into me hard and fast, changing his pace every few thrusts. Some are deep and slow, others quicker. His eyes shut as he groans, the sound rumbling in his chest, and seals his mouth over mine, kissing me sweetly.

I meet his thrusts, lifting my hips off the mattress each time. We pull each other closer, our lips battling for control with each stroke, each thrust, until Tristan reaches his own climax, growling deep in his throat.

Our heavy breathing mingles as we break away slightly. He takes his time sliding out of me and gets off the bed. “I’ll be right back,” he says, still a little breathless, and less than a minute later, he’s lying next to me again, his head propped on his hand. His grin is wicked. “We should’ve done that the night we met. I could’ve won you over a long time ago.”

I roll my eyes and push him clear off the side of the bed, smiling at the thud he makes hitting the floor.

He gets up, unfazed, and kisses my shoulder. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin the moment.”

I flick a glance in his direction, unable to stop the smile from touching my lips. “Nothing in the world could ruin what we just did.”

We lie together in silence. The only sound is our quiet, steady breathing. Tristan traces slow circles on my shoulder with his finger, lulling me into a sleepy, content state. He pulls the sheet across my naked body and wraps his arm around my waist. Despite the number of times I’ve slept beside Tristan in this bed, anticipating this day, it is so much more satisfying than I imagined.

In this moment, there are no dark fae or light fae, there’s only us, and that’s all I want.

Iwake up with the most delicious ache between my legs, and a smile curls my lips before I even open my eyes. Last night was incredible. It felt like something I’ve been waiting my entire life to experience, and it surpassed my expectations of what being with Tristan would be like.

I blink a few times, squinting at the sunlight shining in through the window. With a quick glance beside me, I see Tristan is still asleep. I lie on my side, watching the rise and fall of his chest. I could watch this forever, basking in the normalcy of it, but the longer I lie there thinking about how great last night was, the more panic trickles in. Each passing moment makes it harder to breathe as a clear picture forms in my head. The light and pleasant feeling I had when I woke up is gone, replaced with a pit of unease in my stomach. Even while looking at Tristan’s calm and relaxed face, all I can think about is Jules plotting his next attack in his grand plan to destroy Tristan and rule the entire fae race. My chest tightens, and I fight the urge to reach over and touch his face. I don’t want to wake him.

Sliding off the bed, I head into the bathroom, pulling my clothes back on and tying my hair up. I peek over to the bed, relieved to find him still asleep, then slip out of the room. I grab my jacket and bag, putting on my shoes at the entryway before I step onto the elevator and ride down to the lobby of the hotel.

There’s a good chance I’m the only girl who has left Tristan Westbrook alone, naked in his bed, after a night of mind-blowing sex, but I have to do this.

It’s not even ten o’clock, so the lobby is empty aside from a few employees. I wave to the concierge on my way out the door and get on the streetcar heading toward campus.

After I take the fastest shower I’ve ever had, I change into black leggings, a sweater, and boots. I pull a comb through my hair and tie it back so it’s out of the way. Standing in front of my desk, I hesitate before I open the bottom drawer and grab the iron stakes. The night Tristan and I met, he confirmed the myth about fae and how iron is poisonous to them.

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