Page 65 of Taken By the Fae

I bite the inside of my cheek, the throbbing at my core matching the thundering beat in my chest. “I’d rather feel you inside me.”

His grip on my thigh tightens as he curses under his breath. He pulls his hand back a little before sliding it under my dress, bunching it up at my hips. I suck in a soft breath as his fingers skim the edge of my panties.

“Is this okay?” he checks.

Fuck yes, don’t you dare stop touching me ever.

“Yeah,” I breathe.

Tristan moves his fingers over the thin fabric, skimming them along my folds. I exhale a soft sigh, closing my eyes and giving myself over to the sensations he’s wringing from my body. And when his thumb finds my clit, a strangled whimper escapes my throat before I can clamp my mouth shut. Heat flares in my cheeks, and I turn my face toward the window.

“Hey.” Tristan’s voice is gentle, low. “Don’t look away.”

I chew my bottom lip, forcing my eyes to find his as we idle at a red light.

He flashes me a brilliant smile. “That’s better.” His fingers start moving again as his gaze holds mine, and I nearly buck my hips off the seat when he pushes my panties aside and slips a single finger past my folds. I tense at the sudden intrusion—it’s been… a while since anyone has touched me, and even then, it wasn’t like this. Intense, all-consuming pleasure floods through me, and I grip the seat on either side of me until my knuckles go white. A muscle feathers along his jaw and his eyes darken as he sinks his finger in to the knuckle, massaging my inner walls. My breathing shallows as he pulls back slowly, then pushes in even deeper, curling his finger and hitting a spot that sends sparks of pure bliss through me.

The windshield glimmers green, and I realize with a start that the light has changed. Tristan hasn’t taken his foot off the brake—or his eyes off me, though. His fingers continue their steady thrusts as my heart attempts to break free from my rib cage.

“Tristan,” I say in a breathy voice, “the light.”

“I’m aware,” he replies, the corner of his mouth kicking up as his eyes shine with determination. “We’re not moving until you make that delicious noise again.”

My eyes pop wide, and I quickly check the side mirror, exhaling a heavy breath when I realize there’s no one behind us. That sense of relief is quickly replaced with arousal when Tristan adds a second finger, scissoring them inside me, and strums my clit like the delicate strings of a violin. Heat pools low in my belly as my core throbs and I clench around Tristan’s wicked fingers. Everything in me tightens, and I reach desperately for him, grabbing the front of his shirt and tugging him toward me as our lips crash together. His fingers speed up, and my release slams into me. I moan against his lips, riding the waves of pleasure without holding back.

The sound of a horn blaring from behind rips us apart, and I fall back against my seat, breathing hard, with a grin on my lips.

It’s silent between us from the time we get out of the car until we reach the penthouse. I glance around the place; the modern elegance of it catches me off guard every time.

Tristan steps into my line of sight with dark eyes and a wicked curve on his lips. “What are you thinking about?”

I press my lips together, trying to form an answer. “A lot.”

“Can I help with that?” he purrs, slipping his arms around me, pulling me toward him.

A smile curls my lips, and I lean into him, sliding my arms around his neck. “This is weird,” I admit.

“What’s that? Me touching you?”

I laugh. “Melettingyou touch me.”

“And enjoying the hell out of it,” he adds with a smirk, his eyes locked on mine.“Do you trust me?”

I swallow, trying to ease the dryness in my throat. “Yes,” I answer. Had he asked me that a month ago, I would’ve laughed in his face, but now? Things are different between us—and I’m not just talking about the amazing orgasm he gave me on the way here.

“Good,” he says, and then his lips are on my skin, trailing up my neck. Kissing. Licking. Sucking.

I hold on to him, sighing softly, which encourages him. He kisses my jaw, my temple, and the corner of my mouth before his lips slant over mine. I gasp into his mouth when his lower half presses against me, my mind swimming in a pleasant haze. My eyes close and my hips press into him, making him groan against my lips.

I jump when his phone goes off in his pocket, and we break apart. He pulls it out with a growl and swears. “I have to take this,” he says. He swipes at the screen and barks, “What is it?” into the phone.

There are several beats of silence, and then: “I’ll be right there.” He shoves the phone back in his pocket, and when he turns back to me, his gaze is distant. “I’m needed downstairs.”

My stomach drops, and I ask, “What’s going on?”

He thrusts a hand through his hair, his jaw working. “A group of unseelie fae attacked Skylar after Max left with Oliver.”

My eyes widen. Jules is attacking fae who mean something to Tristan, striking closer to home.“I’m so sorry, Tristan. Is she…?”

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