Page 27 of Mister Rival

A strangled sound leaves my throat as he swipes through my wet center with his tongue. I can’t keep my eyes off him, and when his gaze meets mine, I almost melt into a puddle. Tristan licks my pussy as he stares up at me intently. Hitching my leg over one shoulder, he nuzzles right in there, parting my folds with one hand as he latches onto my clit. I jerk, my hand gripping his hair as he circles my clit with the tip of his tongue.

Neither of us speak. I can’t form any kind of coherent thought aside from,fuck me stupid!AndI’m so glad I waxed during the week.So I keep quiet.

He’s so sexy on his knees for me with his mouth all over my sensitive flesh. Then I feel it. That pull in my lower stomach as my arousal piques, and I know I’m going to come ridiculously fast. He barely even touches me, but when he slides one fingerinside me slowly, my eyes roll into the back of my head as I lose control. My body convulses and the sparks ignite my cries, carrying them around the room as I lose myself in his heavenly bliss.

I’m vaguely aware of the fact I may have just screamed his name, but I don’t care. The whole fucking reunion can hear me for all I care, and when he replaces one finger with two and keeps lapping my clit, I come again right after the first. My insides pulse around his long, expert strokes.

But Tristan Lucas did not come to play. Oh, no. He’s meticulous in all that he does.

I gasp as he lifts me, carrying me through the suite as I try to catch my breath. We reach the bedroom and he crosses the room in a few heady paces and tosses me onto it. I scramble backwards as he kicks his shoes off, crawling onto the mattress as he grabs my ankles and pulls me back down the bed. Oh, this man.

“I didn’t say I was done with this tight little pussy, did I?” he says.

He didn’t. He did not. Oh, but he did.

I clutch the comforter beneath me as he rips my panties off my body, spreads my legs and dips his head down low, replacing his fingers with his tongue. Feeling his face between my thighs and his tongue inside me is the dirtiest, filthiest thing I’ve ever done, but then he lifts his head and says, “Tits, Ali, get those tits out because I wanna fuck those next.”

My eyes bulge, but I’m no dummy. I didn’t come here to play patty-cake. I want this. I want Tristan’s mouth, hands and his dick all over me. Tonight is about me and him. Nobody else.

I reach behind me to try and adjust my halter, which is kinda hard when at the same time, Tristan decides to throw both my legs over his shoulder. I just get the clasp free when I tumble back onto the pillows. Wasting no time, I pull my bodice down, my breasts spilling free. Since my dress was fitted, I have no braunderneath. When Tristan’s eyes gaze up to my rack, I think I’ll die happy when I see the feral look he gives me, followed by the growl that leaves his throat. He’s like a wild animal, and I love every second of it.

Oh, why did I only discover his mouth now? Could we have been doing this long ago? I don’t have time to ponder that as his tongue sends me into another spiral of oblivion. And this time, I don’t hold back my scream.

Chapter Thirteen

TRISTAN

This woman has the power to render me to my knees and never get up. I eat her out like I’m starving, and maybe I am. I don’t know when my crush turned into this, but it’s so much more. And it’s got nothing to do with tequila. I’ve always known Alison was the one that got away, and having her here now in my bed, it only makes me mad I didn’t pursue her sooner. Like when that no-good loser ex-husband decided to shack up with a bimbo. What the fuck is the matter with him? How did he not realize he lost the best thing that had ever happened to him?

We may fight like cats and dogs, but I wonder if some of that wasn’t because of the undeniable chemistry we’ve always had. Have we both been fighting it? Or is it just me?

I pull my mouth off of her slick pussy and kiss my way up her body. She’s still wearing too much clothing, and I’m fully dressed, but I want her to taste herself on my tongue.

I stop at her breasts, pleased they’re natural and not fake, and I rub my chin over one hard peak. That earns me a whimper as I close my mouth over her nipple, kneading the other with my hand. I twist and turn it between my fingers, and she almost bucks me off the bed.

I grin, moving up her décolletage, kissing and nipping her neck as I reach her mouth. I kiss her hard, shoving my tongue in her mouth as she groans.

“See how sweet you taste,” I mutter, cupping her pussy with one hand. “I can’t wait to fuck you, baby. That was just an appetizer. Now I need you out of this dress.”

“Take your clothes off,” she pants. “Please, Tristan.” She tugs at the hem of my shirt, releasing it from my pants. I love it when she begs. I do as she asks in one fell swoop and rip the shirt off, the buttons flying every which way, then I discard it along with my tie.

“This okay?” I smirk.

“Pants, Tris, all of it.”

I snicker, shifting off the bed to stand for a second. Glorifying in her gaze lowering to my hands as I undo my belt, I grow even harder. I unzip my pants, shoving them and my boxer briefs down to my knees as my cock springs free. It’s heavy, long and fucking ready to sink into her heat.

She gasps again, and I think I’m beginning to like that sound. I kick my pants and boxers all the way off, along with my socks, and then I sheath my dick as I walk toward her. “Dress,” I demand. “Off.”

She shoves it down, then lifts her hips as she undoes the zipper behind her. Realizing she can’t reach, I kneel on the bed and help her, tugging the zipper down to her waist.

She pulls it off and kicks it away. I kneel, fondling myself as she stares at me, dumbfounded.

“Oh, my God, you’re built like Adonis,” she breathes.

I chuckle darkly. “I hope he’s tall, dark and handsome.”

“He’s got nothing on you.”

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