Page 27 of Absinthe Dreams
"I know," she says, trembling beneath me. Her eyes meet mine—wide, glassy, full of emotion. "Trystan."
I kiss her again, pouring everything into her, everything I haven't said. Everything I wish I'd told her a long goddamn time ago. I give it all to her, drowning her in it.
She clings to me, squirming, panting.
I tip my hips back and then thrust forward.
The way she sobs my name? Oh, yeah. Ineedto hear that again.
I start moving, surging into her in powerful strikes, burying myself as deep as I can get before pulling back to do it all over again. She sobs every fucking time I bottom out. She's stretched around me, tight and perfect, clawing at my shoulders.
It still isn't enough. I lift her leg higher, fucking her harder, deeper. My teeth find her skin, leaving little bites that have her clenching around me again and again. Her nails rake harder. She sobs even louder.
"I want to stretch you wide and pour myself into you, Chloe," I growl against her skin. "I want you to feel me every time you move, every time you breathe."
"Yes, do it," she demands. "Please, Trystan.Please."
"The way you beg for it," I groan, nipping her shoulder. "Fuck. I want to ruin you, you know that? Just…keep fucking you until I'm the only thing you remember. You'd let me, wouldn't you?"
"Yes."
I growl, a savage, feral sound, wrapping one hand around her throat. I don't squeeze. Much. I just hold it there. Holdherthere, pinned beneath me and moaning while I fuck my way into her soul. She holds my gaze the whole time, like she's daring me to claim it or take it or pour myself into every inch of it.
And then she wrecks me, ruins me like she hasn't already been doing that for years.
"I'm yours, Trystan," she whispers. "I've always been yours."
I roar her name, fucking her like a madman, no control, no restraint, just…hers.
Her body bows beneath me as my hips crash into hers, a loud cry of ecstasy tumbling from her lips. Every muscle in her body locks up as she shatters, my name echoing around us.
And goddamn, she was stunning earlier, but she's otherworldly now.
Her inner muscles clamp around me so tight I can't move. I can't breathe. I just fucking die the sweetest death in her arms. I'm lost in her, buried to the hilt, my cock pulsing as rope after rope pours into her.
"Chloe," I choke. "Christ, Chloe."
She sobs my name in response, and I know—I fuckingknow—I'll do whatever it takes to keep her, even if it means changing everything.
Chapter Seven
Chloe
Once Trystan can moveagain, he hauls me into his arms, plastering me against his chest. I cling to him, listening to the way his heart beats a frenzy beneath my ear. My whole body still tingles. If my shoulder or my ankle still hurts, I don't feel them. I just feel a sense of satisfaction that runs bone deep.
I think it's the same for him. He's sweet beneath me, periodically dropping kisses to my crown, running his fingers through my hair, or down my back. He's still inside me, still mostly hard. But it's just…so damn sweet.
We don't say anything for a long time, but silence isn't my natural state. It never has been. And I've got a lot on my mind. So many questions, so much I never said to him, and so many things I've never heard from him.
"Just say it, Coco," he says before I manage to put my thoughts in order.
I peek up at him to find him smirking at me. "What?"
"You think loudly, baby. Just say whatever is on your mind so you can relax again."
"I don't think loud," I mutter, but we both know it's a lie. So I huff, pause, and then bite my bottom lip. "I guess…I guess I'm just wondering why you've treated me like a problem for so long if you felt this way."
His hand pauses on my back. "You think I treat you like a problem?"
