My tongue slowly danced across his bottom lip and then I used it to part his mouth as I spoke in a whisper, “Kiss me.” His hands moved to my lower back, and he pulled me closer to him. He started to rub my back in a circular motion. We were so close together that it was hard to tell if we were two separate people or one soul discovering its inner flame for the first time.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“Kiss me.”


A small smile spread across my mouth as I laid a finger against his lips. “I’m only going to tell you this one last time, Tristan. Kiss—”

I didn’t have to finish my words, and I hardly remembered him carrying me to my bedroom.

My back lay against my dresser as he boxed me in. He tightened his grip around my waist and our lips met within a moment’s time. His mouth tasted every inch of mine as he deepened our connection. His fingers traveled up my spine, sending chills throughout me. He leaned in closer, and his tongue parted my lips, finding my tongue ready to dance with his. His arms wrapped tighter around me, and I dug my fingers into his back, holding on to him as if he was my favorite thing in the world. He is. My head tilted to the side as my hands became tangled in his hair, forcing him to kiss me deeper, harder, faster…

“Tristan,” I moaned against him, and he growled into me. My hand fell to the bottom of his shirt, and I slid it up, feeling the tight body he hid underneath. I loved how he felt. I loved how he tasted. I love how I am falling in love with him.

I didn’t know it was possible. I didn’t know the broken pieces of a heart could still beat for love.

He lifted me up, his hands clasping around my behind, and he sat me on the edge of my mattress. His breaths were rushed, his hunger clear. “I want you so much, Lizzie.” He sighed as his mouth sucked on my ear before he rolled his tongue across my chin and landed his lips against mine. The way he tongued my mouth as if he was trying to find every inch of me, every taste made me moan into him as he began to slide his hands under my dress. I watched as he slid my panties down my hips and tossed them to the side of the room. He edged me closer to his body and spread my legs, allowing me to feel his hardness. The longing look in his eyes made me smile. I knew right then that he would always make me smile.

His fingers gripped the edge of my dress, and he slowly moved it up, studying every inch of me, every curve. “Arms,” he ordered in a deep snarl, and I lifted my hands up as he took the dress off and tossed it next to my panties. “Beautiful,” he muttered before bending down and kissing my neck. Each time his lips connected to my skin, I felt my heartbeats racing. His tongue followed the curve of my bra as he reached behind me, unhooking it and throwing it to the pile. He sent shivers through my body as his thumbs circled my hardening nipples.

I started raising his shirt, revealing his toned abs. “Arms,” I ordered. He held them up, and I let it drop on top of the growing pile joining the growing pile. He didn’t waste any time lowering his mouth to my chest again, sliding his tongue across my breasts. His lips kissed me hard, and sucked me harder. My breaths grew heavier and heavier, hungrier and hungrier for him to touch me, taste me. “Tristan, just…oh my God,” I muttered, my head falling back from the way his tongue knew how to control my body.

“Lie down,” he ordered. I did as he said and closed my eyes, running my fingers across my chest. The anticipation of his next touch made me nervous, yet thrilled. When would he touch me, and where?

My hips arched up when I felt the wetness of his tongue sweep against my inner thigh. “I want to taste you, Lizzie. I want to taste every inch of you,” he whispered against my skin. His hands gripped my ass, and he pushed my hips up toward him as his tongue fell deep inside me. He licked me slowly and steadily as my body shook in his hold. He licked me harder and wilder as my body begged for more. He licked me deeper and longer as I tangled my fingers in his hair, wanting nothing more than him inside of me.

“Tristan, please,” I begged, my hips wiggling as he slid two fingers inside me as he continued rolling his tongue in and out of my wetness. “I want you…”

Once he pulled away, he stood up and began to unzip his jeans. “Tell me how you want it. Tell me how you want me,” he said, his eyes never leaving mine.

“I don’t want it gentle,” I whispered, short of breath. My eyes met his hard erection standing against his boxers as he stepped out of his jeans. My fingers wrapped around the edge of his boxers and within seconds, they were off. “Show me the shadows that keep you up at night. Kiss me with your darkness.”

He lifted me off the bed and placed me facing my dresser, my hands falling against the drawers. With haste, he reached for his jeans pockets, pulled out his wallet, and grabbed a condom, ripping it open with desperation and rolling it onto his hardness. Within moments he was standing behind me, his body pressed against my naked soul. His finger trailed down my back until he hit the curves of my ass, and he grasped it in his hold. “Lizzie,” he said, his breaths matching the speed of my own. “I won’t hurt you,” he promised as he grabbed my left leg and held it up in his arm.

I know, Tristan. I know.

In one thrust, he slid into my tightness with force, making me cry out as my back arched from the sensation of him entering me. As his left hand held my leg up, his right wrapped around to my front to massage my breasts.

His breaths were rough as he spoke. “You feel so good, Lizzie…God…you feel so…” His words faded as he continued to thrust into me. Being so close to Tristan—not only physically, but deep within both of our darkness—made tears form in my eyes. He was beautiful. He was scary. He was real.