He grips me tighter while his movements become more aggressive. Everything about the way he fucks me feels raw and primal. Like he is so maddened with lust, he could devolve into an animal at any moment.
He’s gliding my pussy up and down his shaft faster now and the last remnants of water are splashing all over the place, but neither of us care. Our hunger has taken over.
He’s fucking me harder, with pure abandon, and my bones are mush. I melt into him as he squeezes my ass and ruthlessly pounds into me.
Flesh against flesh. Heartbeat against heartbeat.
He grips my wet hair, tilts my head, and licks my throat from the base of my neck to the tip of my chin. “Mine.” He grunts, thrusting harder. “All fucking mine.”
I nod my head and mumble in agreement, knowing he didn’t expect an answer but giving him one, anyway. I can’t even think straight. All I see is Tristan and all I feel is his cock as it mercilessly pounds into me.
“Moan for me.” He groans, biting my neck in a rough, animalistic claim. “Let me hear that beautiful fucking voice.”
And I do. I moan his name like I’m saying a prayer. Like he’s a god and I’m worshiping at his altar. And he fucks me like I’m his goddess. Like this is his own personal way of honoring my divinity.
A powerful orgasm ricochets through me, and my eyes roll into the back of my head. Tristan’s cock fills me up while simultaneously ripping me apart, and it is the best feeling I’ve ever had.
My pussy squeezes tightly around his cock and he fucks me harder and faster until his own climax has him groaning in rhythm with my moans. It’s animalistic. It’s primal. And it’s fucking perfect.
After coming down from our impossible high, we finish cleaning up, dry off, and eventually pull ourselves out of the bathroom. Tristan carries me to my room and carefully dresses my wounds before crawling into bed beside me. We don’t speak, but we don’t really need to. Our bodies spoke for us.
I fight to keep my eyes open as we lay in bed, gazing into each other's eyes. His lids are heavy too, and I can tell that neither of us wants this night to end. I feel a closeness to him I’ve never felt before and I don’t want anything to get in our way again. It’s like we used to be two separate planets. Afraid to get too close to each other in fear that one’s gravity will throw off the other’s. But somehow, among all the chaos, we found a way to stay in each other’s orbit and now, neither of us wants to leave.
I close my eyes, just for a moment, and breathe him in. The heady scent of a lush evergreen forest overtakes my senses and I let out a soft sigh. This is exactly where I want to be right now. With my silent protector. My breathing evens out and sleep slowly creeps in. I try to fight it, but every part of my body gets heavier and heavier with each passing moment.
“Stay?” I mumble, keeping my eyes closed. “Please.” I hate how vulnerable I sound, but I need him with me tonight, now more than ever.
Tristan presses a soft kiss on my forehead and runs his thumb along my cheek. “I’m not going anywhere, Baby.” He whispers. “You have my word.”
And with that promise, I drift off to sleep and dream of a silent knight who helped me slay my dragons and was finally ready to put down his shield.
Six
I hearthe sound of his Ducati roaring down the road seconds before his bike comes into view. I knew it was only a matter of time before he got word and as expected, Cyrus looks pissed. Staring at him from my second story office window, I watch as he dismounts his bike and quickly shoves his way towards the front entrance to Hell’s Tavern. The smoking section out front is packed, but once they see who’s barreling through, they quickly move out of his way.
The panoramic two-way mirror on the floor of my office gives me a clear view of the entire club, and as I look down, I see Cyrus enter the building. Even from nearly thirty feet away, I can see the rage radiating off of his shoulders.
Every person he comes into contact with seems to sense it too, giving him a wide berth as he passes through the packed dance floor. It’s just after 10pm and the crowd on the dance floor is just starting to get rowdier as the heavy bass thunders through the walls. Cy seems unfazed by it all as he shoves his way towards the staff-only door that leads to the second floor offices.
3… 2… 1…
“Atlas!” He booms, kicking the door off of its hinges. His boisterous voice echoes down the nearly empty corridors, making most of the startled staff scurry out of his way. “Show yourself, motherfucker!”
If he was blowing up over any other reason, I would’ve ended this tantrum before it even started. But in this case, Cy has every reason to be pissed and he just needs someone safe to let it out on.
It’s the reason I chose not to tell him the news the second I found out. I knew the minute he got word, the first thing he’d do is come to me for an explanation, rather than doing something really fucking stupid.
Stepping out of my office, I reach the top of the stairwell just in time to see Cyrus pinning an unwitting security member against the wall.
“Where the fuck is he?” He spits, his chest rising and falling in rhythm with the vein pulsing in his neck.
Instead of answering, poor Victor just trembles under Cy’s hold. Too scared shit-less to say or do anything. If he doesn’t give Cyrus an answer, he’s fucked, but he’s equally as fucked if he discloses my location without my permission. Deciding to put the poor kid out of his misery, I speak up.
“Let ‘em go Cy.” I call out in a bored tone. “I’m the one you want, remember?”
Re-entering my office, I head straight for the wet bar and pour myself a shot of Macallan. I’ve been trying to avoid drinking, but the impending conversation with Cy warrants a glass or three. Timing it perfectly, Cyrus busts through the door of my office just as I take a seat behind my desk.
“I just want to know one thing.” He spits, circling me like I’m his wounded prey. “When the fuck were you planning on telling us?”
