The Truth of Tristan Lyons

by L. B. Dunbar

  She opened her mouth then closed it, biting her lips to prevent from speaking.

  “What?” I looked at her.

  “Were…were you waiting for me?” she asked shyly, wrapping her hand around my hot shaft and pulling gently, how I liked it.

  “Not exactly.”

  Immediately her face fell, and she smiled falsely as she returned her mouth to my chest. I pushed her back.

  “I was waiting for you,” I said, looking directly into her eyes. “I was not expecting this, but I was expecting you.”

  She smiled softly and I had to kiss her. My mouth devoured hers in hopes to capture her smile. She opened her lips as invitation for my tongue. I proceeded forward, dancing with hers until I felt my zipper unzipped. She was working fast. I knew that if I didn’t enter her soon, it would be over too quickly for me. I was growing used to the adventures we had together and getting off without being inside her. But the anticipation of what was to come made me harder than I’d been all week, if that was even possible.

  She slipped my shorts down my hips. I sat up, halting her descent on me. I slipped off her skirt and underwear instead then lay her back down. She reached for me.

  “You first,” I said halting her hand and holding it mid-air.

  “Together,” she sighed into my mouth as she kissed me. She pulled her hand out of mine to place it on my chest. I rolled us, so she was on her back and I lay next to her. My eyes slowly travelled up her body absorbing every inch of her tan skin. We’d had clothing removed, but we had never been completely naked with one another. That would have been too dangerous.

  I climbed her legs with my eyes, tracing her hips and the mound of hair that protected her most private parts. I dipped into her belly button as I scanned her flat stomach and reached her breasts. My eyes continued to tickle over those small globes, and my mouth watered with the need to take them each in turn. My ascent up her finished as I followed her collarbone to the conjuncture of her shoulder and neck that made her moan. My visual assault of her body ended when I looked at her swollen pink lips and into her blue eyes, bright with desire.

  “You are so gorgeous,” I sighed as I stared at her a few moments longer. She smiled slowly and might have even blushed under the moonlight. I felt myself flinch against her hip, and I slipped between her legs; my hands on either side of her head as I kissed her again softly.

  “It’s going to sting, at first. I promise I’ll go slow. You can stop me now or any time, although it might be hard to reverse anything once we start.” I kissed her again. She swallowed hard, but didn’t answer me.

  “Are you sure about this? You’re giving something very special to me,” I said softly.

  “I want it to be you,” she whispered.

  My fingers slipped down the side of her body to the folds of her heat, which were slick and ready for me. I slid a finger inside, and she bucked her hips to press against me.

  “You’re so ready for me,” I said, as I slid another finger into her warmth. My thumb found the trigger on the outside of her, that I knew she liked to have stroked. It set her off. She closed her eyes and tilted her head slightly back; taking in the pleasure I gave her.

  “Look at me,” I said. “I want you to see it’s me.”

  Her eyes quickly opened and pierced me with their intensity: sapphires sparkling in the moonlight. She focused on me, as if she were hypnotizing me, while I worked her. I was less than a millimeter from where I needed to be to enter her, and she continued to moan my name, moving her hips in a rhythm against my fingers. My manhood flinched. It wanted entrance to her. I had to take a breath to calm myself, not wanting to end anything before it began.

  “Tristan,” she whimpered.

  “Yes, gorgeous,” my voice teased her. I recognized the signs. I knew her signs; tilted head, moaning cry, tightening channel.

  “Tristan,” she sighed. Her hands gripped my hips in an effort to bring me to her.

  “What, gorgeous?” I teased again.

  “Tristan,” her voice demanded. “Now,” she cried out, as her pleasure took her. She squeezed my hips with her fingertips, tugging me hard toward her. I might almost have bruises from the force of her grasp.

  Taking the hint, I slid into her, hoping the distraction of her orgasm would hide the initial pain of the amazing experience. She stilled beneath me quicker than normal, and I stopped.

  “You okay?” I asked, kissing her nose.

  “Yes,” she choked, nodding. “Are you…are you all the way in?” she hesitated.

  “No,” I sighed.

  “Go,” she said softly. I plowed forward. Something felt different to me. This was nothing like the countless other women I had been with.

  “Fuck, you’re so tight.”

  She was also warm. I wasn’t expecting the warmth that embraced me, or the wetness that surrounded me, allowing me to glide into her. I held still, allowing her to adjust to me, but I needed that moment, too. I was overwhelmed at both the sensation of her around me and an emotion inside me that I didn’t recognize.

  A lone tear slid from her eyes.

  “Did I hurt you?”

  “Yes…and no.”

  “What’s wrong? Do you want me to stop?”

  Please say no, I thought.

  “No. Aren’t we supposed to move?”

  I laughed a little and felt the vibration throughout my body and into hers.

  “Yes. Whenever you’re ready.”

  “I’m ready,” she said eagerly.

  I slid back to the edge of her then slipped forward to fill her. She moaned and her insides gripped me. Her ankles slid up my calves, and I used a hand to guide her thighs to wrap around my hips. With her legs circling my waist, I was able to enter her fully. I repeated the movement, pulling back to her edge then sliding forward to fill her.

  “Again,” she moaned, tugging on my ass, forcing me forward.

  I repeated the motion as she clenched around me. The signs where there that she was close.

  “Again,” I demanded of her.

  “I…I didn’t finish before.” She swallowed and looked away from me.

  “What?” I stopped.

  “I wasn’t done when you entered me.”

  “Why didn’t you say something?”

  “I am now.” She moved her hips, and I began the steady rhythm again. Speeding up, I worried I would explode before her completion. I wanted this to be good for her.

  “Finish, Irish,” I grunted at her.

  She clenched and squeezed her legs around me, screaming out my name. I followed immediately, feeling my release spill into her. Briskly, I pulled back then pressed forward with one last thrust, feeling the final pulse of me inside her.

  Shit. I knew why it felt different. I hadn’t worn a condom.

  I pulled out quickly and Ireland’s eyes opened wide.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I didn’t use a condom. I’m so sorry.”

  She looked at me a moment without blinking before she spoke.

  “Is that bad? I mean, I didn’t mind, unless you did?” She swallowed hard again, holding back something in her voice.

  “I’m clean. I swear. I’ve never been without a condom, ever. And I’m checked often, because…” I stopped myself before I reminded us both of my numerous experiences.

  She looked away from me. I’d ruined the moment for her anyway, and I cursed myself.

  I used my finger to draw her face to me.

  “That was amazing,” I told her. “It was like nothing I’d ever felt before.”

  “Really?” she asked softly, again hesitantly.

  “Really.”

  Chapter 20

  [Ireland]

  When moonlight joined two as one,

  I didn’t believe he’d go through with it. After sending me away for the day, I had convinced myself that he had done it to be with another woman. He had needs; I understood that. Our nightly lessons could not have been enough to satisfy him.

  I ha
d missed him all day. From the moment I left, I felt cut off from him and had been distracted, at first, during the flora and fauna tour. I eventually let my thoughts of him go long enough to learn a few things about the native plants and bushes of the island. How they grew within the sandy soil and warmer climate. Lunch was an experience of oral celebration. It was explained to me how the different textures and flavors worked with the fish, the native staple of the island.

  He must have wanted more time away from me when he didn’t contact me throughout the day, so I invited myself to the evening tour to watch the flowers close at sunset, with champagne in hand. It could have been a romantic experience and many couples were present under the fading sun, watching as the flowers slowly said good-bye to another incredible day. When I got home, I wasn’t sure if I should go to Tristan’s room or not. The door was closed. Although I had been hopeful he was waiting for me, I was more than disappointed that he not only wasn’t waiting, but he was behind closed doors.

  For several minutes, I stood in my room worried that another woman was present or had already been there during the day. My anxiety was growing and before I could stop myself, I went to his room. I was surprised to find Tristan sitting alone in the dark when he invited me to enter the bedroom. I’d seen the moonlight on the cab ride home. When I opened the curtains to see him better, I was distracted by the glowing sphere over the sea. Taking strength from its presence, I asked him outright to make love to me.

  My only fear was his rejection. If he had been with another woman earlier in the day, he might not want to repeat the act, especially with someone as inexperienced as me. In that case, I didn’t want to be his second performance of the day. If he hadn’t been with another woman, he still might not want to be with me. I needed to have him. I needed to know what sex would be like when you loved the other person. Despite what Tristan might think of me, I knew without a doubt, I was in love with him. From my side, I would pretend he loved me in return, because my feelings for him would be enough.

  What I didn’t expect was how intimate it would feel, minus his profession of love. He was careful and considerate. There were moments when I suspected he would change his mind, but he didn’t. Even the moment when I lost my orgasm, I was overwhelmed with the emotion of having sex with him. The physical pleasure was more than I’d ever known. Screaming his name in ecstasy proved my animalistic loss of control, but I hadn’t been prepared for the emotional release, which caused tears to escape my eyes. I loved him. I’d never felt closer to another person than at that moment. From my toes to my head, I felt worshipped by him as he moved inside me, filling me with emotion I was certain I would never experience again in my life.

  Until we did it again.

  Under the bright moonlight that cascaded into his room, he cradled me in his arms. My face pressed into his chest, his hands on my back, stroking gently.

  “Are you sore? Did I hurt you?”

  I could only shake my head against his hot skin. My eyes traced the outline of the dragon tattoo on his chest, eating at his heart. I’d need a matching tattoo, because my heart would be eaten away when we left each other.

  “Want to take a bath?” he asked with concern in his voice. “It will soothe the sting.”

  “Okay,” I said, attempting to roll away from him, but he held me to him, his hands firmly on my back.

  “Ireland?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Can I take the bath with you?” he asked sheepishly.

  “Really?”

  “Really,” he answered. It seemed to be our word for the night.

  Really. If only the whole experience had been real for both of us.

  Tristan drew the bath, filling the extra-large tub and turning on the soft jets of the Jacuzzi. As his room was one of two master-sized bedrooms, the bathroom was extremely large with additional amenities. It had a long counter with his and hers sinks, a privacy wall for the toilet, a couple’s shower and an oversized tub with jets like a hot tub. He helped me enter the tub and then slipped in behind me. My back was to his front, and his long legs crossed over mine, displacing the water. I tried to cover my breasts with the foaming water but it wasn’t working with how we fit in the tub together.

  We were silent for several minutes, listening to the jet spray. Tristan had dimmed the lights to low. The ambiance of the room was soothing, combined with the warm water and his body surrounding me.

  “Ireland, you okay?” Tristan’s soft voice sounded behind me as he kissed my shoulder.

  “Mmmm…” was all I could reply.

  “Going to fall asleep?”

  My eyes sprang open as I tried to sit forward. I had been dozing off against him.

  “No.”

  “I wear you out?” he laughed gently, as he tightened his legs over mine and wrapped his hand around my waist to hold me against him.

  “Maybe,” I sighed.

  We were quiet for a few minutes longer.

  “Can I ask you something?” his voice sounded nervous.

  “Anything,” I replied hesitantly.

  “Have you thought about going home?”

  I immediately stiffened against him. This time I pushed his hand off me and turned to face him. His eyes were full of concern.

  “Have you thought about going home? When it will be?” he repeated.

  I twisted to sit back against the opposite side of the tub, hugging my knees up to my chest as I slid under the water enough to cover myself. His feet were wedged under my hips and ass. I felt more naked at that moment than when we were joined as one.

  “Why?”

  “I was thinking. What if…what if you came home with me? We could figure some way to get you out of this mess with your uncle, and your family friend, and your parents. I could…”

  Before I knew what I was doing, I sprang for him. I straddled his waist, feeling my center press into his abs as I wiggled my feet next to his hips. I had my hands on his shoulders to steady myself.

  “You’d marry me?” I stupidly blurted.

  “I…well, I…” Tristan’s awkward struggle told me the answer. I’d made an erroneous assumption.

  “That was a generous offer.” I attempted to smile, my heart falling into my stomach. “Just the fact that you…want to help means everything to me, but I don’t know how to get out of the mess I’m in.”

  “Do you want out of it?”

  I pulled back from him, but his hands landed on my ass and held me against him. I let my fingertip trace his collarbone.

  “There’s nothing, and I mean nothing, I want more than to get out of marrying someone I don’t love.”

  His moss green eyes were almost black with something I couldn’t read. Anger. Concern. Frustration.

  “There must be a way. Come home with me and we can work it out. I’ll help you.”

  “Unless you’re offering marriage, there isn’t much you can do.”

  I immediately regretted my statement again. Marriage was something a man like Tristan Lyons would never do. He liked women too much.

  “What?” he snapped and I blinked avoiding his glare. “What’s that look?”

  “Nothing,” I smiled weakly at him.

  “Do you really want me to marry you?”

  I looked up at him, but he had been teasing me.

  “Marry you?” I attempted to laugh. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’ll figure something out.”

  “Come home with me and we’ll figure something out together.”

  I shook my head and leaned forward to kiss him lightly. I intended it to be sweet and telling, letting him know I appreciated his offer. However, he took my lips captive the instant we connected. The water splashed as his hands left my ass and gripped my head to hold me to him. He devoured my lips before entering my mouth with his forceful tongue. He traced mine and swirled against my teeth, then pulled back to start the feasting over again. I was breathless by the time he drew away with a softer kiss. His hardness pressed into my backside. He wanted me again.
r />   I didn’t want to ask him if he’d ever had sex in a tub. I knew the answer. But I hadn’t. I wondered if he would experiment with me one more time. I moved my hips upward and inched down to place my middle over the stiff length of him. I sat down gently, still balancing myself with my hands on my shoulders.

  “What are you doing?” he rasped, his voice full of temptation.

  “I was wondering…” I hesitated as I pressed against him more firmly.

  “What were you wondering, my Irish Isle?”

  “If you’d give me another…” I paused and looked over his shoulder.

  “What, gorgeous?”

  “Another lesson?” my voice squeaked, as I slid forward on him, so his head poked against my willing entrance. The warmth of the water did nothing to cover the wetness that I was convinced spread out of me. I needed to feel full from him again. I gently rocked on his tip, balancing, when he forced me down over him as if he meant to impale me. I gasped at the sensation and my eyes widened at the swiftness of his movement.

  “You’re going to be sore,” he warned me, as he gently nudged my hips with his hands to move on him.

  I rocked back and forth as he directed me.

  “Ireland,” he warned. “I don’t have a condom on again.”

  “Mmm…” I moaned when I leaned to his lips. “Do you want me to stop?”

  “I want you to slip up and down,” he growled. I followed his lead, sliding to the tip of him; holding still and watching his eyes warn me to complete him. I slammed down on him as the water sloshed around us. Tristan’s eyes rolled back. I repeated the motion.

  “Will I hurt you if I go faster?” I innocently asked.

  He choked on his reply of no, and I began a steady rhythm of climbing up him, and plunging down. Faster and faster I rotated, until he was gasping for breath as he called my name.

  “Ireland. Shit. You feel so good.”

  “Come,” I demanded, uncertain where the aggressiveness sparked inside me.