“Have I told you how incredible you are?” he asked, simply; his eyes still locked on her. She bit the exquisite fullness of her lower lip as her mouth attempted to smile at his words.
At that moment, the waiter brought over the wine and champagne, pouring Tristan’s first to make sure he approved of their selection. A brief nod signaled to the waiter to continue pouring their glasses, while they sat silently waiting for their privacy to return.
As soon as the waiter left, indicating he would be back soon to take their order, Tristan raised his glass, “To you, my exquisite Ellie; may the world never cease to amaze you like you never cease to amaze me.”
She, in turn, raised hers, but before touching it against his contributed, “To you, Tristan, for your success this week in changing one man’s life like you have changed mine.”
Their glasses clinked together while their eyes remained focused on each other, the deep implications behind their sentiments not lost on either one of them.
What was happening between them was not what either had planned.
Of course, Tristan began to order for the two of them, knowing exactly what to pick. Ellie didn’t mind, tonight…every night…with Tristan was all about new things.
With a devious gleam in his eyes, Tristan decided to start the night off on the right note by ordering thirty grams of Special Reserve Ossetra caviar. He thoroughly enjoyed watching Ellie’s eyes widen when she looked to see that it was a five-hundred-dollar appetizer. To vary the options, he chose the veal and the European Turbot for their mains, thanking the waiter when he was done.
“Have you had the caviar here before?” Ellie squeaked out.
“Of course,” he smiled, “just trust me.”
“Oh, I do,” she replied, enthusiastically, causing a twinge of guilt to burn in his chest, “but, I have to say that I hesitate to believe that any kind of fish eggs are worth that much money.”
“They’re delicious, Ellie, you’ll see. Plus, it’s not about them being worth that much money, it’s about me being able to watch you try caviar for the first time that is worth that much money to make sure that you enjoy it,” he explained, taking a long sip of his wine, drinking in the sight of her.
Her face flushed in response, but she didn’t reply, instead following his lead and taking a drink from her glass, too. Tristan watched as her lips closed over the pungent liquid, her eyes fluttering shut as the soft burn of the alcohol warmed her mouth and throat as she swallowed. His jaw clenched, biting back a groan, wishing that he could feel the soft burn of her mouth around his persistent erection right now.
Not now, Tristan.
He forced his lustful thoughts down with another sip of the wine, giving Ellie a chance to choose the direction of their conversation.
“So, what happened with Jim? What did he say?” she questioned, her eyes wide with desire to hear just how she’d helped him secure the biggest deal of his professional career.
Tristan began his tale just as the waiter delivered the caviar. “I promise, I’ll tell you the rest, you just have to taste this first,” he insisted.
Eager to comply, if for no other reason than to hear about the rest of his conversation, Ellie moved to pick up the small spoon on the plate, asking, “so, how do I do this?”
Tristan’s hand reached out to grab hers, grasping her fingers tight with his for a split second while he said, “You don’t; I’ll feed it to you, gorgeous, right now, I need to be the one putting something in your mouth.” His voice deep and grating with desire, his gaze conveying exactly every wicked thought that was passing through his mind.
Releasing her hand, he took his time picking up the perfect bite for her to taste, his eyes locking with hers when he was ready, soundlessly asking her to open her mouth. Her stare never leaving his, the sweetness of her lips parting in silent submission ready to try whatever it was that he wanted. Tristan held his breath, gently placing the spoon between her lips, watching as their luscious fullness closed over the utensil to gently pull its contents completely into her mouth.
As always, her reaction was more than he could have expected, watching the subtle movements of her muscles as her mouth took in the intense and complex flavors of the dish. Watching her was like watching a firework show, the handful of tiny bursts combined with the larger expressions made for a mesmerizing display that was constantly changing into something just as beautiful.
The caviar? Five-hundred dollars. Her expression while she tasted it? Priceless.
“That was…” Ellie began, pausing to think how to describe it, “very interesting.”
“Interesting good or interesting bad?” he countered, wondering if he had been mistaken about how much she would love it.
“Interesting good, don’t worry,” she clarified with a smile, “I just don’t know how to describe it, it’s like nothing I’ve ever tasted before and that, might just be what I enjoy most about it.” The unabashed honesty of her comment surprised him. She’d been relatively quiet about her past after that one night – then again, so had he. She was looking to forget her past and her past self, but this time what she said carried no hint of sadness, only a sort of satisfied resignation. He bit his tongue as it attempted to revolt with curiosity
Now was not the time or place to have a discussion about her past.
She was so fucking beautiful and happy like he’d never seen her before, he wouldn’t be the one to shatter that with the weights of her past. Not to mention, he wasn’t sure he could handle hearing more about her abuse; the seething rage that had seared through him had taken days for him to work off.
“Can you give me another bite?” her expectant gaze breaking through his thoughts.
A confident smile spread over his face as he met her eager expression, enjoying the fact that she asked him to feed her more caviar even more than point that she had enjoyed it enough to want more. He gave her another generous spoonful of the delicacy before finally giving himself a taste.
After that brief intermission, he continued on with the story of his call with Jim. He hadn’t known that it was Jim’s father who had given him the money to start the business; he hadn’t known that Jim had a son who was going to take over the company, but had died in Iraq first. Vanguard was a major supporter of the Wounded Warriors charity because of Jim’s loss, and as he went to sign the papers to legally hand everything over to Tristan, all of the implications of what he was about to do had sunk it. Jim was, of course, a realist; he knew it was going to happen eventually, but by calling, Tristan learned that it was an emotional upheaval against the logical conclusion.
“Oh wow,” Ellie said, sympathy written all over her face, her hand coming up to brush away a tear at the mention of what happened to Jim’s son.
“So,” he continued, “I listened to him, like you suggested; I listened instead of lashing out and what I learned was that all he wanted was to feel like I wasn’t going to take his company and then proceed to take away everything that it stood for.”
The food took that moment to arrive, another brief intermission as he divvied up the entrées so that they could both have some of each.
“What did you do?” Ellie asked, just as she put her first bite of the veal into her mouth.
“So, I told him that I would make sure the entire company knew Vanguard’s roots,” Tristan explained, taking a bite of the Turbot, “and then I promised him that Black Box would not only continue to make the same amount of donations to the Wounded Warriors, but that I would double his one-hundred-thousand-dollar donation in the name of his son.” Here his story stopped, watching and waiting for her response.
“That is incredible, Tristan,” she said, her voice thick with emotion.
God, she was fucking incredible.
She’d freaked out over five-hundred-dollar caviar, but the mention of the two hundred thousand going to charity she didn’t even bat an eye at. The only thing affecting her was the fact that he had promised to keep Jim’s donation in honor of his so
n. He’d known the money wouldn’t impress her, but he loved to see it; he loved to see that someone could care so little about how much money he had, only how much good it could do for others.
“It’s all because of you,” he replied, “now, I’m done talking for the night. I want to know how your week went. Have you looked more into what you want to do? Where you want to go?”
This time when he asked, his gut didn’t clench at the thought of her leaving. He didn’t want to admit it, but the thought didn’t bother him because he knew he would never leave, or at least never let her leave without him.
“Pretty good,” she said with a smile, “I actually talked to my dad about my plans earlier in the week for the first time; I was surprised how excited he seemed for me. Honestly, I had expected a guilt trip for the thought of leaving him ‘all alone’ or even him wanting to go with me.” When she laughed, rolling her eyes at the memory, it was then that his gut did clench at the reminder of Jack Carter, and everything that he had done.
And the fact that it must be nice to have a father who is so concerned about you.
He rather preferred to forget about that part.
“Anyway,” she continued, shaking her head on the digression, “I told him and not only did he really want me to go, but he offered to talk to one of his clients that runs some of his business from Ireland.”
“What business? What would you be doing?” Tristan asked intently, watching as the waiter came back over to take their plates.
“Would you care to see the dessert menu?” the man asked, his question directed first to Ellie.
“No, I’m fine, thank you,” she replied, politely, “unless you want to see the options, Tristan, I’ll share something with you if you want to eat dessert.” She quickly rambled at the end, not wanting to make the decision for the both of them.
His gaze deepened on her, completely ignoring the waiter patiently awaiting his answer. “I’m already looking at the only option that I want.” Her face turned bright red, eyes darting to the waiter hoping that he hadn’t heard Tristan, but knowing that if she had heard him, there was no way the waiter hadn’t.
“No, we are all set, thank you so much,” Ellie stuttered out, trying to find a way out of her embarrassment as quickly as possible. “I can’t believe you just said that,” she exclaimed as soon as the waiter walked away to get their check.
“Believe it because it’s the truth, sweetheart; I’ve been waiting to eat you all week.”
If possible, her face got even redder, except this time it wasn’t embarrassment that shown in her eyes, it was excitement. Her gaze turned an electric emerald with desire, shining starkly as he watched the heat of sexual need spread through her.
The waiter came back with the check and Tristan immediately gave his card, not looking at him or the bill. They left the restaurant in silence, words unable to communicate what was needed between them; their only contact was physical – Tristan’s hand planted firmly on the small of her back as they walked briskly back to his apartment, both anxiously aroused in anticipation for what was to come.
Stepping into the elevator, the doors closed giving them their first moment of complete privacy – one that he wasn’t going to waste.
Tristan spun her around, her back pressed flat against the back wall as his mouth came down hard on hers. Her response was immediate and effusive, giving all of her, but taking everything of him in return. The too-brief moment of the elevator ride ended with a halting ‘ding’. Tristan pulled back from her, panting with need. He grabbed her hand and led her off of the elevator, unlocking the door to his apartment. Just inside the threshold, he stopped, turning to face her with lust blazing in his eyes.
“Are you sure you want to come in?” Tristan ground out, needing to give her one last chance to escape him, knowing that what they were about to do would make what he had done even more painful to her in the future.
Her eyes glowed bright with desire as her mouth moved in a breathless whisper, “I’m sure that I want you.”
Chapter 23
Her eyes begged him to take her, to continue what he had started and promised. Her words a drifted over him – a plea with the slightest hint of desperation in them too faint for him to notice in the state that he was in. All he heard was that she needed him just as badly as he needed her.
Thank fuck.
Tristan pulled her to him, his mouth reclaiming its position over hers. Her sweet lips parting readily, beckoning his tongue to enter. He tasted her, drank from her, explored every crevice of her honeyed mouth until she was moaning beneath him.
He’d wanted to take this slow; he’d wanted to bring her back here and show her that he’d started her final portrait for the competition. He’d chosen to reproduce the moment she realized he had brought her to ‘Hamilton’; her expression of sheer joy was one that he hadn’t been able to shake from his head. Everything was all set up, too, in the living room just a few feet from where they were standing, unfortunately, that thought was now miles away from the front of his mind. All those thoughts had gone out the window the second he had opened his door to her tonight. Her dress, her confidence, and mostly her desire for him exuding out of her all through dinner put every thought out of his mind except one – he had to have her.
Tristan groaned at the feel of her soft flesh moving against him, pushing into his body as she silently asked him for more; his lower half ready to answer her and take her here, up against his front door. If they didn’t move soon, the chance of that happening was becoming greater by the minute.
Bending down, Tristan reached under her legs and hoisted her into the air, enjoying the small gasp that broke her lips from his before he reclaimed them. For the second time in just as many weeks, he carried Ellie into his bedroom, except this time when he laid her on his bed, his body took the place of the blanket covering her with his hardness. Ellie moaned into him, both with desire and frustration, her legs attempting to part so that he could settle more fully between them, but the tightness of her dress getting in the way. Her hand moved frantically from behind his shoulders to the front of his chest, her small fingers making quick work of the buttons that she could reach. Even though she hadn’t undone them all, he felt her begin to tug his shirt from his shoulders, the fabric pulling tight against him as there wasn’t enough slack to completely clear his muscular frame. Yet, she kept tugging.
Tristan groaned, pulling his mouth from hers as he let out a soft chuckle, “Hold on, siren, let me help you.” Pushing himself up and off of her, he ripped off the rest of the buttons, roughly tugging his shirt out of his pants and pulling over his head.
She was looking at him like she wanted to devour every piece of skin that he was exposing. Her eyes were a luminescent green, their passionate glow pulling him back to her, demanding to be fulfilled. With one knee on the bed, looking down at her, he unzipped his distended pants, letting them hang loosely at his hips, not trusting himself to take them off right now. At least undone they provided some relief to his thick erection.
“You are the one who should be a model,” she whispered to him, the awe in her voice unmistakable as her hand reached up to touch him or to pull him down to her, he wasn’t sure. All he knew is that the angel in his bed right now had on far too many clothes.
Taking her hand, he pulled her up to sitting, watching her eyes widen in question.
“Kneel and turn around,” he instructed, his hand keeping a firm grasp on hers to steady her as she moved over the soft mattress. When she was facing away from him, her ankles hanging off the edge of the bed, he gently ran his fingers down the full length of the zipper, pausing where it ended, right on the height of her perfectly round ass.
Bringing his hand back up to the tab of the zipper he slowly lowered it the entire way. His entire body burned with lust, demanding that he move faster, but something more, something stronger had him moving in slow motion, as if he was trying to capture every line, every curve of her in perfect detail with his touch. Th
e material parted slightly, offering him a glimpse at the creamy skin that lie beneath.
He placed his hands underneath the top edges of her dress, his palms resting on her shoulder blades. “Tristan,” he heard her whisper as her whole body shivered underneath his touch, goosebumps coating the soft skin underneath his fingers.
“Patience,” he said, unsure if it was more of a command for her or himself. His hands began to move, pushing the thicker, white material of her dress off of her shoulders and down her arms. Needing no encouragement, Ellie finished pulling her forearms out of the sleeves, leaving her bare, except for her bra from the waist up.
Tristan groaned, toying with the clasp of her white lace bra for a moment before he unhooked it, leaving no time for any second thoughts got the best of him. He peeled the straps off of her shoulders, the only thing holding it on now was her arms pressed against her body, where they remained for an instant longer before her head tipped back and she shrugged the undergarment free from her chest, tossing it onto the floor.
Moving on to the next barrier in front of him, he grabbed the folded-down part of her dress, slowing unwrapping it from her ass.
Fuck, if only all presents were this enticing.
His mouth watered as the sweet curves, barely concealed beneath her matching white-lace cheekies, were revealed to him. Her dress now pooled around her knees, his hands immediately went to the curves in front of him, gently squeezing the globes in his hands, running a finger tortuously underneath the lower edge of her panties, letting it follow the seam up and over the soft flesh, continuing down underneath between her legs. Even though to him, his finger was still miles away from those sweet folds of hers, the evidence of her arousal was completely soaking through her underwear, starting to spread up the back of them.
“Tristan, please,” she moaned, her back flexing to try and force his fingers to the source of her desire. He clenched his teeth as a jolt of lust shocked through him. Firmly clasping her hips, he pulled her upper body back against him, one hand snaking around the grab the freed mound of her breast.
The Artist's Touch (The Gentlemen's Guild Book 1) Page 26
