Bad Things (Tristan & Danika #1)

by Lilley, R. K.

  I felt him sigh against me. “Yes, of course I will. You made your wishes very clear. I wouldn’t take that choice away from you.”

  I relaxed. He’d grasped that situation quickly.

  The old man had never used a condom, never given me a choice about it, and I’d hated that so much.

  “Thank you.”

  I heard a foil packet being opened. “Tristan,” I said quietly.

  “Yes, Danika.”

  “I trust you. It’s really nice.”

  “It is really nice. Thank you, Danika.”

  His fingers moved between my legs, slipping between wet folds to plunge into me. He started up a steady rhythm with those magical fingers. He only pulled them out when I was on the edge again, panting and twisting against the contact.

  “Danika, sweetheart?” he rasped.

  “Yes, Tristan?”

  “I’m done being sweet, if you don’t mind. I need to fuck you really hard now, if that’s okay.”

  The way he said it had me smiling, almost giggling.

  “I’ll make it good,” he promised

  “Yes,” I breathed, closing my eyes, submitting to the act as I could only seem to do with him. As strange as it seemed, this was just what I wanted, what I needed, after that confession. There was no better way for him to show me that it hadn’t changed the way he felt for me.

  He worked himself in slowly, the pressure different, more intense, at this angle. He had to drag himself slowly out, then push back in a few times, adjusting the slant of my hips, before he began to pump into me in earnest.

  My hands fisted in the sheets, my cheek flat to the bed, as he worked me from behind, his breathing heavy and harsh, loud enough to be heard even over my own uneven pants.

  He worked me so hard that his hips began to slam into me, making a slapping noise against my ass.

  I was a little shocked that there was no pain, only a pleasure building that was so big I wasn’t sure I could handle it. It was coming over me like a tidal wave, the sensations overwhelming.

  “It’s too—too much, Tristan,” I stammered, trembling with it.

  “No, sweetheart,” he panted, still driving into me, not even pausing. “Just let go. Let go for me, Danika.”

  I closed my eyes and let go. I let go of that thing inside of me that always wanted to cling to every ounce of control, and just let the waves of sensation wash over me, seeping into every pore.

  I went over the edge trembling, gasping.

  “Tristan,” I nearly shouted.

  “Danika,” he said softly, that one word full of intensity.

  He rocked deep into me twice more before he came inside of me, shaking against my back, and repeating my name raggedly.

  I loved it.

  He lay on my back, his weight pushing me down. Softly, and oh so sweetly, he kissed my neck.

  That weight on me, at one time such a terror, was now just a solid reassurance. It was absolutely flooring what trust could do.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  “I want to suck your dick,” I said into his ear, deliberately crude.

  He stiffened.

  I should have been worn out. We both should have, but we couldn’t seem to get enough of each other. A few bouts of the best sex of my life had only made me hungry for more.

  “Not in the cards tonight,” he whispered back, confirming once and for all that he had superhuman control, since I could see that he was clearly hard. Again. “No more selfless acts from you. I couldn’t stand it if I realized at the end that you were just suffering through it…”

  I smiled as I pulled out my winning hand. “I’ve never done it before.”

  He went absolutely still, not moving or speaking for a solid minute. “Excuse me?” he finally said, pulling back to look at me.

  I licked my lips slowly, drawing his attention there. “I’ve never sucked a cock before, and I’d like to suck yours. What do you say?”

  “How is that possible?”

  “The other…we just didn’t, and the two guys I’ve dated didn’t do oral, so I’ve never done it either…It only seemed fair.”

  “That’s making the whole thing seem pretty fucking calculated.”

  I shrugged one shoulder. “Am I wrong? Why should I do something they weren’t willing to do?”

  “I wasn’t talking about that. I was talking about this right here, with us. Are you only offering because I’ve done it for you?”

  I shook my head slowly, my eyes never leaving him. “I want to. I want to know what you taste like. I want to feel you coming in my mouth. I want to make you feel good. You were upset with me earlier, when I got you off with no thought to myself, but I love doing that for you. It’s almost as good as when you do it for me.”

  “You swear you want to do it? This isn’t some power play?”

  Part of me hated that he knew me well enough to act like that, to know just the way my mind worked, but another part of me loved it. There was something so comforting in the certainty that someone knew about your biggest flaws and was still willing to stick around. “I swear it’s not. I’d like to try it.” I smiled my best siren’s smile, and I knew by the heat in his eyes that it was a good one. “Pretty please, may I suck your big cock?”

  He couldn’t hold back his smile. “Now, how could I turn that down? You said pretty please, so I’m pretty sure I have to let you now.”

  “True story,” I agreed.

  I was still smiling as he came to his feet on the side of the bed, his own smiling face turned serious and harsh with intensity in a flash.

  “Get on your knees,” he said thickly.

  I did, curious and puzzled as to what he planned, but very content to let him do the planning.

  “Come here.”

  I moved to him, which brought my face very close to his erection, and meant that his plan wasn’t all that complicated.

  He fisted my hair, moving his velvety hard tip to rub along my bottom lip.

  “Open,” he told me, his breath hitching when I obeyed.

  He pushed the tip in, and then a little more, filling my mouth. I started to tense as he reached the back of my throat, but his hand stroked over my hair, and his voice was soothing as he instructed me. “Relax. Just breathe through your nose and relax.”

  I calmed, his reassuring, confident tone all it took for me. My mouth was so full of him that, even with my mouth open wide, I still felt my teeth scraping against him as he pushed into the back of my throat.

  “Careful there, sweetheart, I don’t mind a bit of pain, but easy on the teeth.”

  I pulled my lips over my teeth as he pushed himself in deeper, my mind distracted by the idea of him not minding a bit of pain.

  He pulled out and stroked into my mouth, and I was amazed at how much of him I could take, though he was careful not to gag me.

  He didn’t let up with the dirty dialogue for a second, his voice low and gravelly with need, which I found that I loved. “Your mouth feels so good. I’m not gonna last two minutes watching those gorgeous lips on my cock. Yeah, that’s it, take it deeper. Suck, baby, that’s right, suck it hard.”

  He dragged one of my hands up from the bed, gripping it hard at his thick base. “Stroke me. Hard. Jack me off into your mouth.”

  He paused, panting hard, as I obeyed, gripping his thick base hard, loving the feel of the hard smooth flesh in a way I’d never thought I could.

  “I won’t forget the sight of you like this, on your hands and knees, your mouth filled with my cock, for as long as I live. You’re the hottest fucking thing on the planet, Danika.”

  My name turned to a moan as he came in my mouth, warm liquid shooting down my throat.

  He didn’t pull out until he’d given me every shiver inducing spasm, but the second he did, he was pushing me to my back, his mouth burrowing between my legs, his magical hands busy everywhere.

  Tristan was the opposite of a selfish lover. Whatever he got, he gave back in spades.

  “You’re
loud,” he told me, when he’d wrung another glorious orgasm out of my system.

  I tried my best to muster up a decent glare. “So are you. You talk the whole time, when your face isn’t buried in my…”

  “Pussy? You draw the line at saying pussy?”

  “Shut up.”

  “And yes, I talk the whole time. Quietly. Or at least, I’m not shouting loud enough to bring the house down.”

  “Shut up,” I told him again, blushing.

  He just grinned, pushing down until his bare chest was rubbing against mine. “You tired, boo? Do you need some rest?”

  My eyes widened. “Don’t you?”

  “Sure. Eventually…”

  “What does that mean? We couldn’t possibly…not again!”

  He hitched up one muscular shoulder in a shrug, circling his hips to let me feel that, unbelievably, he could.

  “How?”

  “I just ate you out for ten minutes. It’s hard to stay unaffected by that.”

  I hooked my legs around him, grinding against him. We were skin on skin, him teasing at my entrance, and it felt amazing.

  I moaned loudly as he pushed in that first perfect inch.

  He pulled out just as quickly, going for another condom, having to dig through the covers to find one. I watched him roll it on like he did it every day, which he probably did, which I didn’t let myself think about.

  He moved back into position, easing into me, whispering rough, dirty, sweet things to me all the while. “You feel so good. So fucking tight. I’ll let you rest after this time, but don’t be shocked when you wake up with my dick inside of you sometime in the night.”

  I gasped, my only reaction to his words, since I wasn’t coherent enough to actually speak as he rocked in and out of me, the strokes long and perfect, and so smooth, considering he stretched me with his every movement.

  He pounded into me, harder and harder, not letting up, proving to me that I did like it rough, if Tristan was doing it.

  “I’m coming. Are you close?” he demanded, pulling up to look at me, his face pained.

  “Mmmm,” was the closest thing I had to an answer.

  He reached between us, his finger finding and circling my clit with unerring accuracy. It was impressive, how familiar he was with the female body, and impossible to get upset about how he’d gotten so familiar as he rocked my world, yet again.

  I came, a gasping, toe curling orgasm, and he was right there with me, biting my lower lip, and then moving to growl rough compliments into my ear that made my whole body flush with pleasure.

  Unfortunately, I didn’t wake up with Tristan inside of me. We never got the chance, as tiny fists started beating on the locked door of my bedroom before six a.m.

  I sat straight up, my eyes immediately shooting around the room, looking for clothes. I was decent by the time Tristan sat up, sheet falling to his waist, leaving his drool-inducing torso bare.

  “I’ve got this,” I told him. “You can go back to bed. I just need to go make the boys breakfast, and turn on a show.”

  I rushed into the bathroom before he could respond.

  I exited the bathroom through the rarely used hallway door, being considerate, in case Tristan had already fallen back to sleep.

  He hadn’t, and no sooner had I found a TV station with cartoons than he was in the kitchen, starting in on breakfast.

  I got Mat settled, and approached the kitchen. I leaned a hip into the counter as he got about thirty ingredients out of the fridge, going all out as usual.

  He set the eggs near the oven, strode to me, grabbed me by the hips, and lifted me onto the counter.

  He cast a quick glance in Mat’s direction before slipping his hips between my legs. He pressed against me, and dipped his mouth down for a long, hot, drugging kiss.

  He pulled back when we were both out of breath, straining hard against each other. “First chance I get,” he rasped into my ear, “I’m going to bend you over the nearest piece of furniture, and make you lose your mind again.”

  I leaned back on my hands, eyes closed, as I let myself process that. So this wasn’t over. There was more to come…

  He went back to the food, a grin on his face that would have been completely infuriating if it wasn’t also totally irresistible.

  “Nothing to say to that, boo? No witty comebacks?”

  “Good luck finding that chance,” was the best I could manage with my brain a messy puddle on the floor. “I’ve got the kids all day.”

  “You want to bet me that I can’t?”

  “Not really. You become completely unreasonable when you get a challenge in your head.”

  “I’ll take that as a yes. What do I get if I win the bet?”

  I couldn’t think of anything, so I just stared at him until he came up with something of his own.

  “Restraints,” he said, very very quietly. “That’s what I get if I win. You come to my room, my bed tonight, and I get to use restraints on you.”

  I should have been more alarmed at the prospect, considering my history, but I searched myself for the fear, and only came up with anticipation.

  “And if I win, Tristan in a bikini, right?” I shot back, just as quietly.

  “You’ve got a deal. I can’t fucking wait. Keep an eye on the stove for me. I need to go talk to Jerry.”

  I glared, my mouth dropping open. “You dirty cheater,” I told him, outraged. “If you’re doing what I think you’re doing, that is cheating…”

  He shrugged, heading down the hallway that led to Jerry’s room. “We didn’t set up rules. Don’t be a sore loser about this, boo.”

  He strode back into the kitchen less than two minutes later, a shit-eating grin on his face. “Change of plans. Bev and Jerry are taking the boys to Shark Reef after breakfast. Family day.”

  He flipped a few things on the stovetop before moving to me, pushing his hips between my knees to whisper in my ear. “I can’t decide whether I’ll bend you over the couch, and fuck you hard from behind, or take you right here, on this counter.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Bev and Jerry had the boys out of the house within two hours.

  I eyed Tristan up as I heard the door closing behind them. “What did you say to Jerry to get him moving so fast? I haven’t seen him up that early in years.”

  “I promised to let him organize something for the band in a few weeks. Dean doesn’t want a manager. He thinks he can do it himself. He can’t. He’s too shiftless to get things done for us, but I’ve been letting him find that out on his own. Jerry will be great at it, so I’m giving him a shot. Dean won’t be happy, but it had to happen sometime.”

  “Dean seems like a douche bag.”

  He just smiled. “Still mad at him for calling me the other night?”

  That was only part of it. He was just one of those people that you only expected bad things from. I didn’t say that to him, though. Dean was his friend, and I really didn’t know enough about the guy to dislike him as strongly as I did.

  He didn’t seem to expect an answer, as he shooed all of the dogs out the back door, closing and locking it with finality, before turning to me.

  He approached me, his intentions crystal clear.

  He backed me up against the arm of the couch, a wicked smile on his face all the while.

  “Turn around,” he ordered softly, his face bent down to mine.

  I turned, and he used a firm hand at my shoulder, to push me, face first, over the high arm of the couch. I was nearly upside down in that position, and as he pulled my shorts and panties off without a word, I began to worry. I was wet, but his size, and this position, seemed like a bit much for me.

  “Tristan,” I began, as he peeled my top off.

  “Don’t, Danika,” he warned, unclipping my bra, and slipping it free. “Don’t start over-thinking again. Just close your eyes and enjoy the ride.”

  I tried to listen, I really did, but I was still biting my lip, wondering how this was going to w
ork.

  Of course, that changed as he took his mouth to me from behind.

  There was no warning at all, just his hot tongue pushing at my clit, his access perfect with the angle.

  He gripped the insides of my thighs, pushing me up and thrusting his tongue deep inside.

  I writhed, my nails raking at anything in reach, finally snagging at a throw pillow.

  He pulled back, but a quick rustle of clothes later, and the very distinct sound of a foil packet being opened, and he was back, but not with his mouth.

  He worked his thick length into me slowly, pushing deep, squeezing in so tight at that angle that it felt like he was taking me over. The pressure was so intense, just with the filling of me, that I had to bite the little throw pillow to stifle a scream.

  He dragged himself out in an agonizingly slow pull that rubbed against every sensitive nerve that I possessed.

  I whimpered and clawed.

  He kept up a steady, filthy dialogue the entire time. It was official; he was a talker. He wasn’t loud, his voice low and gravelly, and when his breath would catch mid-sentence, or go unsteady with his lust, I thought it was hottest thing in the world.

  “I can feel your inner muscles working on me, sweetheart. You squeeze me with every move. That feels so perfect. I knew it would be this good with us. So fucking good.”

  His voice grew rougher and rougher as he increased the speed of his strokes, and at that extreme angle, every stroke was a shock to my system. A good shock. An incredible shock.

  His hands were gripping my hips firmly as he worked at me from behind, and when one hand snaked down to rub my clit, I couldn’t hold back my cries, or the orgasm that was building up like a storm inside of me.

  “Say my name, Danika. Say my name when you lose your mind.”

  I did. I practically shouted it as I came hard, the orgasm hitting me like a punch to the gut. I felt myself squeezing him as tremors shook me, and I knew the second he followed as he shouted my name.

  His cock shoved deep inside of me and held, jerking with his release. I could feel every last twitch with the angle, and I adored it more than I’d ever thought I could adore something like this. Apparently I could handle rough sex, if the circumstances were right.