Drawn to You: Volume 1

By: Vanessa Booke

I’m halfway up the stairs when I feel someone grab at my heel. I turn and nearly tumble down, but warm hands are there to catch me. Despite the overwhelming darkness of the house, I know that it’s Tristan. His fingers are slightly calloused from the constant pressure of the drawing pencil in his hand. I’d recognize those hands anywhere. His body hovers slightly over mine as he stares down at me. I can feel the cold steps of the stairs digging into my back.

For a moment, the only sound I hear is the ragged breath as it flows in and out of his shallow gulps. My breath hitches as I watch the reflection of the moonlight catch his face. His hair is ruffled into a mess and there’s a strong shadow of facial hair spread across his jaw and cheekbones and around his lips. I subconsciously reach out and touch his face. His skin burns beneath my fingers. If it weren’t for what I had just seen, I would be worried that he’s getting sick.

Although the darkness of the house cloaks his frame, I know he’s fully nude. In his haste to catch me, he must’ve forgotten to cover up. It isn’t until I feel his erection pressing against my stomach that I sense a strange shift in the air between us. Without a word, Tristan positions himself between my legs. The world slows to a halt as his hand glides up my nightie. His warm fingers slide across me, leaving a trail of heat behind them. I tremble at the sensation. It’s like nothing I’ve ever imagined. It’s better. I feel him watching me as he pushes up the soft fabric of my nightgown and positions himself at the opening of my center. I writhe against him as he rubs his cock at my opening.

I moan, and in one quick movement, his fingers wrap around the front of my mouth. He stops for a moment, listening for the slightest movement upstairs. My frantic thoughts return to the memory of the woman whose legs were wrapped around his shoulders only moments earlier. Where is she?

Tristan loosens his hold on my mouth and leans in, letting out a harsh whisper against my ear. “You’re so fucking wet.”

It’s the first and only words out of his mouth before I feel him thrust inside me. A sharp pressure hits me, and I immediately push back against him. This is what my friend Ceci had warned me about. Tristan slows to a stop as he sees discomfort etched across my face. I flush as concern and then disbelief fills his eyes.

“Fuck,” he says, gritting his teeth. Without another word, Tristan pulls out, leaving me shivering against the stairs. The sudden shift in temperature from his warm body leaves me aching for him to envelop me once again.

“Emily, I didn’t know…”

His words crash over me, and I’m left with a devastating feeling of regret. In one thoughtless decision, we’ve changed everything between us.

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