Drawn to You: Volume 3

By: Vanessa Booke

I look over to find Tristan’s heated gaze watching me with intensity as I dress.

“In fact, I think I’ll shower with you,” he says.

My heart catapults in my throat as he walks over toward me and captures my lips. The kiss is torturously slow at first, but it increases each moment with a renewed intensity. I feel his hands running through my hair and then down my ass. It isn’t long before we’re both crashing back onto the bed. My head spins with thoughts of Tristan taking me once again.

“I need you,” he says, breaking the kiss.

I bite back a moan as his lips graze my down my neck.

“I need you, too.”

Tristan’s erection digs into my stomach as he grinds his hips, leaving me breathless and gasping for him. I’ve never been so turned on without even taking off my clothes.

“Fuck, I want to spank you again and bury my cock inside you.”

Despite the deep tenor of Tristan’s voice, I don’t blush at his words. Instead, I swivel my hips into his as he grinds his erection against me again. Last night was the first time anyone has ever spanked me, and I can’t help but hope it won’t be the last. It’s strange to admit, but I loved the explosive sensation that rippled through me when Tristan did it. I’m not even sure why that is, but it doesn’t stop me from wanting more. I slide up my nightie at the feeling of his erection rubbing against my thigh. He moans in approval.

“Why are you so fucking beautiful?”

Tristan’s words both shock and amaze me. I watch with anticipation as he takes charge and pushes me back against his bed. My heart swells as he looks down at me with a blinding smile. The sight of it renders me speechless, and it only widens at my silence. There’s a wild look about Tristan as his hair sits ruffled back on his head. His light bronze skin blends perfectly with his hazel eyes.

“I wish we were back at my studio,” he says with a growl. “I have some chains that you would look lovely in.”

Whoa, chains?

Tristan smiles as if reading my racing thoughts. I wish we could stay here. I’m afraid the moment we walk out of this room, everything will change. Reality sinks in even further as each minute passes. Unfortunately, we can’t stay in here forever.

“What are you thinking about?” Tristan asks, pulling back.

I hesitate at first to answer him, but after several seconds, I give myself permission to touch him. His eyes widen as I reach out and trace my hand from his neck, over his chest, and down to his abs. Me being here with him feels so surreal. It’s difficult to even wrap my head around the idea. Tristan’s ragged breathing turns heavier.

“I keep thinking about how much I wish you would’ve never left.”

Tristan stops touching me and pulls back. He sits on his heels and watches me from the edge of the bed. The pensive look on his face immediately makes me regret bringing up the topic. It takes him several seconds before he finally answers me.

“I can’t take the past back, but I can tell you there wasn’t a day I didn’t think about you.”

I want to believe his words. I want to know they’re true, but I was the only one he pushed away.

“Why did you stay away from me?” I blurt. “Nick still had you, but you completely cut me off.”

A sea of emotions washes over Tristan’s face.

“I couldn’t have you…”

“What’s different now? I ask.

His face suddenly grows serious.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about.”

My chest aches as Tristan reaches out and brushes back a blonde strand of my hair. He’s all I’ve ever wanted. I tried to forget him over the years, but trying to forget him only made me think about him more. You exhaust more energy attempting to forget someone than letting it occur naturally. I’ve only managed to etch him further into my heart.

“So tell me…” I plead.

A loud rapping on the door interrupts us. My gaze goes flying to it as I stumble backward on the bed.

“Morning, sunshine!”

Ceci’s bright voice calls to me through the door. My heart skips a beat as the doorknob jiggles. Did we lock it? A streak of panic goes off like a flare gun as we both scramble to gather our clothes. Oh, God. I nearly fall off of the bed as I scramble for my clothes. Tristan wrangles on a pair of black jeans and a tight black t-shirt. After a few seconds, he helps me slip my nightie back on.

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