Tristan emerged from the bathroom a moment later holding a liquid bottle. "I couldn't find the lavender oil but I found this..." He looked at the bottle again. "...whatever this is. I think it'll do.

I exhaled harshly, running a hand through my hair. "Tristan, don't do this, you don't need to."

He walked towards the bed. "We've already talked about this princess, there's no use trying to talk me out of it because I am not going to change my mind. Now, tell me where it hurts."

I licked my lips nervously. Why did this man have to be so difficult? "Have you ever given a massage before?"

He stopped in front of me and set his hands on his hips like he was striking a pose for an underwear ad, and lord knew how hard it was trying to stop my eyes from lowering to his bulge that was staring right at me!

"No, but I know a thing or two about giving one."

I tilted my head up and away from the temptation. "But you—" I started, trying to stall, but he placed a finger over my lips, shutting me up.

"Stop trying to deter me from taking care of you, Sienna. I want to do this. Let me." His expression softened and when I looked him in the eye, all I could see was honesty.

Crap. Fine. I brushed off his finger and licked my lips again. "My back hurts," I admitted, looking away. "And my shoulders too."

With a sigh of gratitude, he climbed into the space behind me, and my stomach clenched in anticipation of his touch.

"Princess," he called, placing both hands on my shoulders. "You're going to need to take off your shirt for me."

His simple, unexpected command made my body tense. I turned slightly to stare at him, and although the reason was pretty obvious, I still asked. "W-why?"

"Because, darling, I need to layer oil on your skin."

"Can't you just do it without the oil?"

"I can." He considered. "But it might hurt you and that's the last thing I want, so take off your shirt."

Right, fuck. Swallowing the thick lump in my throat, I turned away from him and reached for the top button on his oversized dress shirt covering me. I didn't give my mind the chance to question or talk me out of this. With my heart beating ten times faster, I popped open the first button, and then the second, and the third, baring myself until the shirt slipped down my shoulders and formed a pile on my waist. Crap, why did I feel so naked? Maybe it was because I probably was. My tits were out in the air and the only piece of clothing I had on was my black panties.

"Do you have a hair tie?" Tristan asked me, breaking me out of my internal debate.

I swallowed again, pushing down the raging urge to cover myself and run into the nearest bathroom. "No."

"That's fine." When he touched my hair and ran his fingers through it, my back stiffened.

"What are you doing?"

He lifted my hair and I could feel him dividing it into three parts. "Braiding your hair so it stays out of my way."

Flutters swarm my belly. No one had ever braided my hair before, well except for my mother of course, but that didn't count as anything special. Not that this was. I swallowed. I needed to stop doing that. "You know how to braid hair?"

He hummed, weaving. "I have a little sister."

I blinked. "Lily?" I blinked again. "You two were that close?"

"Is it hard to believe?"

"Considering the way she treated you last time, I mean..." I trailed off, allowing him to fill in the pieces.

He chuckled softly. "When Lily was young I used to be her favorite person." He let go of my hair and swept the braid to my right shoulder. I stayed silent, not trying to ruin the moment because Tristan was willingly talking about himself, and that almost never happened. "She dragged me everywhere, forced me to attend her tea parties, and compelled me into braiding her hair, and when I would refuse to do it, she would cry nonstop until I gave in. She was a cheesy girl growing up." He chuckled again. "Too cheesy."

That was... "That's beautiful, I didn't know you had such lovely childhood memories."

He picked up the bottle beside me and popped it open. "There are a lot of things you still don't know about me."

I sighed, relishing in the calming scent of citrus that filled the air. "That's because you prefer to remain closed off and—" I air quoted. "Private."

"I do that for a reason."

"Oh yeah, what reason?"

His warm oily palm came down gently on my shoulders and he slid it across, coating my skin with oil, all the way from the arch of my shoulders up to my nape. "I have trusted the wrong people and paid dearly for it."

"Trust me, I know the feeling. We've all been there one way or the other but it's not worth shutting yourself off over. You can't let your past keep you from exploring your future." I learned that from my mother.

"You do have a point." He acknowledged, his hands sliding down my back, squeezing, kneading. "Do you want to know more about me?"

Was that a trick question? I cleared my throat. "Sure."

"I had a dog once."

A dog? I craned my neck to look at him. "You had a dog?"

His lips pulled into a knowing smile. "Why do you look surprised?"

Past my shock, I said. "Because you don't strike me as a dog lover." He didn't strike me as a lover at all.

"Well, I did have a dog. William was his name."

"What breed? Is it those big scary ones?"

He released a silent scoff as he dug the heels of his palm into my tight muscles. "And why would I own a big scary dog?"

I shrugged. "Well because I heard most guys usually go with dogs that represent their identity, so I'm guessing a cane corso or a pit bull? Maybe a great Dane?"

He shook his head. "Contrary to what you might think, Willy wasn't a scary dog. He was a samoyed and he was a gift from my grandfather for my sixth birthday."

"Oh." I turned back to look at the television screen. That made more sense.

"Yes, Sienna, I'm not as bad as you might think."

I rolled my eyes. "Whatever."

His chest shook with silent laughter as he massaged the base of my neck, curving right down into my left shoulder. I groaned when he hit a particularly sore spot.

He retracted his hand almost immediately. "Are you okay? Am I hurting you?"

"No, you just..." I drew in a deep breath and let out a soft sigh of contentment as the pain dulled away. "Hit the right spot."

He released a breath behind me as well and the familiar squelch of liquid filled the room, only this time, he poured the oil directly on my skin. I quivered in response. The sensation was unfamiliar, it was titillating. The cold thick liquid oozed slowly down my back, leaving a tingling trail.

Tristan swirled his hand over it, smearing the oil over my skin. "I also like to paint." He muttered, cutting through the silence that descended between us.

"Easy to figure, your painting room is literally down the hall. Why do you like it though?"

He was silent, rotating the heels of his palm in circular motions down my back. My eyes close a little in drowsiness. This was really good. Why did I ever not get one? "Painting calms me." He started. "It's elevating you know, satiating. My painting room used to be my safe place. It was the only source of beauty in a world full of darkness."

I hummed. "It's weird tho, I hardly see you go in there."

"Yes." He mumbled, sliding one hand down my back and around my waist. "You are right." He pulled me closer so that I was trapped between his spread thighs, and flush against his chest, and the feel of his bulge growing thicker behind me sent my body into overdrive. "I rarely go there anymore because I have found a new safe place."

I closed my eyes and took a breath, trying to focus only on his hands and not my raging libido. "And what's that?"

His head tilted forward, his lips teased my lobe. "You..."

His whispered words washed over me and every muscle inside me clenched tight at the realization.

"Even if you drive me crazy most of the time," he continued, his hand gliding down my body in a none massaging way. "I feel most at peace with you. And when I'm inside you, Christ." He inhaled deeply and made a low sound of pleasure in his throat when he exhaled. "It's heaven."

My face flushed hot as all the blood rushed to it. "You just don't give up, do you?"

He chuckled, wrapping both hands around my stomach. How did we get here? "My wife is so tempting, isn't she?"

A spark of pleasure swirled in my gut. "I am not your wife." I retorted, clenching my thighs.

"Of course you are, Princess." His lips ghosted over the back of my neck.

"Tristan..." I struggled to get out, my breaths coming out in quick pants. The sexual charge between us was back and a million jolts higher.

"I was told to respect your boundaries." He whispered into my skin, his voice guttural with desire. "And I've tried to..." He kissed my neck. "But ever since I found that toy in your drawer I've been burning hot..." He sucked on my skin, nipping me with his teeth. I shuddered. Oh, God. "Just like the first time I watched you touch yourself in the bathroom."

My body grew hotter. "You watched me..."

"Mmm..." He released his tight hold on me and dipped a hand down further. "I remember it like it was yesterday. You, naked, pushing your fingers in and out of your pussy as you let the water pressure from the shower head work your clit."

I parted my lips, chest heaving frantically. I should be furious, I should be annoyed that he would invade my privacy like that and watch me in my most intimate moments but I wasn't, instead my clit pulsed as the visual image of him watching me from behind the door morphed in my mind. God, I was so screwed.

"It was me you imagined, wasn't it?" He droned, his fingers moving down slowly, pushing me, teasing. "I was the one who filled your head, who made you hot and needy, you came with my name in your lips didn't you?"

My teeth sunk sharply into my bottom lip as I tried with all my might to stifle a moan. What was he doing? Why wasn't I stopping him? My breath came faster and faster."I... I—"

"Open your legs for me, Sienna." He demanded, his fingers playing at the band of my panties, just above my curls. I shook my head. I didn't want this. I didn't want this. I didn't... Oh, God. Who the hell was I kidding? I wanted this, I wanted him so bad, I was weak for him, I burned for him and it scared me to freaking death but that was what I wanted.

"I'll stop if you want me to," he pressed on, cupping the underside of my breast with his free hand, and when he squeezed, a tiny whimper broke loose.

How was I supposed to survive this?

"Open your legs, princess." He pinched my nipple. "Show it to me."

God help me, without thinking further, I parted my legs, revealing my sweaty inner thighs and damp panties.

"Fuck." He shuddered behind me, kneading my breast. "It's been too long Sienna, your pussy is so wet for me, isn't it?"

I swallowed, bobbing my head slowly. It was. The throb between my legs was intense and I was wet, nearly dripping. This was what happened when you were sexually frustrated.

"Fuck." His breathing was ragged. "Touch it."

My eyes went wide. He wanted me to...Before I could digest his words, he grabbed my hand and pushed it through the band of my panties. I gasped at the contact.

"Touch yourself for me." He grunted, his hand holding mine firmly. "Play with your pussy until you come," he nudged my hand forward, forcing it against my clit. Holy fuck, my hips jerked forward into my own touch.

"Go ahead princess, touch yourself." He moved both our hands, and with every stroke of my own finger against my throbbing ball of nerves, I lost a little of myself.

"So...fucking...wet." He pulled my hand out from my panties and wrapped his lips around my finger, and if my throat wasn't so clogged up, I would've screamed in arousal and embarrassment.

"You're as sweet as I remember." He groaned, sucking my finger into his mouth and licking off my arousal before letting go with a greedy pop and shoving it back down my panties.

I rolled my eyes shut at the warm slippery feeling. Damn him. Dismissing the consequences, I pushed a finger into my heat and shuddered at the intrusion.

"That's it..." His hand abandoned mine and he grabbed both my breasts. My body arched forward and my head lolled back. "You are so beautiful, Sienna." He squeezed my nipples harder, sounding pleased. "So beautiful..."

I couldn't believe he was making me do this. Even if it was my hand in my pussy, he was still in charge and he was using me just how he wanted, and I... I was practically fingering myself for him, rocking back and forth against my own hand as he tortured my nipples, pushing me nearer and nearer to the cliff.

"You like this baby?" He breathed, squeezing my hard nubs.

I turned my face to him, staring into those hooded eyes.

"Being spread out for me, letting me play with your tits while you touch your soaking pussy? You like it?"

"Yes." I moaned, dipping a second finger. He had no idea how much I missed his dirty talk, how much I craved his filthy promises.

"Tell me how it feels."

I moved my hips harder against my hand. "So...good."

His cock jerked behind me. "Naughty girl." He leaned forward and dragged my bottom lip between his teeth. "You want to come don't you?"

My chest grew tight, my pussy tighter. I turned back and closed my eyes, fingering myself harder, primed to explode. "Oh God, yes...touch me please." I was fucking myself faster now, arching against the pleasurable sensation of my fingers. It wasn't enough. "Touch me..."

"Where?"

"Here..."

"Be more specific, princess."

My left hand dug into his thighs. My mind was too full to think, my head too wild and lost to access the consequences of the words that were about to fall out of my mouth. "My pussy, damnit, touch my pussy please, do something."

His hands and mouth all of a sudden left me, allowing this cold sensation to overwhelm me. My senses returned and I opened my eyes, but before I could get a word of protest out, I felt my legs being pulled further apart as my husband settled between them and shoved my panties aside, revealing my swollen flesh.

My eyes widened. "What are you doing?!"

"Licking my wife's pussy." His mouth descended on me.

Jesus.

My breathing seized and my eyes closed tight as a familiar myriad of sensations exploded inside me.

Holy...

I squirmed on the bed, tossing my head from side to side as he ran his tongue around my folds, up and down, circling my clit, dissolving me into a pool of euphoria. Jesus Christ. It felt like I would die, like I would evaporate, like I would erupt and burst into flames. I couldn't think, could barely breathe, I only felt him everywhere, his presence, his aura, his tongue, his hands—"Fuck." He groaned, pushing a leg up over his shoulder.

Stars flashed before my eyes, and I slapped a hand over my mouth to hold in my raging cries. Yes, oh fuck, yes. I grabbed his hair greedily and held him in place as I shamelessly ground my pussy into his tongue, undulating on his face. Don't stop...fuck, don't stop. My body tightened and I bucked off the bed as an orgasm so fierce erupted and poured out of me like water through a broken dam.

Tristan moaned, placing his hand on my stomach and holding my convulsing body down as he relentlessly lapped away my leaking release with deep brutal flicks. The feeling—tears pricked my eyes— it was intense, too much and yet not enough. My head reeled, I loved it, I hated it. I loved him. I hated him.

A minute or two later, the ripples of my orgasm faded and clarity returned to my brain along with the realization that my walls had shattered completely to pieces.

I fell flat unto the bed and opened my eyes, staring down at the man still kneeling in front of me, eyes lidded with desire, lips glistening. Damn him fucking twice. I pushed myself up on my elbows. "This means nothing," I seethed. "I still hate you."

He got up and climbed the bed, crawling to me until he was hovering over me. "No you don't, and we both know it." He reached over, stroking my cheek with the back of his knuckles. "Your heart beats for me, you may hate yourself for it, but you can't change it, the same way I can not change this." He captured one of my hands and placed it against his chest and my mouth opened with a gasp at the rapid vibrations of his raging heartbeat.

"I might not be the best when it comes to courting a woman but I believe in my truth, and this is my truth." He squeezed my hand softly. "My heart beats for you, Sienna."

I opened my mouth, staring at my hand on his chest. I was speechless, struck dumb by the enormity of his raw honesty. I looked up, and his eyes...they were blazing, molten, warring with something I couldn't understand.

Tension curled in my belly. I swallowed. "Tristan, are you—" He leaned forward and kissed me right then, swallowing my question, my thoughts, he invaded my mouth, giving me his tongue, forcing my taste down my throat.

I didn't understand what was going on. I couldn't comprehend it but my body was raring back to life and my attention-seeking slut for clit was starting to throb again. I shut my eyes once more and wrapped my arms around his neck, welcoming him as he devoured my lips like the hungry lion he was. My lion. My Tristan. I was definitely going crazy.

He lowered himself between my parted legs, giving me a front-row feel of his hot mystical eight-packs and hard cock. God, he was pulsing down there, was this all for me? The seam of his pants grazed my clit. I moaned, moving my hips to match the movements of his scorching lips. Fuck, if he kept this up I was going to need more than his tongue and hands.

"Sienna..." He whispered against my lips. "I..." His words disappeared between our kisses. "I..."

"You what?" I breathed, breaking away to stare at him. "You what, Tristan?"

"Sienna, I..." He started again, staring right at me, his eyes filled with so much emotion it was scary.

"What is it, Tristan?" I urged, trying to understand what he was talking about. I grabbed his face in my hands. "Tell me what is—"

"I love you."