But then Tristan entered my pussy with a huge thrust that nearly knocked me flat. He held fast to my hips and pumped himself into me with urgent, selfish strokes. It was as if he couldn't hold himself back. I didn't want him to. I wanted him to take me with the brutal force of his most primal need. His desire fed and sustained me. With each thrust, I could feel him bump against the mouth of my womb. He could go no deeper.
He slowed for a moment and his rhythm grew gentle and sensuous. I felt a finger tracing around my sphincter, trailing down to borrow some of the wetness from my dripping sex. Then I felt him stretch that tight muscle until it yielded. Once his finger was inside my ass, his pace quickened again and my body matched his.
It felt wicked and forbidden to have him inside me in two places at once. The sensation of having my ass penetrated for the first time was a completely unexpected thrill. It was a unique intimacy. It made me happier than I could have imagined to be taken in such a way by Tristan--only by Tristan.
"Rub you clit," he ordered. His smooth silky voice had a husky edge I'd never heard before. "I want you to come with me. Oh god…soon."
His words, the sounds of his flesh smacking against mine and the slurp of wet pussy against rock-hard cock made the music of desire fill the room. I pushed myself to orgasm with fast, hard strokes that blended with his urgent thumping into my body.
I heard the noises of his crescendo and felt myself reach the peak. He twitched inside me, pouring his spunk into me with great grunting explosions as my muscles massaged him from within. I could feel my ass contracting around his finger and I knew he could feel it too. I matched each spasm with a cry of pure, unbound pleasure until, spent, he collapsed against my back and I flattened against the rumpled bed.
His weight felt glorious against me. I had the whole man on me and in me. I was complete and completely his. Tristan kept murmuring my name over and over as he gulped deep breaths of contented release against my hair.
When he finally rolled away from me, I mewed a small protest. I hated for it to end.
He patted my ass gently. "You are amazing. The most responsive, giving lover anyone could ask for. God, Raina. Perfect."
I propped myself up on my elbows and leaned over his face to kiss him. "And you, my unbearably sexy Tristan, bring out the best in me."
Eleven
Tristan slipped away after I had fallen asleep in his arms, as I thought he would. Even though my mother clearly knew we were more than friends and certainly didn't imagine I was some blushing virgin, it was still bad form for us to greet her in hotel bathrobes over coffee in the morning. I felt him kiss my cheek and heard him dressing, but it seemed appropriate to pretend I didn't and let him make a graceful exit.
Mom and I were getting into the hotel thing. We ordered a room service breakfast. I had eggs Benedict with smoked salmon and Mom had hers with a crab cake. It seemed a shame to go to the dining room when we had our own private one right there in the suite.
Tristan arrived around ten and sent Mom in the car with Kwan to visit my father. We'd talked to him first thing in the morning and he was itching to get discharged as soon as possible.
As soon as she was gone, Tristan sat me down and told me what he had discovered about the attackers.
"They aren't local construction union guys. They're attached to a very secretive chapter that has ties to the mafia. They've been causing trouble everywhere they find a guy like your dad who's willing to question a forty dollar rivet or a ten dollar roofing nail."
"I wish Daddy would just stay out of it. He's got about ten years left to work…why can't he let someone else fight these battles?"
"What's done is done. Your father has earned himself a reputation as a white knight and he's got enemies both in the union ranks and in City Hall. Someone has chosen to make an example of him. Next time it might be far worse than a couple of broken ribs."
"So what do we do now?"
"I'd like to suggest that your parents get out of town. Your father's injuries are serious enough to prevent him from working for several weeks--more with the right doctor's signature."
"He'll be fighting to get back to work as soon as he can. I know my father."
"Maybe so, but when I finish telling him the whole story, I think he'll come around." Tristan paced in front of the window and a terrific view of Central Park. "He's not going to want to put Marjorie in danger and I'm pretty sure I can convince him that these hoodlums aren't above targeting your mother--or you for that matter."
"Me?"
"Not to worry little one. I'm going to keep you close to me. We'll be safe enough back in the Berkshire Hills."
By the end of the day, Tristan had not only convinced my father of the seriousness of his situation, but persuaded my parents to spend some time at his 'cabin' in Maine near Bar Harbor. He assured them they would be comfortable, safe and well out of harm's way there. Kwan was to accompany them and get them settled in. Before the sun set, Mom and Dad were on their way north and Tristan and I were getting on a helicopter that was Berkshire bound.
I wanted to stay another night in New York, enjoying a perspective on the city I grew up in that I had never seen before. But Tristan felt responsible to the play. He told me we had both made a commitment to it and that there'd be plenty of time for fun in the city later. Of course that pleased me immensely. I wanted--I craved--any indication from him that he and I were an 'us' and had a future, however vague and full of unanswered questions that future might be.
I knew things were moving fast, at least in a physical sense, but I still didn't know Tristan nearly as well as I wanted to in so many other ways. His talent amazed me, his power seduced me and his take-charge manner made me feel safe and secure. But there were his flashes of temper, the limitations he imposed on what we could discuss and the mystery of his past--both recent and distant--that frustrated me. I wondered if I was kidding myself. I questioned whether all the solicitude, the lavish way he spent money on me and on my parents and the mind-blowing sex was carefully engineered to provide an illusion of closeness where there was none.
Pushing him was going to get me nowhere, of that much I was certain. But at some point, there had to be a quiet moment unhindered by crisis or seduction when I'd be able to really know him better. He couldn't keep himself locked up forever. Could he?
***
Tom was grateful for the effort we made to get back into the rehearsals given what I'd told him about my father's injuries and the scare we'd had. Rehearsal that night was spotty, and it was pretty obvious that both Tristan and I were exhausted. By the time we wrapped up, I was ready for only one thing--a hot bath and bed. I was feeling achy all over, like I was coming down with something.