The Memory Puller (The Memory Puller Series Book 1)
The Memory Puller: Chapter 35

Cassandra squeezed her eyes tight. She didn’t want to read Tristan’s face, couldn’t bear to witness his rejection. They’d crossed a line last night, but maybe he’d meant what he’d said—that the act was intended to lure Opheron and nothing more.

Tristan was nerve-wrackingly still despite his accelerating breaths and rustling wings.

Then, so fast she barely felt him move, his hands tangled in her hair, and he kissed her. Insistent. Claiming. Devouring her words to prove how much he wanted her.

Cassandra’s eyes popped open to replace that Tristan’s were too. He smiled against her lips and turned her in his lap to face him. She hiked up the skirt of her dress robes, draping her bare legs around him as their most sensitive body parts came into dangerous contact.

“Cassandra,” he whispered, as if her name were the fulfillment of a long-forgotten wish. He tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear, then dragged his thumb across her bottom lip, fixing her with a gaze that turned her insides to pulsing, liquid fire. “I’ll give you whatever you want.”

A subtle thrust of his hips and the thickening hardness there revealed the truth of his answer.

“That’s a reckless offer,” she chuckled. “Aren’t you afraid I’ll take advantage of your kindness?”

“I can think of no place I’d rather be than at your mercy, Daredevil.”

She leaned in to brush her lips against his, softly and sweetly. He wrapped his arms around her, one hand resting on the small of her back, the other cupping her neck.

“I have a few minutes until my first supplicant shows up,” she said against his mouth.

“Mmm?” He sucked her bottom lip between his teeth, pressing down lightly with his canines. A heaviness settled into her breasts, between her thighs. They wouldn’t be getting much attention though. She had other plans for him. “What kind of lesson do you want today?”

She pulled away and curled her lip. “Gross. Don’t call it a lesson. I don’t want to think of you as my teacher.” She shuddered. “That is not the kind of sexy power dynamic I’m into.”

“What is the kind of sexy power dynamic you’re into, I wonder?”

“You’ll be the first to know when I figure it out.”

He tilted his head back and laughed. “So if we’re not teacher and student, and we’re something more than friends, what are we?”

“Playmates?” she suggested.

“Someone was very against being called a playmate last weekend.”

“Plaything,” she reminded him. “Big difference.”

He nipped at her breast through her dress robes, making her gasp. She ran her fingers into his dark, silken knot of hair. “I have no issues being your plaything, Cass. But playmates works too.” He kissed the soft skin under her ear as he teased his fingers along her bare thighs. “What do you want this morning, playmate?”

She stared into his warm, honey-brown eyes. “I want to do to you what you did to me. I want to…make you come.”

Tristan’s cock twitched against her, and his throat bobbed as a worshipful look graced his features. He dipped his forehead against hers. “Letha help me, I don’t deserve you.”

“Don’t say that yet,” she said with a nervous giggle. “I’ve never done it before. I might be terrible at it.”

“Not possible. Your hand coming anywhere near my cock will be the greatest thrill I’ve had in months.”

“Pathetic,” she teased, and he flicked her nose before squeezing her close and kissing her soundly. She opened for him, raking her teeth along his tongue as he pushed it in and out of her mouth. The wind on his breath tasted cold, ancient, powerful. And she desired nothing more than to be utterly swept away.

As Tristan continued to explore her mouth, Cassandra lowered her hands to his waistband, scooting her hips back to give herself better access. She unhooked the button and peeled down the zipper, surprised to replace flesh, not fabric, awaiting her.

He hissed through his teeth at the contact, then chuckled. “I’ve never understood the point of underwear.”

Her answering laugh was cut short as she pulled him free of his pants, and her breath caught in her throat.

She’d had hints of how well-endowed he was—the sheer enormity of his body for one, not to mention the feel of him pressing against her during their previous two trysts.

But nothing could prepare her for the size of his cock, the colossal majesty of it. She could barely wrap her fingers around the base.

She squeezed her thighs together as her mind flooded with visions of him pushing into her, filling her, stretching her to her limit.

He began unfastening the mother-of-pearl buttons on her dress.

“What are you doing?” she protested. “This is supposed to be about you.” She gripped his cock tighter to emphasize her point.

“This is about me. Let me touch you,” he begged. “Please.”

“Since you asked so nicely…” she said, moving her hand up and down his shaft. She’d never felt anything like it. Though he was rock-hard, the skin underneath her fingertips was sumptuously soft.

He released the final button and plunged his hand into her bra, palming her breast. The drag of his calluses against her sensitive nipple made her moan, and his cock pulsed in her hand. He pressed his forehead against hers.

“Show me how you like it, Tristan,” she breathed onto his lips.

He brought her hand to his mouth and licked her palm and fingers with his soft, wet tongue. Then he wrapped her hand around his cock, layering his own on top.

He stroked up and down slowly, starting at the base and squeezing tight as he passed over the smooth skin at the tip. She could feel him hardening in her hand, the head growing more engorged with each pass.

She peeled his fingers away. “Let me,” she said. She wanted to finish him herself.

He groaned and buried his face into her neck, his uneven breathing stirring the loose strands of her braid as she stroked him. He massaged her breast with one hand as he fisted the other at her back, pushing into her spine and unraveling at her touch.

She stroked faster, squeezing even tighter, savoring the grunts emanating from the back of his throat. She had never felt so deliciously wanton—giving pleasure was just as arousing as receiving it. She nearly climaxed as his powerful body quivered beneath her.

“Fucking Stygios, Daredevil, I’m about to—”

A growl ripped from his chest, so loud that he clamped his teeth against her shoulder to muffle it. He clutched her breast as he thrust his cock into her hand, his feathers rattling with the force of his climax.

Something slick and slippery trickled down her palm, and she throbbed between her thighs as she realized what it was.

He pulled back, chest heaving, gazing at her like he wanted to eat her alive. Staring into his lust-hazed eyes, she licked his release, warm and slightly salty, from her fingers.

As soon as she lowered her hand, his mouth crashed onto hers, a violent clash of teeth and tongues. Knowing that he could taste himself on her lips had her undulating against his thighs in search of her own release.

A knock sounded against the outer door, and they stilled.

“Sister Fortin? Your first supplicant is ready for you in the waiting room,” a lilting female voice called from the hallway.

“I’ll be right there!” she cried out, her voice shaky and hoarse.

Tristan bit his lip to stifle his laughter. “Not funny!” she whisper-shouted as she rose from his lap, staring at the sticky moisture coating her palm. “What am I going to do about this?”

Her bodice was open, and Tristan’s gaze was glued to her exposed chest. He tucked her breast back into her bra, then unzipped his jacket and cleaned her hand on his cotton shirt. “Sorry about the mess, Cass, but in all fairness, you asked for it.”

She laughed quietly and smacked him on the chest. “I enjoyed that,” she said, curling her fingers around his jacket and pulling him towards her.

“You have no idea how happy that makes me.” He cupped her cheek. “And if you couldn’t tell, you’re not terrible at that.” He pressed a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth. “I wish we had more time. I will make it up to you, playmate.”

Her body throbbed. Because she knew he would.

She reluctantly tore herself from his embrace, refastening the buttons of her dress robes. “You’d better go. Head out through the back, not the waiting room. Fewer prying eyes.”

She walked through her extraction room, pulled open the outer door, and poked her head into the hallway. All clear. She closed it and turned to replace Tristan at her back. “It’s safe. I’ll go out first, okay?”

“So stealthy. You sure you’ve never done this before?” He pressed her against the door and kissed her again, adoring, hands roving. She whimpered as he pulled away. “Meet me at your window after your kitchen duty, and we’ll head to the Serpent’s Den. I’ll tell Mother Superior not to expect us for dinner. We can eat on the way, but I want to get there before the place fills up and we lose our chance to speak with that courtesan.”

She nodded and stepped into the hallway. “See you later, Birdman.”

He blew her a kiss as she shut the door.

And she tried not to float away as she hurried down the hall to retrieve her awaiting supplicant.