He exited the shower first, letting her have more than one drool-worthy view of his tight ass and muscled back as he retrieved two thick, fluffy bath towels from the towel rack. He wrapped one around his waist, leaving his happy trail of dark hair exposed. Kat sighed. She was really sleeping with this man.
It was too good to be true, but what fun was there in denying a dream? Sure, it would be safer for her heart to bury what she was feeling and keep her distance. But being with him, as a lover, as a friend … It was no longer something she could pretend she didn't need.
Tristan wound the second towel around her, his expression so serious that the happy little smile on her own lips slipped.
Kat clasped the towel tightly. "What's the matter?" she asked, watching him, her stomach knotting inside.
"You cannot do that to me ever again, Kat. Promise me. You're the only thing in my life worth fighting for, and I cannot lose you."
The confession was a desperate plea, and the look in his eyes … Oh, her sweet Tristan. It undid her to see him so hurt all because of her. She couldn't keep hold of her own feelings, not when he was willing to open himself up to her.
"I promise. I need you too, so much." Her heart raced.
She had to have Tristan in her life. She hadn't made it six days without him before she'd caved and begged him to come back.
Tristan gripped her shoulders. "Promise you'll never push me away again. I need to hear you say it." His eyes were like a midnight sea, dark and fathomless.
She swallowed the emotions that threatened to choke her. "I promise." Kat meant it. Whatever would happen between them now, it wouldn't end by her pushing him away.
Tristan dragged her into his arms, the tight embrace making her feel whole.
"Are you ready to go to bed?" he asked.
"Yes. Take me to bed." She kissed his bare shoulder.
He chuckled. "We'll use your room. It's easier to explain if I'm missing from my bed, but not you from yours."
"Okay." She followed him to the bathroom door.
He unlocked it, opened it a crack, and stuck his head out a few inches.
"We're clear." Tristan grasped her hand, and they dashed down the hall to her room. He tugged her inside, eased the door shut, and clicked the lock into place. Then he smiled at her. "Now, let's get you into bed." He lunged and, before she could react, pulled at the hem of her towel. She spun, trying to evade his hold, but it only ripped the towel clear off her body.
Kat shrieked, then slapped a hand over her mouth. The last thing she wanted was to wake their parents. Ducking behind the bed, she tried to hide her naked body.
"Come here, Kitty Kat," Tristan teased, stalking toward her, his hands raised, fingers slightly curled in mock claws.
A laugh escaped her. She loved how playful he could be, how it made her feel wild and free. But she didn't want him to catch her just yet. Turning around, she planned to make him chase her, but she stumbled, hit the bed, and fell flat on her back.
Tristan pounced, crawling up her body, but then he rolled them so she lay on top, his own towel falling away, leaving them damp and skin-to-skin.
"Ride me, nice and slow," he whispered, gripping her hips gently.
Nerves released butterflies in her belly. "How do I … " Heat rushed to her face, and she hoped he wouldn't notice her embarrassment.
He moved one hand between their bodies. "Raise your hips."
She did as he said, and then she felt him position himself at her core. He kept one hand on his shaft, easing her down on top. A groan escaped her lips as he filled her completely.
"Oh, God, you're too big," she panted, straining to accommodate him.
Tristan chuckled. "I've fit before, darling. It's just a new position, that's all. Take it as slow as you need to." He smoothed his fingers along her hips, the loving touch melting her inside and relaxing her.
How could he be so sweet? This wicked god in the sack was such a walking contradiction that she couldn't help but be endlessly fascinated with him.
When she was fully seated, he shifted his own body up so he was sitting on the edge of the bed, with her straddling him, impaled on his cock. He banded his arms around her back, holding her chest-to-chest. It was the perfect position for them to kiss. She leaned into him, curling her arms around his neck and bringing her mouth to his. He sighed, the sound full of masculine satisfaction, before he used his tongue to part her lips.
The fire that sparked between them reminded Kat of when he'd entered the pub the night they'd first met. They'd stood so close at the bar, sharing secrets and smiles. Everything inside her had reached out to connect to him. Just like that night, there were electric currents and tingles of invisible fire surrounding them.
Their tongues continued to dance, twirl, flick, in slow, sensual movements, creating a new hungry heat coiling deep in her belly. Soon Kat didn't mind how tight he felt inside her. The more relaxed she became, the more aroused she became. She began to rock her hips, desperate to feel the friction of him moving within her.
"That's it," he murmured between kisses, his encouragement making her feel bold enough to ride him harder. A new pulsing began in her womb, and Tristan responded by fisting one hand in her hair, lightly holding her head steady so he could kiss her deeply while fucking her.
"Does this have to end?" she asked him, riding higher and higher on a building wave of arousal and passion.
Tristan kissed her again, a lingering melting of lips until they were so connected that she couldn't remember ever being apart from him. Her chest ached as it swelled with love. That emotion she'd so feared at the beginning she now embraced, in all its madness and folly.
I love Tristan Kingsley. Come what may, I do.
"If you stay here with me," Tristan whispered, "I can make it last forever. But you have to stay."
Could he do as he promised? Make every second a breath of magic, a whisper of an endless thrill? She gazed into his eyes, letting the blue-green shade engulf her. If anyone could make a fairy tale come true, it would be Tristan.
"I'll stay," she promised and raised her hips again, bracing her hands on his shoulders, digging her nails into his skin as she rode him faster.
He moaned her name and that tore her apart. They climaxed together, kissing, both their mouths trembling as they shook and struggled for breath. Kat clung to him, burying her face in his neck as her body relaxed. She was too exhausted to stay awake much longer.
"Sleep," he urged.
She mumbled something as he helped her under the covers. The moment her head hit the pillow she was lost in dreams of falling snow, glistening red apples, and the sweet taste of Tristan's kiss.
* * *
Tristan dozed in the early morning hours, playing with a lock of Kat's hair. Suddenly, her cell phone buzzed on the nightstand. He wouldn't have touched it, but it kept buzzing, and he didn't want her to wake up. Reaching over, he grabbed her phone. The screen was lit with a text message from her friend Lacy.
"OMFG, Kat, turn on the TV right now. You're on the news."
Tristan frowned, set the phone down, and reached for the remote. He clicked on the flat-screen, which sat on a stand opposite Kat's bed, and hit the mute button. He scanned the various channels and then bit off a vicious curse.
Jillian, the photographer, was standing in front of Harrods. Behind her was a three-story- tall hanging poster of him and Kat, their lips locked in a kiss, snow falling around them as she awakened in her glass coffin.
Glittering spots covered part of the photo, an effect Jillian had likely edited in, along with an elegant font that read, SOME LOVES LAST FOREVER, beneath the haunting, fairy-tale scene. Tristan hit the closed-captioned button so he could read what they were saying.
A beautiful blonde news anchor from the Daily Mail was standing next to Jillian. "Your photo was chosen as the fairy-tale campaign winner, and all of the money will be sent to charity, correct?"
Jillian grinned. "Yes. It's a wonderful project."
"This photo and others from the scenes will be part of a Harrods ad campaign all over London. How does it feel to have your work so prominently displayed?" The anchor smiled at Jillian.
Tristan was barely listening. All he kept hearing were the words "all over London."
"The subjects of your series have also garnered some public interest. The prince in your photo appears to be none other than Tristan Kingsley, the son of the Earl of Pembroke. He has quite a reputation as a playboy, so it's interesting to see him portrayed like this. Who is the woman he's kissing?"