"Fuck," I groaned into the air when he peeled his mouth off me to trail wet kisses across my jawline then neck. "Oh my...." I stuttered out when his tongue moved to lap against my throat before his lips sucked gently on the sensitive skin there. Fucking shit. Fucking shit. Fucking shit. I didn't know what the hell I was doing with my hands at my sides, maybe just opening and closing my fists with each kiss because I was so caught up in him.

Tristan's hands gripped my hips tightly as he pulled me toward him. I wanted to look at the muscles bunching in his forearms, but it was hard enough to remember to breathe when his mouth latched onto various pulse points on my throat. "So good," he mumbled against my skin, so low that I could barely hear him through the rush of blood in my ears.

"Holy..." I whimpered some other unintelligible words as he switched sides to kiss the other side of my neck. His big hands tugged at my waist again, trying to get me over and closer to his lap. I let him roll me so I shifted onto my knees, leaning over him slightly.

One of his hands brushed over my lower back while the other one kept its steady grip on my waist. He was groaning words onto my skin, words I couldn't understand and only partially wanted to. He could've been reciting the alphabet backward for all I knew, or calling me a whore in ten different languages, but when his mouth kept up a trail of open-mouthed kisses across the span of my throat, I heard him groan out my name. My hands had a mind of their own finally and placed themselves on his broad chest for support as he pecked slow kisses on the corners of my mouth like I had done to him just moments before. Warm breath clouded over my flesh as he pulled away with his fingers kneading my hips.

"Jesus," I whimpered when he left wet kisses across my cheeks.

I could hear him chuckle softly, "I know," in the huskiest voice I'd ever heard in my life.

After a moment of trying to catch my breath, I pulled back just a little to look at his face. His eyes were already locked on mine so intensely it felt like he knew the answer to every question in the world. Those long fingered hands slid their way up from my hips, over my ribcage, shoulders, neck, and then face, cupping me gently. That crooked grin spread across his lower face, creating a burst of light that erupted from him. "You are so pretty," he purred, brushing his thumbs over the apple of each of my cheeks.

I didn't want to say 'thank you' because that seemed too forward, so I smiled at him instead while trying to express through my face how much I just enjoyed the mouth-fuck we'd just shared. He beamed at me in return and exhaled loudly all over my face. It didn't escape me that I should have been happy as hell that neither one of us had eaten the Taco Bell beforehand for fear of having terrible breath but seriously. I totally would have done it again even if he suffered from halitosis, the god-awful breath disease.

Long moments passed between me sitting up on my knees while he sat straight up, hunched in my direction before we both relaxed against the back of the sofa, keeping our eyes on each other in silence. I had no idea what I wanted to talk to him about since the only thing I could think of was the fact that I had goosebumps all over me. My stomach was in knots — with my luck a gordian knot — trying to accept and come to terms with the last few minutes. It almost didn't feel real. Someone somewhere decided a long time ago that Kat Berger didn't have luck like that, and I'd come to terms with it. The thing was, that this — Tristan and I — felt so real, there was no way it wasn't. The shock that coursed through my veins every time he touched me with his hands or mouth wasn't natural.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you before," his rough voice murmured over the silence of the apartment. He had his head resting on the back of the couch while keeping his eyes on me, fingertips grazing mine. "I didn't know how to."