Chapter 11 A start in intimacy
Celine’s POV
“Are you okay?” Tristan asked, that wild smirk still on his face.
His eyes never left me as his hand lingered on my thighs, teasing the spot just above my panties. I felt my wetness press against the thin fabric, and yet, I didn’t pull away. My fingers dug into the bedsheet, fighting the moan clawing its way up my throat.
That didn’t mean I wanted him to stop.
“Are you?” His face turned serious, dismissing the smirk.
I nodded, but his serious look was starting to make sweat pop out from my sweat glands. It increased the wetness between my legs.
“Our consummation,” he said. “We should have our consummation as mates… if you're okay with it.”
My mouth felt dry, but not out of thirst. It might have been the best time for me to say no to this moment between us, the time I refused to let sudden lust and attraction lead me.
Yet, I stayed mute.
Was it still about his scent?
“I know you are, right?” His face was closer to mine. “I know you're ready for this.”
“This… this consummation is done between werewolves…”
“Yes.”
“But I'm human.”
He made me stand on my feet. “And I know your undies are already wet.” He wrapped his hands around my waist. “The scent of pineapples is strong down there.”
He stepped back, letting me breathe without the weight of his touch. Or maybe it only added to the tension, thickening the air between us.
“This isn’t just about pleasure,” he said, hands by his sides, voice low. “It’s about something more—our bond, the connection we share.”
He sat on the bed, just looking at me. He was too patient to not touch me in order to speed up the process of this consummation he was talking about. I noticed he didn't seem moved even after claiming it was something important.
“Does this have to be a sex-like connection?”
“Yeah.” He took off his shirt.
“You didn't tell me of the dream you had… You said it concerned me.”
He stood up again. “Don't do this.”
“Why?” I frowned, raising my eyebrows. “If this dream you had about me is true, why not tell me? Or is it just a normal dream?”
“No.” He shook his head, his face showing a complex expression I couldn't define, maybe seriousness. “Even though I'm cursed, I'm not just an ordinary Alpha… All my dreams are true.”
“Then tell me.”
“I’m not doing that. Because I figured now isn't the right time.”
He drew me closer to himself, and this time, I was sure he wouldn't release me, except when his body had a release. Ahh… the thought of that made me drip more, my juices escaping the confines of my undies to touch my thighs.
“My time is almost up,” he said so close to my ears that his breath brushed my neck.
“Your time… hmm…”
“You know, becoming feral.”
“Oh… hmm…”
His fingers started with my shoulders, sliding down the narrow of my back, down till they were almost touching my butt. Then he walked upward to touch the sip of my gown. He slipped it down, but didn’t start taking the gown off me.
I’d reached the point of no return.
“Celine,” he called me. “I need to make the best of this moment.”
He went to the wardrobe inside the room, opened it, and brought out a small jar. If I was right about what was inside, it was oil. He was going to use this oil on my body.
I wondered if he also used it on Zara, his supposed lover before he called me his mate.
Why did I even care about that?
He poured the oil on my hair while my gown was still on but zip loosened.
“It’s meant to spice up this moment,” he winked at me. “And remember.” His lips came close to my hair, and I kept my neck in a slanted position. “Leave all your doubts, problems, and worries aside.”
I just kept nodding.
The oil dripped from my hair to my shoulders, to my boobs, flowed down to reach my undies, and touched my pussy lips.
“Hmm… Yes.” It was hard to conceal my moan.
Then his hands resumed work. He groped my boobs, kneading them like he was mixing a dough meant for bread, but also making sure his thumbs rested on my nipples.
He went on to pull off my gown, exposing my skin glistening from the oil he’d poured on me. He let the gown fall to the floor, and urged me to walk out of it. The last piece of clothing left on me was my undies.
His bare chest pressed against my boobs, and I wrapped my hands around his shoulders, cherishing every bit of this moment.
As for my undies, he didn’t rush to pull it off.
The index finger of his right hand found its way to it.
“Tristan… Tristan… hmm…” My moan was loud.
I no longer cared to suppress it.
“It's about the connection,” he said, fingers circling around my clit and touching my pussy lips. “The consummation.”
“Yes, I know… Don’t!” I didn’t know if my fingers were digging into his skin. “Don’t stop!”
He let go of me, yet again, leaving my already weak legs to shake. Oh… He shouldn't have paused… not even for a second.
I watched him take off his trousers and every piece of clothing on him, letting his hard rod point at me.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
“Yes… Yes, please…”
He made me lie on the bed as he slowly crawled over me.
Then… a loud knock on the door shattered the moment, yanking my attention from him.
Who could it be?