Drawn to You: Volume 1 – Prologue
Coming January 10, 2015
PROLOGUE
- Three years ago -
It’s a needy moan that startles me awake. The soft sound of her voice vibrates through the air ventilation and into my room. My eyes flicker open and I stare into the darkness of my bedroom. It’s happening again. He’s down there with another one. I hold my breath as I strain to hear their voices. My heart races as their passionate cries fill me with a lustful warmth, and I flush at the wicked thoughts that flood my mind. Thoughts of him touching me. Thoughts of him spreading me open and taking me from behind. Thoughts of me being the naked woman entangled in his sheets.
A gasping voice calls out his name. Tristan! I hear his deep, throaty roar and the sound of her moan desperate for release. This isn’t the first time I’ve heard him take a woman down to his room. There have been many nights that I’ve lain here, wondering what it must be like to be on the other side of that vent. I shouldn’t be having sexual fantasies about Tristan. He’s not my older brother by blood, but he was adopted into our family two years ago.
I turn over, trying my best to go back to sleep, but their voices draw me in, and before I realize it, I’m panting with them. I grow wet at the touch of my nail gliding across my clit. If he only knew how many times I’ve climaxed to the sound of him fucking. I close my eyes and imagine his hands inside me, pressing up against me and rubbing me at a slow, torturous pace. I arch at the warm sensation that starts at my center and builds its way up. My nipples harden as I roll one of them through my fingers.
I’m so close. After several minutes pass, my hand grows tired. Frustration consumes me as the image of Tristan touching me dissipates. I lie there annoyed at the lack of release in my life. Most of my high school friends lost their virginity long ago, but I’m still stuck with mine. My best friend has reassured me that there’s no need to rush into anything, but when everyone around you is doing it, it makes me wonder if she’s just saying it because she feels bad.
After several minutes of tossing and turning, and doing my best to drown out the sound with my pillow, I muster the courage to get out of bed and walk down the long set of stairs to Tristan’s bedroom. I’ve always wondered why he chose to take one of the bedrooms downstairs. They’re usually reserved for guests. From the bottom step, I spot a cascade of light seeping in from his bedroom door.
The scene before me sends a rush of heat straight to my center. I clench in arousal at the sight of Tristan’s long, muscular frame kneeling between two lovely legs adorned around his shoulders. I’ve never seen anything like it. I can’t see her face but I hear the way her voice grows tight with each lick. Her body trembles as he kneels back and inserts two long fingers inside of her. I can feel myself dripping at the sound of his digits sliding in and out of her quickly.
I’m so lost in the haze of it all that I don’t realize I’ve moaned out loud. Tristan stops and turns on his knee. His hazel eyes grow wide at the sight of me standing there watching the intimate session between two lovers. His lips part as if he’s about to speak, but he says nothing. Embarrassed at being caught, I turn and flee from his watchful eyes. They burn into my mind, threatening to unravel me.
I’m halfway up the stairs when I feel someone grab at my heel. I turn and nearly tumble down, but warm hands are there to catch me. Despite the overwhelming darkness of the house, I know it’s Tristan. His fingers are slightly calloused from the constant pressure of the drawing pencil in his hand. I’d recognize those hands anywhere. His body hovers slightly over mine as he stares down at me. I can feel the cold steps of the stairs digging into my back.
For a moment, the only sound I hear is the ragged breath that flows in and out of his shallow gulps. My breath hitches as I watch the reflection of the moonlight catch his face. His hair is ruffled into a mess and there’s a strong shadow of facial hair spread across his jaw and cheekbones and around his lips. I subconsciously reach out and touch his face. His skin burns beneath my fingers. If it wasn’t for what I just saw, I would be worried that he’s getting sick.
Although the darkness of the house cloaks his frame, I know he’s fully nude. In his haste to catch me, he must’ve forgot to cover up. It isn’t until I feel his erection pressing against my stomach that I catch a strange shift in the air between us. Without a word, Tristan positions himself between my legs. The world slows to a halt as his hand glides up my nightie. His warm fingers slide across me, leaving a trail of heat behind them. I tremble at the sensation. It’s like nothing I’ve ever imagined. It’s better. I feel him watching me as he pushes up the soft fabric of my nightgown and positions himself at the opening of my center. I writhe against him as he rubs his cock at my opening.
I moan, and in one quick movement his fingers wrap around the front of my mouth. He stops for a moment, listening for the slightest movement upstairs. My frantic thoughts return to the memory of the woman whose legs were wrapped around his shoulders only moments earlier. Where is she?
Tristan loosens his hold on my mouth and leans in, letting out a harsh whisper against my ear. “You’re so fucking wet.”
It’s the first and only words out of his mouth before I feel him thrust inside me. A sharp pressure hits me and I immediately push back against him. This is what my friend Ceci had warned me about. Tristan slows to a stop as he sees discomfort etched across my face. I flush as concern and then disbelief fills his.
“Fuck,” he says, gritting his teeth. Without another word, Tristan pulls out, leaving me shivering against the stairs. The sudden shift in temperature from his warm body leaves me aching for him to envelop me once again.
“Em, I didn’t know…”
His words crash over me and I’m left with a devastating feeling of regret. In one thoughtless decision, we’ve changed everything between us.
