Free Her Immortal Love by Diana Castle Page B

neck and held him close. “Then, yes, again.”
    “A woman who knows what she wants and isn’t shy about asking for it.” He smiled warmly down at her. “And that, sweet, is one of the reasons why I prefer women of a certain age.”
    Yes, she could definitely get used to this.

Chapter Six
     
    Lydia slowly opened her eyes. It took her a moment to get her bearings as she had no idea where she was. Then she remembered. Rolling over onto her side, she looked over at Tristan.
    His long, muscular body was sprawled languorously across the rumpled sheets of his bed. He looked so handsome and yet so vulnerable as he slept.
    She yearned to touch him, to stroke his warm, firm flesh, but she did not want to wake him for she knew, her body shivering with delight, that Tristan slept the deep, heavy slumber of a man who had fucked wholeheartedly and had been equally well fucked in return.
    Glancing at the bedroom window, she was surprised to see pale light filtering through the closed blinds. She turned over and looked at the clock on the nightstand.
    The bright red display read 7:35.
    Lydia blinked. 7:35? As in the morning? Had she and Tristan really made love all night?
    Judging by the sweet stinging between her thighs, it appeared they had. Pulling the sheets up to her chin, she smiled. She really had spent all night making love with a sexy, attractive younger man.
    She couldn't wait to tell Saffron.
    She looked back at Tristan. His thick, black hair was a mess because as he had been shoving his cock deep inside her, she had raked her hands through his hair, her body quaking under his potent thrusts.
    He lay face up on the bed so she could not see his back, but she would not have been surprised if there were scratch marks on it. During one particularly powerful climax, she had clawed at the hard muscles, fearing her heart would burst from the penetrating explosiveness of her orgasm.
    That had been the eleventh climax she had experienced that night under Tristan’s hands, lips, tongue and cock.
    Oh, yes, she’d kept count.
    Tristan's sexual stamina was beyond belief. Not only had he been able to go for extended lengths of time before climaxing, but after he had come, he was ready to fuck again. She looked at his groin. His thickly-veined cock lay heavy and soft between his hard thighs. Her fingers itched to stroke it but, again, she did not wish to wake him.
    She stared up at the ceiling as the early morning light slowly stole across it. She needed to get her clothes from his dryer. She was off from work today so there was no need to worry about that, but she honestly had not planned on spending the night away from her home.
    She pushed the sheets away and made to get out of bed.
    “And just where do you think you’re going?” Tristan’s muscular arms slid around her and pulled her back into bed. “I’m not done with you, sweet.”
    Lydia laughed, her body warming at his touch. “I was going to get my clothes out of the dryer. We forgot about them. They’re probably all wrinkled.”
    Tristan nuzzled her neck. “I’m the Master of the Laundry, my lass, and I will see to thy garments anon.”
    He gently but firmly pushed her back onto the bed. He gazed down at her in the pale morning light, his dark blue eyes drawing her deep into their mystical depths.
    She reached up and gently stroked the planes of his face. She was still filled with wonder that a man so young and so handsome had not only desired her but had spent hours pleasuring her.
    He smiled. “Lovely Lydia. You're even lovelier in the morning.”
    She scoffed. She couldn’t help it. Most of her makeup was gone, her hair was a mess, and she knew that in the light he could easily see the lines along her eyes. “Really, Tristan. I appreciate what you're trying to do, but you don't have to keep giving me false compliments.”
    His eyes widened. “False? What? You don’t believe me?”
    “I’m thirty-nine years old.”
    There. She had said it. He knew exactly