My Great Escape Led Me to You (Emily Blair) novel Chapter 917

No matter where she tried to move, it felt less like resistance and more like a silent invitation. Tristan Davis’s breathing grew heavier, his hand pressing harder against her back.

Emily Blair’s mind had turned to mush, a complete, tangled mess.

She struggled to open her eyes, only to meet a pair of deep, stormy eyes staring right back at her.

Her heart skipped a beat.

A sense of foreboding crept in.

Suddenly, Tristan’s arms tightened around her, spinning her in his grasp.

The car door swung open, and in a clumsy rush, he pulled her into the back seat with him.

Emily lay stunned across the leather seats, watching as Tristan leaned over to slam the door shut, then shifted back on top of her.

She managed to prop herself up, hands pressed firmly against his chest.

“Tristan, can we just… calm down and talk, please?”

But Tristan only smiled, brushed a quick kiss across her lips, his voice rough and low, “Let’s talk after one more kiss.”

Emily’s eyes went wide.

And then, they were tangled together again, lips meeting in a desperate clash.

She gave up resisting, letting Tristan do as he pleased—at this point, what difference did it make?

Somewhere along the way, one of them bit too hard, and Emily tasted the sharp tang of blood.

It was painfully obvious: Tristan was a terrible kisser. He was all urgency and force, more like an onslaught than an embrace, his grip almost punishing. Emily’s lips stung from the impact.

Maybe his wildness was contagious, or maybe it was the way he smelled—warm and impossibly inviting—but suddenly, she found herself responding, testing the waters, meeting his intensity with her own.

Tristan hesitated for a heartbeat, then his kisses softened, turning gentle, almost tender, and Emily was swept along helplessly.

Their hands found each other, fingers weaving together, holding tight as if neither wanted to let go.

By the time they finally broke apart, Emily had no idea how long it had been. Both were breathless, lips swollen and flushed, their mouths marked by the unmistakable sheen of mingled spit.

Her heart was racing out of control, hair askew, scalp tingling, eyes unfocused as she stared up at the car’s ceiling.

Tristan’s head was buried in the crook of her neck, his breath hot against her skin, the soft brush of his hair tickling her jaw, but she was too dazed to care.

Emily closed her eyes, fighting the goosebumps and the wild thudding in her chest.

She gave Tristan a little shove. “Come on, Tristan… let me up.”

But he only tightened his hold, refusing to budge.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify