He wanted to do this and more to Aiden. His muscles clenched as waves of pleasure washed over him. His fingers curled around the strands of Aiden’s hair and he pulled, trying to get Aiden to let go. Instead, he upped his efforts, groaning louder the harder Tristan gripped the curls in his hand. The tingles all but exploded, and even though Tristan fought it, he quickly realised he was losing the battle. “Gonna come,” he grunted as a white-hot blast shot through his groin.
He pulled at Aiden’s hair with more urgency and tried to get him to let go. He didn’t want to be too rough, didn’t want to cause Aiden any pain by tugging at his locks, but no matter what he did, Aiden continued his onslaught—turning Tristan into a whimpering mess. sldquo;Aiden!drdquo;