Tristan knew that watching Cosima shop, knowing he held the power to make her shake from pleasure, would be a turn-on, but he hadn’t anticipated how much. By the time they’d made it back to her apartment, he was hard and aching. She hummed to herself as she sorted baubles, ornaments, and fabric into piles, and Tristan couldn’t help but take her in. He couldn’t believe that he was here with a woman he had just met but felt like a summer rain against his soul. She was so into separating the décor that she didn’t notice him pull his phone from his pocket. He opened the app and contemplated for a few seconds about how he wanted to play his hand. He could’ve gone for shock and awe, but he decided against it, even though he no longer had to exercise the kind of patience he had while they were in the store. He started off with the least powerful vibrations on the end of the toy cocooned where his dick was dying to be, smiling a little when Cosima’s humming abruptly stopped. She turned her head and caught his gaze. Tristan hoped she could see the message that was plain in his eyes: game on.

Her eyes widened a bit, and the garland she’d been holding slipped through her fingers when he increased the level of the vibrations before turning on the clitoral stimulator at its highest intensity.

She gasped.

Tristan got harder.

He shifted on the couch as he continued adjusting the settings until he was satisfied he was delivering the sweetest onslaught of pleasure to Cosima. She’d given up trying to stand and sank down onto the plush carpet, and that affected him in ways he couldn’t quite put his finger on. He pushed himself up from the couch and crossed the small distance between them, dropped to his knees beside her, and brought his palm to her cheek.

Tristan brushed his thumb against her quivering lips and whispered, “How are we doing, baby?”