Tryst Companions Novels & Stories

The man named Forester rolled his eyes. "You two are just the worst of friends." Tristan just laughed at this comment. Peane Forester is also a friend of both him and Bastian, although he doesn't like to hang out with them as Peane seemed to be the mediator whenever they fought. "Well, let's continue with our journey." Peane sighed, "If only you just used the scrolls, then we would've been there by now." Tristan just ignored Peane's comment straightened up, looking at the house walks away from where they stood.

We had joined the service of the King the same year, had been raised side by side. "Only a fool would move against the King." Tristan scoffed, shaking his head. "I simply did what our species must--I marked a mate of my choosing, one worthy of me." Something strange rushed through me, adding another overlooked factor to my mind. "She is still half werewolf." I noted, "She has an intended mate out there. What will your course of action be if her intended is not you?" Tristan looked perplexed, as though the thought had never crossed his mind. This did not surprise me. Tristan was compulsive, living in the moment as he pleased. Consequences were not always in his mind.

With Asher, instead of being warm, it felt electrifying and sent sparks erupting across her skin. Asher, noticing that the handshake was lingering a bit too long for his liking, cleared his throat. “I guess it’s official then. The Yates Group and Ashscapes designs are now partners.” Tristan blinked and withdrew his hand as he realized himself. “Yes, indeed, Mr. Wayne,” he agreed, adjusting the lapel of his suit. Then his gaze moved back to Jasmine, but he avoided eye contact. “I apologize if I made you uncomfortable, Miss. Lane. The contact just felt…familiar and I got carried away.”

“I am well aware of the situation at hand. It is why I am fucking worried and terrified.” “Lou-” “This is the Tryst pack, for goddess sakes!” I snap, nearly breaking down in tears. “The Tryst pack! You know their rules! They kill all rogues that cross their territory on sight!” “And yet, we are still alive.” “That-” “That means something. It means our mate-”

Blank. "Am I?" Tristan shook his hair, exhaling roughly. I could hear a tilt of shakiness in the exhale. "Dylan, don't do this. You're upset right now, but let's not try to make something that it wasn't." I snapped. "Right." My voice was barely above a whisper. Done. Exhausted. "Just friends with benefits, right?" Tristan paused, his jaw clenched, his balled fist turning whiter. "That's not—"

"I will be your fire. Garrick will be your shield. Vane will be your... whatever Vane is." "Annoyance?" Tristan suggested. "Distraction," she smiled. She leaned in, her forehead resting against his. "We are a broken team, Tristan. A pirate, a hacker, a powerless prince, and a dragon. But we're the only ones who can do this." Tristan closed his eyes. He breathed in the scent of her—smoke and rain and skin. "The Frost-Vault," he murmured. "It's cold there. Colder than the Sky-Spire."

“You look presentable.” What kind of compliment is that? “I'm Carmen, by the way, Tristan’s friend.” Oh. She emphasizes the word 'friend' so much that I briefly wonder what kind of friend she means. Before I can ask, Tristan appears beside me, his hands possessively wrapping around my waist. “Tristan.” He growls, “Hi, Carmen. It’s been a while.” “Yes, I was just talking to your wife.” She ignores me completely, her full attention on him—as if I've disappeared.

The tent lies half-destroyed, my goods scattered, yet I feel more satisfied than I ever have. I turn toward him and thread my fingers through his hair, drawing him in for a final lingering kiss. Our bodies are spent, but the heat between us still simmers, promising more moments like this beneath the desert stars. “Welcome to the caravan, partner,” I whisper against his lips. The addictive heat promises that this is only the beginning of a much longer, far more pleasurable journey along the Silk Road. I already know I will never grow tired of testing each other, of the power that shifts so effortlessly between us, or of the way our bodies fit together in the aftermath of storms, both literal

She burst out laughing at the memory. "Not funny, Sophie!" I snapped, hurling a cushion at her. "Sorry, sorry!" she giggled, catching it easily. "But look at the bright side. If you're tutoring Ryder, you're going to be in close proximity to Tristan." I blinked, my irritation halting as I looked up. "What do you mean?" "Think about it, Tessy! Ryder and Tristan are roommates. If you're constantly over there for these sessions, you automatically get to be around Tristan."

Sir Tristan sighs. My hands begin to twist the leash of the collar I hold in frustration. My pet lets out a small yip as his collar grows tighter. I pause to give him a scouring glance and watch as he shrivels under my touch, my nipples growing hard with unsated pleasure. To my left there is a tall, gilded cage holding 20 birds of various sizes and breeds, the latest quarry brought in from our night rides. I reach to the side and rattle the cage, never breaking eye contact. I feel my juices begin to flow as he whimpers. I pull the leash hard and watch him grow silent as blood begins to trickle down his neck. At this moment I wasn’t sure if I wanted to beat him or fuck him. Either way, I was