Page 71 of Twisted Lies

“Someone on the side,” Justin explains casually, “A friend that’s more than just a friend.” His fingertips touch my shoulder as I take in a sharp breath. “You’re my muse, and I will do what I want to keep you. But even if I share you with another, know this: when you’re with me, you’re mine.”

His lips brush my bare shoulder, and I tremble under his touch as my skin flares with goose bumps. My eyes close again as his mouth stays on my shoulder. His hand moves slowly down the length of my arm, and Justin guides my hand onto his hard bulge. I feel the stiff outline under the worn denim. Imagining him deep inside me, I gasp as if I can already feel him spreading me apart.

“Why would you be okay with being on the side?” I ask him, “Don’t you want to be the only one?”

His lips leave my shoulder. “You don’t want me bad enough.” His fingers tug at the drawstring, and my warm-up pants slide to the floor with a soft hiss. My tight spandex shorts outline my thighs and my pussy.

“But I do want you,” I whisper breathlessly as my heart pounds in my ears. “Bad.”

“Desire me, maybe?” he asks, “I want you, Astrid. And I’m willing to do it on our terms, but no one else’s.”

“I don’t have terms,” I whisper and then moan as his hand lightly traces my inner thigh.

“You will.” Justin’s hands move to my waist, and he pulls me into a hot kiss. I moan as I clutch his strong shoulders. His wiry build pushes hard into mine. I move against him hungrily, grinding myself against his hard-on. His mouth crushes kisses against my bare chest, and his long hair tickles my nipples into tight peaks. I’m so wet.

Justin lingers as the tip of his tongue touches my aroused nipple. He presses his face to my skin and inhales my scent.

I come alive as Justin proves how much he wants me the way I am. The way I’ve always been. But I’m not like that anymore. I’m a Howland, and Howlands have self-respect. They don’t let their bodies take control and fuck boys like a bitch in heat.

Fuck it. I want this. I reach for the button on his jeans, undoing it and letting him loose. I run my hand along his long, thick length as my pussy throbs.

“I want to feel you in between my legs,” I whisper.

Justin lifts his head and smiles. “You turn me on,” he moans, “You make me thirsty.”

His hands dive into my shorts. He tugs them down until gravity takes over, and they fall to the floor. Justin starts to kneel down in front of me, but I grab his shoulders, holding him in place. His eyes scowl at me as if I’m a dirty tease.

I shake my head. “Not me. This time, it’s you,” I whisper, “I want you more than you think.”

“Why?” he asks.

I freeze, caught in his fixed gaze, and withdraw into a thought I don’t want to share. I try to kiss him, but he pulls away.

“Why?” he asks again with a tense tone in his usually smooth voice.

I can’t look him in the eyes. I’d rather be naked in front of him than admit out loud how I feel about anyone. I swallow hard. My hands curl into fists and grip his T-shirt. “You have legit talent, Justin. You’re a real artist. The things you put on paper with only a few lines.” My voice cracks a little. “You don’t need me. But you treat me well, and I like it when you’re kind.”

He smiles at the awkward words I forced out of my throat. “I need my muse,” he says, pulling me closer.

We hold each other’s gaze until he kisses my lips, long and deep. A flurry of tingles rises inside of me as I hold him tighter. Without Pierce, Justin is kind, and there’s nothing wrong with having gentleness in my life. Why shouldn’t a boy be nice to me? Why do I constantly have to struggle to be loved?

Justin’s tongue sweeps across mine as he presses his hard bulge against me, and I moan into his mouth. I feel the wetness between my thighs building as we kiss like we can’t stop. I run my hands through his hair, and the silkiness through my fingers gives me chills.

“You have a condom?” I ask, pulling away.

He nods.

“Good boy.”

I kneel in front of Justin, pulling his jeans down to the platform while he yanks off his shirt. We’re both naked, and it gives me a wicked chill on the back of my legs. I rise up on my knees, watching his eyes as I lick the pre-cum off his tip. I never would’ve considered a guy who wasn’t a badass. At Monarch, love was proven by claiming and allowing it to take you. But this emotion guiding me is new; I want to please Justin because he pleases me.

My mouth glides forward and then back, feeling the taut skin against my flattened tongue. Justin moans as my lips circle his ridge, and I give him a slow stroke with the tip of my tongue. His breathing picks up, but I slow down, teasing his inches until they’re harder than a rock. I look up with big eyes, eager to please as Justin looks down at me in a hazy heat.

“Astrid, baby,” he groans, closing his eyes. “I will always make you happy.”

I pull back, letting his cock slip out of my lips. His hard tool bobs in front of my mouth. I wait until Justin’s watching me lick the spit off my bottom lip. I lean backward on the platform until my ass is on the ground and then open my legs wide. I’m glistening for him.

Justin steps off the platform and rummages through a tackle box filled with art gear. He tosses pencils and stick erasers onto the ground before taking out a condom. It doesn’t bother me that he’s prepared.

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