Page 29 of Tell Me Something True

“Do you still want this?” he asked gruffly.

She licked her lips. “Yes. I still want this.” She let her voice drop to a husky, honest whisper. “I want you, Miles.”

His eyes flared, his mouth flattening into a tight line. Letting go of his cock, he dug his wallet out of his pocket and took out a condom. Rolled it down his length and stepped forward.

He lined the blunt head of his cock to her entrance. Rubbed it there, along her slit, spreading her wetness. Tapped his fingers against the base of her spine, right above the cleft of her butt. “Stick that ass in the air. Prove you want this.”

She arched her back, her grip on the back on the couch tightening as he smoothed his fingertips between her ass cheeks. She wiggled against him, pushing back, seeking more of that hard, hot cock at her pussy, and he finally slid the tip of his dick inside her.

He slid his hands to her hips, his fingertips barely curling around her waist. “Brace yourself,” he warned her, low and guttural.

She tried, but he shoved himself into her with such force, her arms buckled and she ended up with her face smashed against the back of the couch.

He didn’t slow. Just pulled back and slammed into her again. And again. Hard and quick, he set a brutal pace that was at once punishment and pleasure.

And so incredible, it took her several long moments before she could find the will to push herself upright again.

She used the leverage to push back against him. Take him deeper. The couch moved with each thrust, the rhythmic sounds of it knocking against the wall mixing with the sharp slap of his body against hers. He fucked her hard and fast and in a matter of minutes, her second orgasm began to build. Pushing her arms straight against the couch, she ground back against him. Met him thrust for thrust, but once again, it wasn’t enough.

Once again, she needed him.

Once again she was willing to beg. “Miles… please…”

Without slowing his pace, he reached around her hip and between her legs. Rubbed her clit, the hardness of his finger beneath the silk of her panties sending her over the edge into a long, lush orgasm.

She came silently this time as sensation after sensation swept through her. Too full of pleasure to do anything other than go boneless when it subsided, her arms falling from the back of the couch, her legs going weak.

“Not done,” he ground out from behind her, both hands back on her hips, gripping only hard enough to yank her ass higher. Holding her there, right there, so he could plunge harder still. “Not done fucking you.”

But she couldn’t hold herself upright any longer. It was as if her orgasm had melted her muscles, the intensity of it liquifying her bones and she collapsed, her face pressed against the back of the sofa at an awkward angle, her arms sliding down to her sides.

He maneuvered her to the left. “Open your eyes.”

Her lids flew open—not because of the command, or at least, not only because of the command, but because she couldn’t figure out how he knew her eyes had been closed—and she saw her reflection in the glass of a tall antique looking cabinet against the wall.

She was splayed, ass in the air, hair a wild, tangled mass, her mouth parted while he stood behind her, feet braced all the better to drill into her.

His jaw was tight, his expression hard with a mix of that pleasure and pain he’d given her. The muscles of his ass flexed with each thrust, but his hands on her hips stayed light.

Until she lifted her head and started to push upright.

His left hand gripped her hip, not hard enough for those marks he’d talked about wanting to leave on her, but enough for her to still. It was a warning. One he followed up by sliding his right hand up her spine. Up, up, up until his fingers lightly curled around the nape of her neck.

He pressed her head back down. Held it there, his fingers wrapped softly around her throat. His thumb under her jaw, angling her head so her gaze was once again on their reflection.

“Keep your eyes open,” he grunted, his breaths, like the slide of his cock, quick and deep. “Open and on me the entire time.”

Her heart hammered in her chest. Testing him, and maybe herself, she attempted to lift her head, but he held her down with ease.

And then he gave her the one thing she hadn’t even known she’d wanted.

He tightened his fingers. Just a little.

She was sure it was meant to be a warning.

But to her, it was a gift.

Because she wasn’t scared. Wasn’t dragged back to the past.

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