Page 147 of Tell Me Something True

Her words were soft. Breathless. A whispered confession that had him going still, his heart stuttering in the confines of his too-tight chest.

“Tell me,” he demanded, needing her to say it.

“Reed was right. I do come here most nights. And while I’m not often left alone, I always leave alone. Always.” She cleared her throat, her gaze never once wavering from his. “This” —she lifted one hand to gesture between them— “hasn’t happened with anyone else. There hasn’t been anyone else. Not for me. Not since that first night.”

She winced, and he realized he’d tightened his hand on her hair once again, this time too hard, and he immediately loosened his grip.

“Don’t.” She covered his hand with hers, as if afraid he was going to pull away. “Don’t treat me like I’m fragile. Don’t treat me like that girl you used to know. The one you were so afraid of breaking. The one you were so desperate to save. Treat me like the woman you want so badly you dragged her through a bar and didn’t care who saw.”

She curled her fingers around his thumb and slowly peeled it open from his fist, her hair still wrapped around his palm. Head tipped back, gaze on his, direct and honest, she dragged his hand forward until his thumb pressed against the center of her throat.

“Give me everything,” she whispered.

Letting go of his hand, she laid her palm back on his thigh, then edged forward slightly.

And pressed the delicate line of her throat more firmly against his thumb.

He inhaled sharply. Tried to hold onto some hint of control, but what she was offering him was too tempting to ignore. Too powerful to resist.

Permission to let go.

He turned her head toward his dick. Pressed his thumb lightly against her throat until her head was tipped at the angle he wanted.

“Open,” he grunted, a gruff and greedy command.

Her lips parted immediately, her quick compliance making him even harder.

Letting go of his cock, he fluttered his fingertips across her forehead, gaze tracking her features. Committing the sight of her like this to memory, he traced her eyebrow with the tip of his forefinger before sliding it down her cheek, then along the line of her jaw. Pressing the pad of his thumb against her scar, he pinched her chin between his thumb and forefinger and forced her mouth open wider.

Then shoved his cock in with a long, swift stroke.

Her head went back from the force of it, her fingers once more curling into his thighs as if to seek purchase. Pushed lightly against him as if to stop him.

He froze, every muscle tensed with the need to keep going. To take what he wanted.

But he didn’t want to take what she didn’t want to give him. Freely. Willingly.

He waited for what seemed like hours, his hard cock lying against her tongue, pulsing in the warm, wet recesses of her mouth, his heart rate unsteady and too fast from a combination of adrenalin and lust and the fear that he’d already done something to hurt her.

But in reality it was only a few moments, just enough time for her to scoot her knees wider and sit back slightly. To tip her head back a little more and give him an even better angle.

Then she slid her hands around the back of his thighs and pulled, dragging him closer, sliding his cock farther into her mouth.

Lifting her eyes to his face, looking up at him, she curled her tongue around the underside of his cock.

He groaned, the sound dark and guttural and primal. Shut his eyes against the combined rush of lust and relief that went through him.

Then he started to move.

“You look so good like this,” he murmured breathlessly, loving the sight of her pretty, pink lips wrapped around his cock as he slid it in and out of her mouth in slow, easy strokes. Teasing himself. Testing her.

Holding back, even though he’d promised her he wouldn’t.

Afraid of what it would cost him to let go.

So he held on. Despite how amazing it felt to be inside her warm, wet mouth, and the soft, muffled sounds she made. Moans, as if she loved the taste of him. Whimpers, as if she knew he was holding back and wanted more.

She gripped the bunched material of his jeans and yanked them farther down his legs. Dipped her hands under the waistband of his underwear, her touch restless as she scraped her nails against his ass cheeks.

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