Page 48 of Twisted Truths

The words hang between us. She looks as if she’s not sure how to respond, but I force myself not to fill the silence. I don’t want to talk her into it or have to convince her. If she says yes, I want it to be because she wants to experiment with her sexuality, not because she’s pleasing me.

“Won’t I… wake up?” She bites her plump bottom lip.

I nod. “Of course. And that’s fine. That’s part of it for me.”

She leans back into the couch cushion, looking down at her lap for a few moments.

I hold my breath, waiting for her answer. When she hasn’t spoken in a couple of minutes, I tell her, “There’s no pressure to give me an answer right now. Take as long as you want to think about it.”

She looks up from her lap. “I trust you, Obsidian. Just like I did up on that turret, like I did in your car. Yes, I want to see what it’s like.”

Elation fills my bloodstream like the fizz of carbonation. I smile what feels like the first real smile I’ve had in decades. “Really?”

Her hand cups my cheek. “If I get to see this smile afterward.”

I place my hand over hers, dwarfing it. “Do you want to?”

She nods. “It looks good on you.”

My chest aches with how much emotion this woman tugs out of me. Almost as if I can’t possibly contain it all. “Maybe I will then.”

The urge to kiss her is so great that I almost succumb to temptation. But I haven’t kissed a woman in over a decade, and I can’t start with her. There’d be no coming back from it. I can’t afford to be all in with this woman. Eventually, I’d break her. Apples never fall that far.

“It’s agreed then. One night this week, and I won’t tell you when, I’ll come into your room while you’re sleeping and do what I want to you.”

She nods, a flicker of excitement in her eyes. “It’s agreed.”

I don’t know how I don’t pounce on her immediately, but somehow, I manage to stand from the couch and go behind my desk to start work for the day.

Three nights later, I slip out of my bed at one in the morning. I didn’t think I’d make it this many nights. I’ve been picturing taking Ariana as she sleeps. I’ve beat off to the idea of it ever since Ariana agreed.

Bare-chested in my gray lounge pants, I walk toward the bookcase in my bedroom and pull Edgar Allan Poe’s Fall of the House of Usher. The whole bookcase slides to the side, revealing the hidden passageway tucked inside.

The east wing was my father’s domain when he was alive, and it didn’t shock me when I came across this passageway by accident years ago. He probably used it to sneak into my mother’s room when she’d lock him out, before she moved to another wing at some point in their marriage. I’m not even sure if my brothers know it exists.

I light the candle I leave on the bookcase and turn back toward the entrance. Only sheer will allows me to enter the snug space, given the torture my father put me through as a child. But I overcame it years ago, unwilling to let him win and make me claustrophobic.

I count the doors I pass in the low light generated by the flickering candle, and when I reach the one that leads to Ariana’s bedroom, I slowly push it open and walk through. She’s snug in her bed and sound asleep, red hair draped across the pillow.

She looks so peaceful and young. Every one of the ten years between us seems amplified by the soft candlelight, her face and breathing relaxed.

After I set the candle on the bedside table, I slide my pants down my legs and step out of them. Standing at the edge of the bed, I watch her for a minute and stroke my cock, thinking of how fucking good it’s going to feel when I sink into her.

In preparation, I bend down and slide the bottle of lube from the pocket of my lounge pants, then squirt some on my palm and stroke it over my dick. My goal isn’t to hurt her. I wouldn’t take any pleasure from doing so.

The bottle lands with a soft thud on top of my pants, and I slide onto the bed slowly so that I don’t wake her. The blankets are already half off her body, and I can see that she’s wearing just a T-shirt and underwear, like she was the morning she found me in the secret garden.

I bite my lip as I ease in behind her, careful not to wake her. She doesn’t move an inch, and her breathing doesn’t lose its natural, relaxed rhythm. My cock is painfully hard as I stare at her profile, gently pushing her underwear aside. She is blissfully unaware that I’m here. The fact that she’s allowing me to do this is a gift she’s offering me.

Fisting the base of my cock, I slide it between her folds until I feel her entrance, then I gently slide inside her with a satisfied sigh. A rush of endorphins floods through me.

It’s as good as the first time I was inside her. Unlike the first time, though, I ease myself in and out, running one hand up under her T-shirt and feeling the weight of her breast in my palm. She makes a sound but doesn’t move at first, then after a few more pumps inside her, she stiffens with a sharp inhale until she knows it’s me. Her relaxation and the arch of her hips to give me access says how perfect she is for me. All without a word being said between us.

God, she’s a fucking dream.

I release her breast and lift her leg, hooking it in the crook of my elbow before increasing my pace. The sounds of our labored breaths and wet slapping bounce off the walls. I nuzzle my face into her shock of red hair, inhaling her natural scent.

Her cunt is squeezing me so tight it’s a wonder I haven’t come. Sliding my other arm between her waist and the mattress, I bring my hand around until I find her mound and circle my fingers. A sharp rush of air slips through her lips, and her core flutters around my length.

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