Page 75 of Loving the Liar

He pulls back and pushes in deeper again. In a few strokes, he’s bottoming out inside me.

Stilling his movements, he brings his hand to my sweaty forehead and pushes strands of hair away.

“I’m going to make you come on my dick, Sweets. Do you need me to gag you so no one hears you?” He punctuates his question with a short thrust that makes me whimper.

I squeeze my eyes, shame choking me. And I nod.

“Words.” Another slow roll of his hips while he’s deep inside me.

“Yes,” I moan. “Please, Daddy. Gag me.”

“My pleasure, baby.”

He takes hold of the dish cloth hanging from the oven handle, twists it a few times, and murmurs softly. “Open.”

I do, letting him put the material in my mouth. I think he’s going to tie both ends behind my head, but instead he grips them with one hand and pulls back, like holding reins.

I squeak when my head lifts toward him, and he thrusts harshly inside me. He uses the cloth as a lever, pulling a little harder every time he thrusts in and making me choke on it. Each thrust is a step farther down to a hell that feels heavenly, each moan that I swallow back is the kind of shame I’ll never be able to wash off. He’s making me see stars before he even starts shifting so that he grazes against my G-spot. He hits it repeatedly, driving me completely insane.

I can’t even breathe anymore when I convulse around his cock, my wetness dripping down the apex of my thighs, and he releases in a restrained grunt, making sure to try to be discreet about it.

He’s still inside me when the oven timer beeps, startling me.

“Perfect timing,” he purrs as he pulls out, taking the cloth out of my mouth and throwing it over his shoulder.

I feel his thick cum slipping, and he pushes my panties back in place. “Don’t touch.”

“Chris,” I complain, but the slap on my ass makes me clamp my mouth shut.

Gently holding my waist, he turns me around and lifts me onto the counter. He moves around the kitchen, filling a glass of water and giving it to me. I’m still on cloud nine, completely unaware what is reality and what is my post-orgasm high as he stops the timer, takes hold of the cloth again and folds it, using it to pull the tray of cookies out of the oven.

He leaves them for a minute, turning to me as he takes something out of his pocket. I put the glass to the side, grateful for the hydration, but I don’t know what to say to him, so I keep my eyes on my thighs.

I hear a plastic wrap being fiddled with, and a second later, he’s gently gripping my chin and pushing a love heart into my mouth.

I let it rest on my tongue, loving the sweetness.

“Why do you keep giving me these?” I ask quietly.

“Because I know you,” he snorts. “You forget to eat. That’s when you don’t skip meals on purpose to keep your preferred body shape for ballet. You don’t take good care of yourself, and I don’t want you to faint or go into shock after I fuck you the way I do. A bit of sugar only does you good.”

My heart skips a beat.

Shit. I hate that I love the way he takes care of me.

Our eyes meet as I look up. I feel dizzy from the powerful trance he’s able to keep me in. He leans down, ready to kiss me. But I pull away.

“Ella,” he growls, gripping my chin tighter. “Stop this.”

I get out of his grip by grabbing his forearm and pushing him off me. He lets me. I’m not sure why.

“I don’t want you to kiss me.”

“Why?”

“Because it makes me feel like you love me.” It’s a barely audible sentence, but I know he doesn’t miss it.

Gripping both my thighs, he settles between my legs. “Do you really think I would put myself at so much risk if I didn’t love you? Do you think I would have challenged an established Shadow the night of initiations? Risk my deal with Megan? Don’t act ignorant just because you think it’ll help you out of this. There is no way out.”

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