Page 39 of Tell Me Lies

Stopping, he gazes up at me. “Prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen. And look at you, sprawled out on my kitchen counter, ready to be my next meal.”

And then … he dives in. His tongue plunges inside of me as he hooks his hands around my legs. The visual alone has my head spinning as I moan, watching him eat me like I’m the best thing he’s ever tasted. Everything inside of me needs this, and every single sane thought is telling me it’s not a good idea. But I can’t push him away. It feels too good.

My hands fist his hair, tugging tightly as my hips rock against his mouth, desperate for more.

“That’s it, baby. Take what you need. Let that greedy, tight pussy fuck my tongue,” he growls from between my legs.

He removes his tongue from me just long enough for me to attempt to push my body toward him. He smirks up at me; although his mouth is on my clit, I can see it in his eyes.

It builds so fast—this furious orgasm that’s seconds away from avalanching down my entire body. This will be the secondtime that it’s all about me and he’s not getting anything out of it. That’s not really fair.

Pulling my hips back, I lift his head up gently by his hair. “I’m going to come if you don’t stop.”

His smirk only grows, mixing with a mischievous look. “Tell me, Boston, the men in your books, have they ever made the girl come three times in one scene?”

My heart races as I stare wildly at him. “N-no.”

“Well, now, you can add that to the book you’re writing. Because let’s face it, babe; I know I’m the inspiration.”

Gripping my legs harder, he yanks me against his mouth again, and within seconds, I see little white specks dancing in my vision as my toes curl and my back arches off the counter.

“Oh … my … God,” I moan. “Please, don’t stop,” I bite out, bucking my hips against his mouth as my orgasm hits its peak.

His tongue doesn’t stop working its magic on me until I’m completely spent. Only, instead of like last time, when he pulled back, this time, he quickly unhooks his arms from my legs and wraps them around my abdomen, lifting me from the counter.

Walking us toward the table, he sets me down and spins me around, bending me over and shoving me face down against the table. His hand tangles into my hair, pushing my cheek harder against the wood, and I hear him undoing his jeans.

“What do you say, Boston?” he utters roughly. “Can I fuck you from behind on this table?”

I don’t even consider saying no because less than a minute after the greatest orgasm of my life, I’m already aching for him again. “Cond—”

“I’m clean. I’m almost positive you’re clean.” He stops. “Birth control?”

“IUD,” I whisper. The idea of taking him bare has me physically throbbing in desperate need. “I’m clean.”

He palms my ass cheek, giving it a spank and making it jiggle with his touch. I’m sure most of the women he’s been with go to the gym daily and don’t have excess fat. I’m curvy, and in spots like my thighs and ass, I’m on the thicker side. But when I try to squirm to flip over, his hand presses into my hair more aggressively, keeping me still.

“Don’t even think about flipping over; the sight of you, ass up on my dining room table, is too fucking hot.” Grabbing one of my hands, he pulls it toward him, running it against his length. “Do you feel how fucking hard I am, baby? And it’s all for you.”

He moves my hand to the tip, and I feel some moisture seep onto my fingertips.

“My cock is already dripping for you, and you’ve barely even touched me,” he grunts before he pulls my hand from him and brings my fingers toward my mouth. “Open up,” he commands, and instantly, my lips part. He slowly pushes my fingertips against my tongue. “Taste me, sweet thing.”

The salty taste awakens my taste buds, and right away, I want more of him. But before I can take more, the tip of his cock hovers against my entrance.

“Ready to come for the second time?” he utters.

Moving his hips, he drives his cock inside of me slowly. It stings as he stretches me.

“Such a good girl, taking my cock for the first time so well,” he praises me, which only makes me wetter. “That’s it, baby. Get yourself nice and soaked and drip all over my cock.”

In no time, he’s fucking me in a rhythm. The sound of his hips hitting my ass is like music to my ears, and I know that no matter what words I try to use to describe that delicious sound in my book, it won’t come close. I suppose the same could be said for how good my heroine will feel during this scene and all the sensations in her being. How can I sum it up in a few paragraphs when I feel everything?

I feel so …alive.

His hand reaches around me, and he pushes his thumb to my clit, making a circular motion. That’s all it takes for my body to completely fall apart. I fight back loud moans, not wanting to wake Amelia. He must feel what’s happening because he takes one hand and grips my neck lightly.

“That’s it, Boston. Give me that second orgasm. Drip down this cock so that it’s soaked for when I fuck you next.”

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