Page 150 of False God

Lili’s perched on the table mostly used for mixing grains, studying the row of polo trophies on the shelf. She leans over and picks up the one I won in the Hamptons, shaking her head once before setting it back.

“You can have it.”

“I don’t want your pity prize.” She rolls her eyes, then wraps her arms around herself.

“You cold?”

The fans are spinning at full speed overhead, and her clothes are so saturated with water that they’re dripping.

“A little.”

I reach for one of the Barbour jackets on the row of hooks. When I look back at Lili, she’s in the midst of taking off her top.

“I don’t think that’s going to warm you up much,” I say, shocked that my voice sounds normal.

She’s wearing a black lace bra—so sheer that it’s see-through. Her borrowed boots get kicked off next, and then she’s peeling down her pants. Her underwear matches the gauzy material of her bra.

I toss the jacket on the table and step toward her in a trance, the sudden need to touch her skin my singular focus. My hands land on her hips, sliding over her stomach and then down to cup her ass.

Lili shivers, pressing closer against me. Her hands slip into my hair, shaking errant drops free.

I groan.

Because it feels good, but mostly because it’sLilitouching me. I’m so hard that it’s physically painful, my wet trousers tighter than a straitjacket, but I’m also experiencing a sweet sense of relief.

I missed you, I think.

Her hands slide down my chest, settling on the waistband of my pants.

“I don’t have a condom,” I say. Lust has spread to my vocal cords, my tone a similar consistency to gravel.

Lili says nothing. She doesn’t pull away either.

For a few seconds, all I can hear is the rapid drumming of rain on the roof and the frantic pulse of my heart thumping in my chest.

“Do you … need one?”

I tense.

James mostly stayed out of my romantic life. Mysexlife really, considering my intention has always been to fuck around until I was forced to get married. But one of my most vivid memories of my father was the evening he called me into his office and hammered the importance of using protection into my brain. Told me women would try to trap and manipulate me, that an “illegitimate” child would ruin the Marlboroughbloodline. An archaic view I disagreed with, but I wasn’t interested in a baby, so it was easy enough to nod along. Whenever this suggestion has come up before, it’s been easy to turn down. They were flings with women who were essentially strangers. I barely knew them, much less trusted them.

I trust Lili. I know she’s asking because she wantsme.

My entire life, I’ve looked ahead to the day I’d get married and have kids with the enthusiasm of a prisoner headed to his execution. An unpleasant inevitability. A stressful obligation.

Having a kid with Lili doesn’t freak me out.

Is it something I’m ready for now? No.

Is it something I want—with her—someday? Yes.

And the thought of filling her with my cum? It’s even more arousing than leaving marks on her with my mouth.

“Guess so.” Lili’s hands drop, and she jerks free from my grip.

Once again, I waited too long to say what I was thinking. What Iwant.

“Lili …” I reach for her.

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