Page 105 of The Liar's Reckoning

His words cut off when I drop to my knees and start unbuttoning his pants.

“Oh…”

He doesn’t protest, just runs his fingers through my hair while I focus intently on freeing him from his jeans and boxer briefs. His scent hits me first, causing saliva to pool in my cheeks. The hint of spicy musk enveloped in herbal soap. The faint note of laundry detergent that comes from freshly cleaned clothes.Silas.

His thick, flaccid length tells me I’ve caught him by surprise, but I feed it into my mouth inch by inch anyway, stuffing myself full of him until he’s all the way to my throat. I wrap a hand around his balls and give them a soft tug, eliciting a moan and a tighter grip on my hair.

He whispers, “Baby that feels so good, but…” He doesn’t finish the sentence as I draw my lips over his hardening shaft before swallowing him again.

“Wait…” he pleads after his thighs give a hard shake.

I draw away, his cock fully erect and aimed for the ceiling. He lowers himself to his knees and presses his mouth to mine. I shake my head. “I want it.”

“I know. I just can’t stand up—you’re gonna make me pass out.”

“Lie down then,” I insist.

His lips meet mine firmly. “I am.”

I wait impatiently as he shifts onto his ass and lies back on the floor, shoving his pants off and parting his thighs. I push his shirt up so I can see his abs. I bend over him, grab his now leaking cock and engulf it.

His back rises from the floor as his hands cup my cheeks. His thumbs run over the hollows and swells as his length moves back and forth over my tongue. I make too much noise when I give head, I’ve decided. The constant slurping, the moans of appreciation. Iama fucking puppy. A greedy one.

My cock tries to swell but can’t. It only aches and makes me ache everywhere. In my underfed state, Silas’s taste is everything. My need for him to fill me with it is fervent and hot.

His abs tense and relax beneath my spread palm, and his thighs intermittently tighten around my shoulders. His panting breaths feed me in a different way. A perfect break in the silence. That and my sloppy sounds as I try to suck himandmy drool at the same time. I hold him deep, my tongue tracing veins and ridges, wrapping itself in circles around his crown before swallowing it again.

“God…oh my fucking God…”

Where’s my filthy lover, I wonder? Probably hiding. Being respectful. I wish he wouldn’t. I wish this didn’t feel different than that last night on the phone where he dirty talked me into a pounding orgasm.

“So close,” he whispers. “So fucking close.”

I go all the way down on him, let saliva spill from the corners of my mouth while I let my throat work his crown over and over again.

He grunts, and it sounds desperate, but then he holds me down by the nape of my neck and his body ripples around me, beneath me. He cries out as his cock pulses in my mouth and cum shoots down my throat. I break past his hold and suck him hard, my lips a firm ring around his length, milking him for more.

He gives me everything as his restless legs wrap around my body and his torso writhes on the gleaming wood floor. He’s gorgeous. Perfect. Mine.

I pull off him, bury my face in the crease of his thigh and sob. Once the dam breaks, every impossible emotion rushes out. His hands are in my hair again, worrying the strands, soothing my scalp. His breaths are shaky at first and then settle into something steadier. When they do, he shifts beneath me and tugs me this way and that until we’re on our sides, and he’s holding me through all the wreckage of what’s left.

His kisses land on my temple, my cheek, my neck. His hands move gently over me, touching what feels like everywhere, and it’s so right. So necessary and smart. Like he knows I’ve had nothing but pats on the shoulder for days, and my body is begging for containment and shelter. Acceptance.

His touch fills me better than any food or drink, and my crying jag ends with a soft whimper and sigh. As though he senses I’ve gotten it all out, he wipes my cheeks and touches his mouth to mine. I open for him immediately, needing the fullness of his kiss along with everything else he’s giving me.

When we pull apart, he says with a soft grin, “You could have seen me sooner, you know?”

I blink at him, adoring him. Worshiping him better than I ever did in all the masses I’ve ever attended. “Thank you for being patient.”

“Graham… Jesus.” He looks at me, all drawn brows, dark eyes and concern. “I’m in love with you. How much more convincing do you need?”

“I don’t know,” I groan, miserably. “Don’t you think you could do better than me?”

“Honestly, no. You probably could, but I’m fucking obsessed with you.” He squeezes my side. “You’re too skinny, though. I made soup. Chicken and dumplings.”

“That’s my favorite.”

“I know,” he says. “That’s why I asked.”

---