Page 129 of Tangled In Lies

Getting into the bedroom is a team effort, but neither one of us seems willing to let go, so we manage.

The second the door is closed behind us, all bets are off.

After Phoenix left earlier, I changed into a T-shirt and yoga pants, and Phoenix rids me of both, plus my bra and panties, in less than thirty seconds.

“I need you.” His mouth is back on mine, his fingers trailing down my body until they disappear between my thighs. “Fuck, you’re so wet.”

He enters me, pumping in and out. Circling his slick fingers over my clit.

I throw my head back on a moan, slightly wobbling on my feet.

This man can make me forget my name, even though it seems like he’s the one who’s trying to forget something. But I’m okay with that, for now. I can, or rather, Iwantto be that escape for him, the person who takes him to a place where he can forget, where nothing but the two of us exists.

Without warning, he drops to his knees, and hooks one of my legs over his shoulder. His fingers sink into my butt cheeks to draw me toward his mouth. I only have a split second to sink my hands into his hair and to hold on for dear life.

Apparently, Phoenix is on a mission to kill me.

He doesn’t just devour my pussy, he’s going for utter destruction, holding me so close to him, I’m not even sure how he can breathe. When he sucks on my clit, then bites it and tongue-fucks me, I’m getting genuinely worried I might not survive this impending orgasm.

“Phoenix . . . Phoenix, I’m going to . . . oh my God, I can’t.”

Coherent thoughts leave my brain, my senses completely overwhelmed by the way his fingers dig into my butt, or how one of his fingers keeps circling my hole. The noises he makes are almost animalistic, and the scent of him, of us, permeates the air. My fingers tangle deeper into his soft hair, and I gazedown at him.

The sight of Phoenix on his knees in front of me is utterly mesmerizing, like I’m his queen, and he’d do anything for me.

Black dots send my vision hazy. He continues to lap at me like he can’t get enough but always stops when I’m right at the edge.

“Don’t you dare come until I’m inside you.”

“Phoenix, please.”

My moans turn into whimpers, and he finally takes pity on me. He slowly gets me back on my feet and sweeps me into his arms, not wasting a second—kissing me, laying me out on the bed, tearing off his clothes, grabbing my hips to flip me over onto my stomach, hauling me to the edge of the bed, and sinking into me with one big thrust.

“Fuuuuuuck.” His groan is loud, etched with the same pain that shone in his eyes earlier.

As usual, he’s my undoing, and my orgasm hits me with the power of a cracking lightning bolt.

His bandage grazes my hips, but I’m too far gone to worry about it right now. This, he, feels too good.

Every thrust hits home, his thighs slapping against mine, his balls creating extra friction. He moves one of his hands to my butt crack and circles my hole once more. It puckers, the anticipation, the forbidden aspect of whether he will do anything more, sending a zap straight to my clit.

“Come again for me.”

Smack.

The slap to my butt is so unexpected, I freeze momentarily and then let out a long moan. The memory of what we shared in his office comes back to me, of howhard he made me come, how much I enjoyed that experience with him, even though I shouldn’t have.

Things have changed so much between us since that moment, and now—just as then—he knows exactly what my body needs, maybe even better than I do.

Asmacklands on my other cheek, and my eyes roll back.

“Look how well you take me, Angel. Your pussy was made for me.” His breathing is labored, his movements frantic. “Fuck, come on my cock like the good girl you are. Now.”

The last word comes out in a growl just as he brings his hands down on my ass cheeks again.

Smack.

Smack.

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