Page 80 of Addicted Lies

“What are you—” My words cut off when his hands slide around my ass and lift me. My legs wrap around his waist as he carries me to the pantry and closes us in the dark. The only light available is from the small crack at the bottom of the door.

I feel his length pushing against me as his lips waste no time finding mine. I’m overstimulated as he consumes me, my hands bunching in his shirt to pull him closer and deepen the kiss. I feel starved and deprived from all the times he wouldn’t kiss me before. And now he’s eating at my mouth without restraint. And, fuck me, I’ve missed this. I’ve missedus.

I can’t think straight as my body reacts naturally to his, so certain in my desire for him.

He holds me up with one arm as he undoes his trousers, then I feel his cock pushing against my underwear. My hips grind against him, a small whimper crawling up my throat as all my inhibitions fade, and I’m dragged back into a world where he was all I knew, where he was all I wanted.

“You taste so fucking good. You’re my favorite sweet,” he says between kisses, and I believe him. Even if I don’t know what we are or what we will ever become… I believe him. My body trusts him. And it’s just my heart that falters. And that’s what hurts because of how desperately I want this.

Of how desperately I fight against the undeniable need to have it.

To havehim.

I slide my hand into the neck of his shirt and dig my nails into his back as he trails worshipping kisses down my neck.

He lifts me a little higher, and his cock at my entrance, only a scrap of thin fabric keeping him out. He slides my panties to the side, and his lips pause on my neck.

“Have you missed me?” he murmurs.

I don’t reply. Fuck him and his magnificent cock.

“Tell me, Chaos.” His cock is teasing me, the head pressed against me so I can feel him but can’t have him.

I lean back and glare at him, furious that he’s dangling the bait in front of me. I can’t say it. I can’t tell him how much I’ve missed him. It’s not fair to either of us. But all this restraint has been killing me inside every day. And now it’s bubbling over and pouring into me as I rip at his clothes.

“Do you want to hit me?” he asks, and I nod. It’s not sane, and it’s intensely fierce. But I would rather hit the man I love than tell him I miss him. Because that’s our twisted language, and I know it gets him off.

“Hit me,” he orders. I’m hesitant, but he bites my bottom lip, dragging with his teeth. When he releases my lip, he growls, “I like it rough. Now, fucking hit me.” He bites my lip again, harsher this time, and I swear I taste blood. I react, slapping him across the face. A deadly smirk appears as he shoves me forcefully onto his cock.

“Fucking perfect.” He groans as I gasp, trying to adjust to his size. Then he starts moving, and I forget about everything and anything we ever fought about. I can only feel us in this moment. This thing that I’ve begged for and cried over for months now. It’s in the palms of my hands, where it should always be.

“Go on, Chaos, scar me with those fucking perfect nails.” I hold on to him as he pulls our bodies flush with each other and moves me like he’s done so many times before.

But this time, it’s desperate. Unhinged.

Shaking me at my core as we hate, kiss, and torture one another after months of deprivation and frustration.

But why does it feel so good?

I dig my nails into his back, breaking his skin and carving it with my nails. And I know that he fucking loves it. And it’s never felt more right.

“Tell me you missed me,” he pleads.

I can feel myself about to come already. He thrusts in harder, and as I start to cry out, he kisses me again. We’re biting, sucking, and marking as he rips his lips from mine. “Say it!” he demands, gripping my ass painfully tight.

“I-I missed you.” I pant out the confession. I can’t help it. It’s true. And he knows it. I come, and he follows right behind me, jerking inside me, kissing me gently through the aftershocks as if he can’t get enough. He strokes my hair from my face, his tongue dominating mine, as I melt into him, overstimulated by the harshness of his claiming and the gentleness of his kiss.

A kiss that I always had to ask for.

Always demanding that he give me more.

And now he’s giving it to me when we’ve already decided we’re done.

I’m shaking and panting as I shove him, reality setting in that everyone is literally a room over from us.Fuck. We’re out of our goddamn minds. I try to unwrap my legs, but he grips me to him.

“Come home with me tonight.”

“No,” I tell him as my feet touch the floor. Fixing my dress, I don’t even bother looking at him as I open the door and slip out. I need to run away from this situation because I just betrayed my own resolve.

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