Page 124 of Never Tell Lies

“What did you say this morning about an agreement gotten over a barrel being worthless?” He stepped through the doorway and I backed away. There was nowhere else to run now, nothingin the room but a huge flat screen, a snooker table, and a few other useless forms of entertainment.

“Don’t,” I warned as he stalked towards me.

“Stop me.”

I placed my hands against his chest but he didn’t slow for a second. He walked us backwards until I hit the snooker table. In seconds, he lifted me and dumped me on the billiards cloth. He reached under my dress and ripped my underwear off and before I could react, he’d climbed onto the table, kneed my legs apart, and was looming over me.

I wasn’t sure if he wanted to kiss me or strangle me, and from the look in his eyes, he wasn’t sure either. I could hardly breathe as I gazed up at him, completely captivated. He lowered himself and, keeping his eyes on mine, pressed his crotch up against me. His erection pressed against my core and my toes curled at the sensation. My body called to me to let go but my mind was still holding onto reason. I couldn’t let him do this to me again. He was leaning down to kiss me and I knew that once he did, it would be over. I pushed my hands against his chest, trying to keep some distance between us.

“Alfie—” I meant to sound strong, but my voice came out as a pathetic mewl.

“Tell me to stop one more time, and I’ll stop,” his tone was goading me, daring me to turn him down. “Well? What do you want me to do, baby?” He shifted so his weight rested on one forearm, his body flush with mine. I could barely breathe as his free hand roamed over me. He pressed his forehead to mine. He was giving me no space, no air.

“I…” My words cut away as his hand dipped between my legs.

“What?” His fingers found my clitoris and rubbed oh so lightly. I let out a small, pathetic whimper. He was breaking me down, manipulating my psyche with my own body and, onceagain, I felt helpless to stop it. Yet I could. He’d already told me, all I had to do was say‘Stop.’ But I couldn’t.

“Oh baby, does that feel good?”

I nodded and he chuckled softly as his finger continued its gentle strokes. My heart thrummed in my chest and I felt dizzy, lost in a whirlwind of his creation. I began to panic, overwhelmed by the feeling of being absolutely powerless. I felt like I could cry. It was too much. Everything about him was always too much. I wanted him, but not like this, not when he was trying to get something out of me.

A small sob escaped my throat. I pressed my hands to my eyes to stop any tears escaping. I felt like I’d been flung up into the sky, without gravity, without anything tying me to the earth.

To my surprise, he took his hand away, the pleasure stopped, and I found myself able to breathe again.

“Baby, open your eyes.”

I shook my head and he peeled my hands away from my face. I found his eyes and just like that, I felt tethered to the earth again.

“It’s too much, Alfie,” I breathed, finally finding my voice. “I’m losing my mind. I don’t know what I’m doing any more.”

“Welcome to the club, O’Connell.” He shifted, his erection pressed against me once more, and my breath hitched. Before I could panic again, he cut me off, seeming to read my mind as he so often did.

“I’m not playing with you, Lola. I’m not going to fuck anything out of you. That changed the minute you slammed a door in my face. I just need to be inside you.”

I understood. Being separated, even just by a door, had sparked an anxiety in both of us that needed to be eased. I wrapped my legs around him, inviting him in. He reached between us, undoing his trousers, neither of us interested in taking the time to undress.

“I’ll still be mad at you when this is over.”

“I’m still mad at you now.” He freed himself and sank inside me in one fluid motion. My hips lifted to meet his and that exquisite pleasure that only he could give to me. Just like that, we were level again. He held my gaze as he took me, moving in long, languid strokes. Taking his time, as if reacquainting himself with my body, as if he hadn’t spent most of this morning and last night fucking me.

Time seemed to disappear, the world, my worries, our fight, all of it fell away as I looked up at him. He didn’t kiss me, didn’t pull down my dress to bare my breasts, didn’t say a word. He just fell into my eyes and worked my aching folds in the simplest way. Tears did escape me in the end. I couldn’t help it. I didn’t know I could orgasm and cry at the same time, but Alfie Tell, my Alfie Tell, could make me do anything.

Forty-Three

Here’s what I’ve learned about snooker tables: they’re uncomfortable as hell.

Alfie and I lay on the unforgiving billiards cloth, our chests rising and falling with exhausting rapidity. Sweat beaded along my hairline and the skin of my chest was flushed a blush pink. Our clothes, other than being a little dishevelled–my dress around my waist, his trousers undone–were completely intact. I kept my legs bent and slightly parted, as I was too sore to close them. My core felt like it was on fire and there would be bruises on my inner thighs tomorrow from the pounding of his hips. I felt like I’d been hit by a freight train.

The slow, intimate sex we’d begun with hadn’t remained that way for long. After the first orgasm that Alfie gave to me with such sweet control, he became altered, angry, and I returned in kind. Every piece of pent up frustration from our fight spilled out into our touch; I pulled his hair and he thrust harder. His hand had found my throat and, as he fucked me, he’d looked down at me like he wanted to squeeze harder and steal my breath away. I’d gazed up at him, wide-eyed and wondering if I wanted him to, if I wanted him to take me to that darker place. A small shiverran up my spine at the memory of it. That kind of sex was a whole different game and not one I was sure I wanted to play.

It didn’t seem healthy for Alfie and I to become so lost in each other. Here, lying on this godawful table, we should both be fighting sleep and exhaustion after we’d done nothing but fight and fuck all day, and yet here we were, wide awake, our thoughts deafening and our bodies crying out in unison to be moulded together once more.

We were an intense coupling. Alone we burned, but combined we were fucking nuclear. I knew in the back of my mind it was only going to get worse, and I would probably be the one to break when it did. My heart was softer than his and my conscience shouted louder.

“I wanted to hit you.” His voice startled me but I didn’t turn my head to look at him. Our gazes remained steadfast on the scotch club style ceiling. “When I was inside you, with my hand around your neck. I wanted to hit you.” He sounded almost in shock. I felt the same way. We’d come so close to crossing a line tonight and I didn’t know which of us it frightened more.

“I know.”

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