Page 179 of Never Tell Lies

She trembled and shook, her warm folds begging me for more, reminding me this wasn’t over. My fingers found her bud and I massaged it with expert precision. It had had so much attention since last night, was so ultra-sensitive now, that she began to jerk as soon as I touched her. I gripped her hard, keeping her still so I could work her body as I wanted. She was so close, I could feel it. She was almost there, almost. She washolding herself back from the precipice, afraid of the intensity of falling again.

“Come, baby.”

“Can’t…”

Can’t?She didn’t have a choice.

Shifting, I placed my hips a little higher, the underside of my shaft massaging her front wall in a far more unavoidable spot. Her moan had an ‘oh shit’ quality to it. She knew she was done for.

I held her as she came, working that bundle of nerves so hard that she forced me out with another burst of fluid. I loved that rush more than she would ever understand.

I licked the exhausted tear that ran down her cheek as she came down. I cupped her heated cunt as she trembled in my arms, her thighs were slick with her own fluids. She leaned into me, limp and languid, but I wasn’t done with her yet, not by a long shot. I slapped her pussy, short and sharp, just to get her attention.

“Come back to me.” I slapped her again, gentler this time, and began lightly patting her clitoris until she began to respond in short, sharp gasps that matched each wet touch on her swollen bud. She pushed back on me, hunting for my cock no matter how exhausted she was.

“That’s it, Lo,” I groaned. I turned her again, laying her back and falling into her once more. I was nowhere close to finished with her, but she pulled me to her mouth and it was time for my own ‘Oh shit’ moan as she kissed me like only she kissed me. Just like that, I lost my control. I poured into her, broken by her lips for the second time.

She was so oblivious to her power. She had taken me apart and was putting me back together to form an entirely new man. I wasn’t Alfie Tell anymore. I was Alfie á la Lo. Alfie 2.0. Alfiereloaded. She could make me do anything. She could make me say…

Make you say what, Tell?Do you really think she wants your fucked up heart at her feet?

I nuzzled her soft breasts, groaning as those rusted barbs whipped me again. She guided me to her nipple and I latched on. She tasted of sunlight and sweat. I hadn’t known someone could taste like sunlight, but she did.

Her hands sank into my hair and I relished her touch.

Where was the sense in my feeling for her? All I knew was that if I could win her it could free me from this guilt-gilded cage I had built for myself. With that at stake I would do anything to win her. I would blast all other men out of her mind. I would erase everything in her head until there was only me. Until my face was the only one she saw, until my name was the only word she knew. She would never find pleasure again without me inside her. I had no choice if I wanted to keep her. If she saw the outside world, she would realise how much better it was for her than me. I had to consume her as she had already consumed me.

Lola O’Connell. Lola O’Connell. Lola O’Connell…

If anyone could absolve me of my sins, it was her.

My salvation.

My Lo.

She held me close, her heartbeat rivalling Vivaldi as she tried to regain her equilibrium. Her hips began to grind against me.

“Alfie, it’s not enough. I need…”

“I know, baby.” It wasn’t over. It never would be. I pushed back in, just to be inside her. Her legs wrapped around me and she claimed my mouth, tethering us together in her own sweet way as we toppled off the edge of insanity together. In her arms, in her mouth, in her plush folds…This was my favourite place on earth.

Sixty-Four

The weekend passed in a blur of insanity. Alfie was a madman, manic in his passion for me. We tore apart the bedroom. The sheets were ripped from the bed, the rug stained with our pleasure, and my wrists still bore the telltale signs of Mr Tell’s tie. The presidential suite of The Carlton Hotel became our love nest, our den of debauchery.

When we grew hungry I ate from his hand and he from mine. We didn’t fall asleep, we passed out, at odd, altering times. I’d wake, confused until his mouth and hands were on me again and I ceased to care what day it was.

I tried, I really did try to break out of it.

The unanswered calls piled up on our phones. There were things I was supposed to be doing, things I was supposed to care about.

By the time Monday came, I felt like a claimed woman.

Sunrise blared through the window and I winced, squeezing my eyes shut against the light. Alfie stirred behind me, his hand cupping my breast in his barely conscious state, as if touching me had become the only instinct he knew.

“Alfie, I think it’s Monday.” I wriggled, trying to halt his hands before they took me too far again. Alfie growled behindme and nuzzled my neck. His hot breath fanned my neck as his arms encircled me, pulling me in as close as possible.

“I have to go, Alfie. I’ve got one week left at work, I need to go in.” He sighed but for once he caved. The king had abandoned his throne for two and a half days. I’d be surprised if his entire empire hadn’t crumbled to the ground.

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