Page 49 of Mischievous Lies

“I’m getting there,” I lie breathlessly.

“Really?” The guy going down on me perks up, surprised.

“Sure,” I say, forcing his head back down. What the fuck is actually happening? I came here to make a point to Hawke, so why can’t I keep my eyes off of him?

“She likes it when you nudge your finger into her asshole,” Hawke comments. “Do you know how to find that… The hole?”

“What the fuck, man?” the guy says, throwing his hands in the air. I growl, irritated, tossing my head against the mattress. This is fucking pointless.

“I’m going soft,” Hawke admits quietly as he looks down, disappointed.

The woman pulls away from his cock. “Rude. Fuck this. Whatever you two have happening between you is weird,” she says and steps away from him.

I feel rather smug that he can’t get off with her, but the reality is the guy between my legs is fucking awful, and I’m staring at the cock I really want.

“How long are you going to be a brat?” Hawke asks as he leans back casually on a shoulder. “Should I give him more pointers?”

“You know what, fuck this. I don’t need this either,” the guy says. “Look, you’re hot and all, but this isn’t my thing. You two need to leave.”

“We’re not fucking leaving,” Hawke barks, splaying across the bed like some fucking God. Yet his expression radiates imminent death.

The guy is flabbergasted as he tries to force a semblance of manliness, which is the worst thing one could do with Hawke. “This isourroom.”

“Do you fucking own it? No, my boss does. Now, you have ten seconds to leave before I stomp on that pinprick dick of yours. You’re just fucking lucky that I blessed you with an opportunity to look at my woman’s cunt tonight.”

“Hawke!” I snap. He’s a fucking menace. The man pales, grabbing for his clothes, his girlfriend quick behind him as they run out into the hallway.

I sigh as I stare up at the ceiling, shaking my head.What am I doing?The only way I was getting off in any way was when I was watching Hawke. This is all just a mess.

“Does Eli really own this hotel?” I ask, frustrated by my needs not being met. If anything, I feel dirty with the promise of such a shitty lay.

“Yes.” The bed dips beside me from his weight. I’m so mad, but I don’t think it all has to do with Hawke. I just… It suddenlydoesn’t feel nice thinking that I’m another number to him, which is ridiculous because that’s how I’ve always treated men myself.

“Lover, stop pouting. He was four inches too small to please you anyway,” he says as he reaches his hand out to my cheek.

I slap his hand away. “I had no issues getting off before you came onto the scene.”

He smirks, and I realize I fed his ego far too much. And even that wasn’t the truth. Men were often disappointing in the bedroom. I just forgot how bad it was because I’d been fucking Hawke.

“I’m sorry.” His apology surprises me. “I didn’t want you to know about the other stuff. I didn’t want to worry you.”

“Worry me?” I ask as I come up on my elbows. “I can handle myself, Hawke.”

His dark eyes stare into my soul uncomfortably as he asks, “But is it so bad to be looked after?”

I’m still furious, but as my gaze roams down his impeccable muscles and tattoos, I can’t help but trail a finger over one. It draws goose bumps to the surface, and I feel the heat and electricity between my thighs. Everything about this man sparks me to life.

Hawke is a simple man by nature. What you see is what you get. And I know a part of me twisted the narrative. I know that, and yet I can’t entirely interpret the hurt. Maybe there’s more to me and Hawke that I’m not willing to admit. Or maybe I’m starting to depend on him too much.

“Lover,” he growls. “You better do something about Hawke Junior if you keep touching me like that.”

I roll my eyes, trying to hold back the chuckle as I try to cling to my anger. I am still angry. But it’s Hawke…

“I still can’t believe you call your dick that.”

He chuckles as he leans over and kisses me. It’s slow and sensual, a very different pace to what I’ve felt with him before.His hand comes up with a towel as he wipes at my pussy. “I’m not tasting some other man on you.”

“You better take that condom off because I’m not tasting some other woman’s lips on you either,” I tell him, realizing that just like that, my pussy is speaking for itself, and logic is losing control of the situation.

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