Page 18 of Liar's Heart
He crosses his tattooed arms over his bare chest, holding my gaze. “I'd rather be wherever you are. My wife doesn't travel alone.”
A chill runs down my spine from the possessive heat in his voice. His wife. Me. “I can handle myself just fine, thank you. I'm a big girl. I don't need an escort.”
He doesn't budge. “Nevertheless.”
This time, I don't even try to hide my irritation. Stepping around him, I march to the throwing target he has set up in the far corner. Not traditional gym equipment by any means, but knives are Ender's weapon of choice, so I wasn't surprised when I found it here. Truth be told, I’ve been wondering if I’d ever get a chance to show off this particular party trick. I free the three throwing knives lodged in the target and pace out to the correct distance. Making sure Ender’s watching, I release all three in rapid-fire succession and watch as they form a perfect horizontal line across the target, the middle one firmly in the bullseye. Naturally. Turning back to my husband, I say, “Like I said, I don't need an escort.”
Ender's only response is a low hum. I turn on my heel and leave since this conversation is clearly over. Just before the door shuts behind me, Roman’s deep chuckle fills the air as he tells his best friend, “You’re so fucked.”
Tearing through the halls, I don't stop until I've made it back to our room and shut myself into the bathroom. I need to calm down before I jump back into that argument with Ender… or just jump Ender. I can't fucking think with how badly my pussy is throbbing right now. If I was worked up before, arguing with him only made the situation worse. God, the look on his face when I drove my point home after nailing that target was enough to make my knees wobble. Like he didn’t know if he wanted to fight me or fuck me more and had mostly settled on doing both at the same time.
Starting the shower, I let the water warm up while I strip out of my sports bra and leggings and take my hair down before closing myself into the stall. I step under the spray, letting the heat soothe my aching muscles while I lather up my body and rinse as quickly as possible. The second I can call myself clean, I plant my back against the wall, letting out a sigh when the cool tile touches my overheated skin. My hand dives, cupping my pussy and holding pressure for a heartbeat, sending all of my nerves firing at the promise of finally finding some relief.
A finger dances along either side of my slit, easing my sensitive flesh into the contact before dipping inside my opening. I swirl my fingers, gathering slickness to coat my throbbing clit. I'm so fucking wet that it only takes a few passes before I've thoroughly covered everywhere I need to be touched. My fingers trap my clit between them, slowly increasing the pressure at the base of that stiff knot of nerves until I can't hold back the low moan that escapes from my lips. When I can't take it anymore, I let go and slowly circle my swollen clit with a single finger, tightening the diameter with each pass. With my eyes closed, my head tips back in rapture as the tide of pleasure rises. The current tugs me further out to sea, and I can't help but think of the one who threatened to drown me just like this… can't help but moan his name while I let my imagination have its wicked way with him.
I’m so wrapped up in my fantasies that I’ve failed to notice I’m no longer alone. The shower door opens, and I yelp, barely catching myself before I slip and fall. Ender enters the shower, a rapacious gleam in his eyes as he stalks toward me, completely naked.
His slutty pajama pants did him every bit of justice, itseems. He's thick, with a wicked curve meant to scrape every tender place inside me. Ruddy skin stretches along the swollen organ, culminating in a wide, flared head already glistening with a bead of arousal at the slit. Like every other part of him, he’s breathtaking.
“Not quite the begging I had in mind,” he growls, “but… desperate times, I suppose. And I’m at my fucking limit with you. Parading around in those tight little leggings downstairs? Showing off how perfect you are for me, then pushing me away? Baby, that was cruel.”
He doesn’t stop until he’s right in front of me, then leans in, a hand on either side of my head against the wall, caging me in just like he did before he kissed me. His cock juts out between us, narrowly missing my stomach. I can feel the heat emanating from it and see the flushed tip bob as he moves.
That lupine smile unveils itself again.My, what sharp teeth you have. The better to bite me with.The better to consume me whole.“You're a clever little fox. I'll give you that. Survival instinct's high and so fucking smart. But you shouldn't test my patience if you’re not prepared for the consequences of finding its limit.”
I open my mouth to protest, but he cuts me off with a sharp look. “Don't lie to me and tell me you weren't. Don't stand there and tell me you're hiding in here with your fingers stuffed up your cunt, moaning my name, for any other reason than you want me, and for some goddamn reason, you won't put either of us out of our misery.”
My mouth shuts. I have no response to that because it's the truth. Idowant him more than I’ve wanted anyone in a very long time. But I can’t trust him, not with any part of me. What if the only way I can bear to give him any of me is by cracking open his sternum and seeing with my own eyes just how true his heart is, just how honest?
This war keeps raging inside of my own heart, an exhausting cycle of want and need and rage and grief andsweetness and desire and care. And while my head says he's the enemy, my heart knows the truth of him after spending the last month watching him from such a close distance. Staring into those molten pools of silver, it's clear which part of me will win this battle today. I swallow down my trepidation and whisper, “Okay.”
He blinks, turning the word over in his mind, before repeating it back to me as a question. “Okay?”
I lick my lips, then worry the bottom one between my teeth for a moment before nodding. “Okay. I won’t lie to you. Iwastesting your limits and should’ve anticipated you’d eventually push back. And”—I inhale, hoping my courage doesn’t fail me now—“I was touching myself. Thinking of you.” My chin lifts a little more, defiant to the end, as I confess, “I do want you. And pushing you away has done nothing to dampen that. Maybe it's time to put down the sword.”
Eyes going wide at my confession, he straightens, stepping into me as he drops a hand to cup the side of my neck. We’re close enough now that the peaked tips of my breasts are rubbing up and down against his chest with every breath. Close enough now that the velvety skin along the underside of his cock is burning into my stomach like a brand. Everywhere we touch feels raw, the protective layers that keep me safe and contained disintegrating by the second.
He brings his face within scant inches of my own, swallowing my exhales as they part from me, covetous for even my spent breath. Then he whispers the question at the crux of it all: “You want me?”
Damn him. And damn me, too, for how right it feels to breathe the word “Yes” into the space between us as I close the distance, sealing my confession into his lips with my own.
Ender inhales sharply, rocking back with the force of our collision before recovering and driving me back against the wall. The hand that was on my neck now cradles the base ofmy skull, fingers winding through my sodden hair, while the other finds the small of my back to pull me into him. He licks at the seam of my mouth, seeking permission, and I whine as I open for him and let him take what he needs. His tongue slides along my own, and I shiver in pleasure as his hand slides down to cup my ass. He growls, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he rocks my hips into him, seeking friction while ravaging my mouth. Our kiss grows frenzied until he pulls away, gasping, using his grip on my hair to keep me at bay. “Please, Merrick,” he rasps. “Please let me touch you.”
I smile, licking the taste of him from my lips. “I thought you were going to makemebeg?”
A wild, wicked grin lights up his face. “I said you’ll beg me to fuck you, not touch you. And you will. Today, if you let me near that hot little cunt you’ve kept under lock and key.”
I’m squirming, trying to find any sort of friction between my thighs. “What about you? Do I get to touch you back?”
His eyes soften, as well as his grip, as he says, “You’ve always been allowed to touch me, Merrick. I’ve been waiting for you to want to.”
I can’t even begin to process how that statement bands around my chest and squeezes. Deciding words would fail me anyway, I nod my head and step into my husband’s arms, pressing myself into his slick, hard chest.
For a moment, all he does is wrap his arms around me and hold me close. The breath he releases sounds like relief and gratitude intertwined. He kisses the top of my head before pulling away from me. The back of his hand gently trails down the side of my face, tracing the curve of my cheek and jaw. Searching my eyes and making sure I’m still in this moment with him, he says, “Then let’s find out what makes you beg, Mrs. Sinclair.”
Ender backsus up to the built-in bench, then sits down and guides me into his lap, trapping his cock against my ass. One arm wraps around my waist, pulling me against his chest. The other sweeps my wet hair away from my neck and over my shoulder. His mouth comes to my ear, making me squirm when he asks, “When was the last time you came, baby?”
I hesitate, but I’m only delaying the inevitable. “Our wedding night.”
