Page 6 of The Lies
His long, dark blonde hair is hanging loosely around his face, and his blue eyes are so deep that I swear I could fall in,. I continue down his neck, over his wide shoulders and strong arms. I feel myself getting wetter and wetter the more of him I take in. His body is so different to anyone I’ve been with before. I’m obsessed with the size of it, with his obvious strength. His pecs and stomach are something every woman fantasises about. His skin is stretched tightly over his muscles, creating the most delicious dips and valleys my tongue’s desperate to follow. My eyes trace the lines that descend into his grey boxers before taking in the bulge that sits inches away from my centre. I lick my lips as I continue staring. I know exactly what’s under the fabric and I can’t wait to get my hands—or mouth—on it.
“Addison,” Blake groans as I sit there, looking but not touching. “You’re killing me.”
Leaning forward, I place a simple kiss to his lips. His hand comes up to the back of my head to hold me in place but I move too quickly and kiss across his jaw, then down his neck. His hand continues to tangle in my hair but he lets me move. I kiss across his collarbone, then down between his pecs, before tracing his abs with my tongue. Every time I make contact with him, his muscles bunch and his hips twitch, making me smile to myself. I’m glad his body is as reactive to mine as mine is to his. I drag it out for as long as I can, but when Blake starts whimpering quietly I decide to relieve him and grip the waistband of his boxers before sliding them down his legs and letting his cock spring free. I glance down at it when the glistening tip catches my eye.
“Addison, please,” Blake begs, making me move. I crawl between his legs and take him in my hand. “Yessss,” he hisses in pleasure.
I gently pump him up and down a couple of times while running my thumb over the sensitive tip. My focus remains on his face. He looks stunning with his head resting back against the headboard, his eyes shut, and his lips slightly parted as he absorbs the sensation. He’s gorgeous; I’m pretty sure I’d never get bored looking at him, and I’m even more convinced he’s going to be one of those men who’ll only get better with age as well.
When his eyes flicker open and his dark blue eyes look back at me, I’m prompted to change what I’m doing. Scooting down the bed a little, I get myself settled before lowering my mouth to him. A huge rush of air comes from Blake and I smile around him as he moans when I start licking at him.
As much as I want to make him come, I can’t sit here denying myself any longer, so just before he hits the point of no return, I jump up from the bed, much to his frustration. Well, until I start removing what little clothing I still have on. All argument stops when I drop my bra to the floor.
“Fuck, you’re sexy,” he mutters, staring right at my breasts. I drop my knickers and his eyes follow. “Those fucking curves,” he mutters to himself.
I look down at myself and can’t help but smile. I may have only been here a few weeks, but already my carb intake is having an effect because my curves are returning. I know I need to be careful not to allow them to take over, but for now, I’m embracing my womanly figure.
“Now ride me,” Blake demands once he’s had his fill.
I waste no time in getting myself back on the bed and straddling his wide hips. Thankfully, my legs are long enough so I have a little leverage to make this work. I sit up while he holds his cock ready before I slowly lower down. We both groan as I continue until I’m full. His fingers grip harshly onto my thighs as he tries to control himself, and his eyes stay locked on mine.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“For what?”
“Showing me what was important. Letting me see that I was about to make the worst decision of my life.”
“You’re welcome. Now show me just how good that decision was,” he says as he flexes his hips expertly, hitting that perfect spot inside me.
It’s some time after midnight when we eventually get to the now very cold pizza. Blake offers to warm it up but that would mean him leaving the bedroom, so we both sit naked in his bed, eating cold pizza and drinking warm wine. It’s a million miles from what I was used to in London, but I couldn’t imagine a more perfect evening. When I think of how I could’ve been spending tonight—alone, in a city I hate and crashing in Juliette’s guest room—I smile around the slice I pizza I’m currently working my way down.
“What?” Blake asks when he sees my smile.
“Nothing.”
“You don’t just smile like that for nothing.”
“Fine. It’s you…this…it’s everything.” My words make his smile match mine.
* * *
Something wakes me up. I open my eyes and it takes me a second to remember where I am. It’s then another second before I realise why I’m awake. Blake’s snoring like a fucking freight train. I roll over to look at him. He’s flat on his back with his mouth slightly parted and the duvet resting over his stomach. I appreciate his toned chest for a second or two before he lets out another almighty snore. How the hell’s he sleeping through that?
As I stay where I am, watching him sleep, it makes me realise that I’ve never really experienced a snorer before. Edward might have many flaws, but snoring wasn’t one of them—this is definitely a first for me.
I relax back, close my eyes, and hope that I can fall back to sleep. It’s still dark out so it’s definitely too early to be up on a Sunday morning.
Only a few minutes later, I realise sleep’s hopeless; even after a few shoves to his shoulder in an attempt to make him stop, the snores continue as loud as ever.
Deciding it’s useless, I slide out of bed and leave the room, grabbing my suitcase on the way out.
I make use of Blake’s shower, appreciating the power of the jets of water compared to Aunt Addy’s. I allow it to soothe my slightly sore muscles after all the activity last night. By the time I get out, the entire room is steamed up, so I pull on some jeans and a jumper before running a brush through my hair and attempting to take yesterday’s make up off without an effective mirror.
The sound of Blake’s continued snoring makes me smile when I step onto the landing.
It’s just gone 6 o’clock when I get to the kitchen and check the time on the oven. I put the kettle on and go to make a cup of tea. The only problem is that the canister with the giant ‘T’ on the front is empty. I hunt through the cupboards, hoping I’ll find a new box, but I come up empty handed.
I stand and consider my options. There aren’t many, seeing as it’s sparrow’s fart o’clock on a Sunday morning and all the shops will be shut.
