Page 29 of Little Liar
Her mouth is open, her back arching, her little gasps and cries making me squeeze my dick hard enough to hurt. I refuse to come yet. I want her lips around my dick or her fingers replacing my own.
She’s staring at me through her orgasm, sinking her teeth into her lip, her inner voice tormenting her, probably giving her shitfor her position and the way I’m so fucking close to being on top of her.
Each breath is forced out of me—I could die right now, and I’d be borderline happy about it.
“Do you still want to taste me?” she pants.
Is she delusional? Why would I say no?
I nod because I’m not a fucking idiot who would ever turn down that offer. My heart ricochets all over my ribcage as she lifts her fingers to my mouth, and I pause as she rubs them across my lips.
Whatever drug is still in my system could never come close to the hit I’m getting right now. I grab her wrist and take her fingers into my mouth—licking, sucking, biting—her taste exploding on my tongue as my dick fucking begs for her warmth. Anything I can get from her is more than enough.
I inwardly groan, my eyes closing, my free hand hardly able to move around my dick from the sensations running through my veins. Too sensitive. Too fucking much.
As soon as her fingers vanish, I’m on her. She stops me with a hand over my mouth before I can kiss her. “No,” she gasps, her eyes wide. “We didn’t agree to that!”
I frown, because she’s saying these words, yet I can see all over her face how much she wants me to keep going. I can feel the way her body is beneath mine, how hard my dick is stabbing into her thigh. I snatch her wrist, removing her hand from my mouth and taking her jaw. My mouth lowers to hers a second time, and something deep inside my hollow chest, my fucking black heart, snaps in two when she dodges my kiss by moving her head sideways.
“No, Malachi.”
She’s fucking with my head.
She’s… killing me.
I get up, figuring out what I want to say but not knowing how to explain it—she’s hurt me. She’s making me feel shit I can’t control, and I don’t like it.
I hate myself for not being able to just tell her how I feel and why we should be together. Rather than running away, like I want to, I lift my hands to sign, but she obliterates every ounce of my confidence by turning around.
“Let’s just go to sleep,” she says, bathing us in black by turning off the flashlight above us. “We’re obviously not thinking straight.”
In an instant, because rage and pain and sadness win over every emotion, I turn it back on and snatch her throat, feeling her pulse fucking racing until I squeeze. Her lungs will start to struggle. Her eyes will go wide and red and bloodshot. Her lips will turn blue. Then she’ll grow cold. Unseeing. Unblinking. No air passing her lips. No more love to throw out to everyone except the brother who would literally die for her.
Realization washes over me that Olivia is struggling. My Olivia. My girl. My sister. I let go of her, and she’s shaking, trying to clear her throat quietly after a few seconds of strangulation.
Don’t silence me like that. Don’t ever fucking silence me, Olivia.
How dare she look confused? How fucking dare she, not even a minute after breaking me?
“I… I didn’t.”
I gesture to the flashlight.I can’t fucking talk to you if you can’t see me.
How ridiculous is this? Why can’t I be normal? Why?
“Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I did that. Just… We can’t kiss—it’s not what siblings do. Regardless of what just happened. Please don’t make this awkward.”
I’m giving myself internal whiplash. Running is all I can think about. Vanishing from this shit. But I grab her hair and pull her to me, closer, but not close enough. Never close enough.
Never.
You used to always kiss me.
“When we were kids, and the kisses were innocent. You… We… No, Malachi.”
No? You just— I stop, defeated. My chest hurts.
“Mom has me going on dates with guys for me to marry them, Malachi. I can’t chance being caught kissing you.”
