Page 123 of Every Silent Lie
“Because I’ve never been in love before.”
My tracing fingers falter. “Not even with your wife?”
“Definitely not with my wife.”
“Then why did you marry her?”
My face rises when he breathes in. “Because I was really fucking stupid.”
“You never told me what went wrong.”
“Everything.”
“You’re being vague.”
“What do you want to know?”
“Anything that will make me feel less shitty about my heartbreaks.”
He huffs a little, with laughter I think. “I never want to be a heartbreak to you.”
“You might not have a choice,” I murmur, staring across his chest. “We don’t know what the universe has in store for us. We’re at its mercy. Some of us survive the blows, some of us don’t.”
“You’re surviving.”
“My heart beats.”
Dec moves, and I’m suddenly being pulled up his body until I’m splayed the full length of him, my eyes level with his. My arms frame his head, and his palms hold my arse. “I want you to live again.”
I scan his eyes, our noses so close they’re almost touching. His pupils are dilated, but not so much I can’t see the shards of silver glimmering at me. “For you?” I ask on a whisper.
“For Noah,” he whispers back. “Everything, always for him before it’s ever for me, Camryn. You can’t love someone without one day experiencing grief. And you will never grieve someone without having loved them briefly or infinitely. Infinite love means endless grief. But peace will find its way back into your heart again, baby, and the grief will lighten enough for you to live again.”
I’m certain I love him more each time he looks at me, speaks to me, and listens to me. “I’m glad you walked into that bar,” I whisper, placing my fingertip on his lip and dragging it from one side to the other as I watch. “I’m glad you followed me out of there and saved me from the bubbles.”
His small smile is almost sad. “I’m glad you let me save you.” His fingers brush through my hair, and our gazes collide and lock, silence between us falling. But with each wordless second, our breathing becomes more distinct. His eyes sparkle like liquid metal, capturing the dim light with an ethereal gleam. Is he real? Is this real? “Tell me,” he whispers, his voice hoarse, his breath hot on my face.
“I love you.”
He nods mildly and applies a gentle pressure on the back of my head, encouraging my mouth onto his. His soft, moist lips brush lightly over mine, back and forth, slow and measured, in no rush at all. Blood rushes to my head. Life bursts into my tired bones. Dec coaxes my mouth open, plunging his tongue deeply but patiently, and mine soon starts to gently tangle with it. He hums, exploring wide, remaining on his back as I bring my knees up, lifting my hips too, lost in his kiss. I feel his hand come between us, taking himself in his grip, the tip of his arousal skimming me, and I swallow hard, subtly moving my hips, helping him to line up.
And then I slowly sink down onto him, our kiss pausing for a moment while we both exhale with the penetration, my torso hardening as I mould around him. He’s buried to the root, so deep I’m struggling with the fullness. I exhale, controlled, and Dec resumes our kiss, deepening that too, but it’s still so slow. So controlled. With one hand still cupping my head, the other now cupping my arse, he rolls his hips up carefully, and I rest my forearms either side of his head, my hair a veil around us, my hips falling into the rhythm he’s set, and it’s perfect. Perfectly quiet, perfectly slow.
Perfectly us.
He rolls lazily, and I meet every advance, and he doesn’t stop kissing me. My breasts are pressed into his chest, our skin starting to slip as the pressure builds. And yet the pace remains languid and easy, and our mouths remain in perfect control. When his fingers claw into my backside, it’s the first sign that he’s reaching the cusp of pleasure, and then he moans, his lips stilling on mine, his tongue retreating as he suppresses a hiss, quietly gathering himself. My pants are soft against his open mouth, my skin becoming clammy.
“Okay?” I whisper, and he groans, rolling me onto my back, our connection unbroken, and resumes our kiss. Still so controlled and easy, I don’t know how he’s doing it. This could easily get out of hand, become vehement, but he doesn’t want it to be that. Passionate, yes, and it is, but not out of control.
Not fucking.
Dec blindly takes my wrists and places them gently over my head, kissing his way up to my ear. “I’m perfect,” he whispers, gently biting down on my lobe before using my arms as a wedge to prop his torso up and look down at me. And he really looks at me, grinding, retreating, plunging, rolling. I exhale sharply on every advance, breathe in deep on every retreat. I don’t need to tell him I’m reaching the point of no return. I want to bury my face somewhere, clench my eyes closed to deal with the eruption coming, and yet while he’s gazing at me as he makes love to me, fracturing the eye contact is impossible.
My lips part, my back arches. Dec’s nostrils flare, his jaw twitches, his eyes turn wild. And then he jerks, stills for a moment, and pushes deep and high, holding himself inside me as he shudders, and I go with him on a whimper as an upsurge of pleasure hits me and charges through my body like a tsunami, calm but devastating.
Every muscle starts to ache from me tensing to deal with the onslaught, as Dec shakes above me, a sheen of sweat glistening on his top lip, his hair damp and falling onto his forehead. He collapses to one forearm, his head hanging, his throbbing length swelling against my inner walls. He breathes, laboured, and I reach for his back, dragging my fingers lightly up and down his spine, smiling to myself when he quells a growl at the back of his throat and pulls his shoulder blades in. His body comes down to rest on mine, but he doesn’t release his full weight, holding himself with his bent arm, his face going into the crook of my neck. I feel his tongue lick the column of my throat, and I close my eyes, tickling his back, relishing his constant kisses on my neck.
And we stay there, close, sleepy, quiet, for the longest time. Holding each other. Connected. Peaceful. No urge to run out.
