Page 8 of The Lies You Love
She shakes her head. “Not like that. I can’t get enough. I can’t get enough of you.” Stroking my arms, chest, and abs with a light touch, she’s deep in thought, long lashes batting as she turns her gaze to a new part of my body. “You’re perfect.”
“I’m far from perfect. That must be the alcohol talking, Annie.”
At her name, her gaze locks on mine. There’s a pregnant silence where we marvel at each other. She’s exactly what I need, and I seem to be just what she wants.
“Condoms are in the bedside table.” That statement breaks the haze.
She grabs a gold foil package from the drawer and tears the corner open with her mouth. The scent of latex wafts gently, and I don’t know why some people don’t love the scent. I associate it with fucking, so it’s one of my top three favorite scents on Earth. Annie plays with my heavy balls, fondling them in one hand as she rolls the condom on with the other.
Closing my eyes, I enjoy the moment. “Multitasking at its very best,” I remark. “You might be the best multitasker I’ve ever met.”
“Tell me how you want it,” she says. “Unless you want me to take that over too. Tell me what you want.” There’s a pleading edge to her soulful eyes, and it makes me want to give her anything. Everything. It vanishes just as quickly as it came.
“I just want to kiss you and fuck you until I come. Until we both come.”
Another flare of emotion crosses her face, but she obeys, leaning down to press her mouth against mine. I take her hips, lift them in my hands, and roll so I’m on top of her, between her legs. I deepen the kiss and tease her entrance by jutting my hips so the head of my cock seeps inside her.
Annie lifts her hips, seeking more of me as her tongue presses against my lips—seeking entrance, permission. I press into her and feel every coiled muscle in my body relax for the first time in a month. Finally. The promised land. I fuck her with thirty days of pent-up frustration. With thirty days’ worth of ignoring this base side of my nature. This is release, plain and simple. It’s an escape. Her body, molded to perfection, is a mere vehicle for my pleasure. She’s giving it to me, and I’m taking it. Except when I open my eyes, her gaze holds more. There’s connection and fire. Attraction and desire. A lust-tinged passion that excites me on a new level. I kiss her with my eyes open because I don’t want this moment to die. I want to absorb this chemistry for as long as possible.
“Do you like that,” she cries out, pink lips grazing over my own.
It feels like she’s asking do you like me. “I like it all. Everything,” I say, leaning my forehead on hers to pick up the pace. I taste her breaths and feel her legs hook around my waist to brace her small frame against the pounding. “Too much. So much I’m going to come. Too quickly,” I grind out, trying not to think about how blissful her cunt feels squeezing me, holding on to the head when I nearly slide out.
“Come,” she orders. “I’m about to come, too.”
When she says that, all self-control leaves the building. I let myself think about exactly what I want to think about. Her body, where my dick is, intimate connection with another human, and how mind-numbing it feels to let go. Slamming my eyes shut, I press my lips against hers and release, hot and strong, seated deep inside her.
Annie circles her hips against me once more and comes, gasping against my lips, clutching my biceps. The waves of her pleasure grip me, and everything else disappears. It’s over quicker than I wanted it to be, but when I pull back to read her face, I know she’ll want more. I’ll give it to her.
Holding the base of the condom, I pull out of her and dispose of it in the bathroom trash can. When I return, she’s still on her back, staring at the ceiling doing her best to pretend she didn’t just watch me walk away.
“As far as one-night stands go, that was the best one I’ve ever had,” she says, her pert breasts rising and falling as she continues to catch her breath. “Exceptional sex.” She’s complimenting me, I think, but it also sounds like a science experiment.
I flop down on the bed next to her and rest an arm on her stomach. “The night isn’t over yet. Are you saying you’re a one and done? Ready for sleep?”
She rears back at my statement, brows crinkled. “You think I’m going to sleepover?”
I frown. “You can if you want. Did you think I was going to kick you out of my house and bed when I was finished?”
Annie exhales noisily. “No. I guess not.”
“Guess?” I prompt, lightly dragging my fingers across her flat stomach to create goose bumps. “Tell me how it usually goes.”
“How do you know this is a usual thing for me?”
I clear my throat. Dangerous territory. “I don’t.”
“I do,” she says, smirking. “It’s okay, I’m not going to bite your head off. This is easier for me than the alternative, and I don’t stay the night. Not ever. Just to clear the air there.”
I wince. “What exactly is the alternative?”
“Long, meaningful relationships that end in crippling heartbreak and haunting sorrow. The kind of relationships that screw your future and decimate everything you thought you knew in the past. That’s the alternative.”
Nodding slowly, I say, “Noted. Well, I’m glad you chose me tonight, even if it’s just for the night.”
“Do you want it to be more than a night?” she counters.
“Thing is,” I say, readying my speech. “I work a lot. Six months on, six months off, year-round. You could call my relationship life pretty alternative, too. Do I want you in my bed for more than one night? Hell yes. But I can only have you for a month. Then I’m gone again.”
