Page 79 of Sweet Lies

It doesn’t last long—Andre slides next to me a moment later.

“You should talk to her.”

“It’s not your business,” I snap.

His eyes harden, and he moves to stand in front of me, his hands gripping my arms. “I’m getting tired of your attitude. You made your bed, so stop trying to make everyone out to be your enemies when you made your choices. Sometimes I miss the old you, because at least that Bec knew when to apologize.”

“Release me,” I order.

“Make me,” he growls, heat in his eyes.

This is a different dance between us. One that makes my skin hum with anticipation and desire—desire I see reflected in his piercing eyes.

Control. I need to gain control. This thing between us is growing wilder by the moment. His eyes seem to see into every part of my being, and I can tell he wants me as much as I want him.

I see the moment he goes for it. He grips my wrist, and we rush upstairs. The door slams behind us, and he pushes me against the door. My arms wrap around his neck as his lips crash to mine. I nip his lower lip and enjoy his hiss of surprise.

He pulls my shirt off and begins to run his hands over my body. My fingers dig into his back.

“Not going to say we can’t do this?” I ask breathlessly the moment his lips leave mine.

“Not this time. I think we’ve waited long enough.”

I laugh. “Are we on the same page for once?”

He steps back and grins. “Now you want to talk?”

Pulling him back to me, I kiss him as if there’s no tomorrow. “Not in the least.”

His lips move to my neck, sucking, and he pulls me away from the door. The short walk to the bed involves kissing and touching, and clothes litter the ground with each step we take. We fall to the bed, not gracefully as in the movies, and come up laughing. He moves my hair from my eyes with two fingers before kissing me once more, as if I were the most important person in the world.

His touch is addictive, and I crave the feel of him with me wholly. It’s as if all our lives have been leading to this moment. From the longing looks to the fights and debates, both of us have been fighting this, all the while knowing it was inevitable. We were made for each other, and it’s time we faced that. We’ve spent too long trying to fight our feelings. It’s past time just to be.

His lips seem to be everywhere at once, setting fires only he can put out.

I push him to the side, and he mutters a protest, which I ignore. Smiling against his chest, I move down. My nails trace a line where my lips follow. His arms lift above his head, realizing what I’m intending. I feel his heated gaze on the top of my head as I make my way down. Opening my mouth, I take just the tip of his cock in, enjoying the hiss of pleasure I elicit.

Moving up and down, I take a little more each time, gradually getting into a rhythm. Glancing up, I see his eyes have closed. Given that’s he’s always prepared and in control, I take pleasure knowing I’m the only one he can be this free with.

His hand moves to press gently on the top of my head, his fingers twirling pieces of my hair. I sense his control loosening as his body shakes the bed. In a few more moments, he’ll lose all control. It’s up to me how I want this to end. He’s left that up to me. But after all this time, I want to finish this together. I’m burning with desire as I remove my lips, and he opens his eyes to show they’re dark with need.

“Do you have something?” I ask breathlessly.

“In my jeans pocket.”

Nodding, I get out of bed and throw him the pants. “Do you just keep them at the ready?” I ask, laughing.

He grins as he digs. “I knew you couldn’t resist me.”

“Hm. If that’s the case, maybe I should make you wait as you’ve made me,” I threaten weakly as my lips find his.

“Maybe. You’re not half as mean as I am, though,” he mutters, removing the condom from its packet and sliding it on before rolling me to my back, his lips on my neck, then moving down to my breasts.

In one swift move, he enters me, filling me. It’s not painful, but it takes a second to adjust.

Leaning above me, he moves in and out, and his lips return to mine. My nails run over his shoulder blades, enjoying the building of pressure but also craving its release, needing it as my body needs air.

“Remind me again why we’ve not done this more often?” he mutters against my ear before kissing it softly.

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