Page 22 of One Twisted Lie

“Not becauseItold you to be but becauseyou’reletting me. You’re giving me that piece of yourself, and it’s such a powerful thing to do,” he insists, reaching down to squeeze my hand reassuringly. I have no idea how he manages to accomplish it, but I believe him.

“Really?” I ask sheepishly, preening when he runs his fingers up and down my bare arm and presses his forehead against mine.

“Absolutely. I need you to know something.”

“What?”

“I don’t really mean it,” he says, biting his bottom lip nervously, a hint of guilt in his eyes. “I mean, you’re not my favorite person, but I don’t actually want to make you feel like shit. Not anymore, at least.”

I flush and try to tell my dick to calm the fuck down because I have absolutely no issues with the way we fuck. “I like it.”

I like it when he’s rough. Even though it makes me feel weak afterward, in the moment it makes me feel free. I love that he takes control. I love when he degrades me. I can’t tell you where it comes from, but I can tell you I don’t want it to stop.

“I know but…” He scratches the back of his neck as he gestures to his computer. “I’ve been doing some research—”

“That doesn’t surprise me.”

“I haven’t been fair to you,” he states, squeezing my arm like an apology. “After what we do, I’m supposed to comfort and take care of you.”

I wrinkle my nose in confusion. “Oh, I don’t need that.”

“You do,” he says. “Maybe I do too.”

“What does that look like?”

Would he be sweet and gentle? Would he hold me close to his chest and run his fingers through my hair? Would I get some kisses—not violent or messy—but something affectionate and warm?

There’s something interesting about imagining him peppering my face with kisses—my chin, my cheek, my forehead—while he praises me and tells me how good I am. There’s a yearning I feel to lay my head on his chest and listen to his heartbeat.

I freak out a bit because I’m not too sure where these feelings came from. It’s just sex. I’m strong enough to not need aftercare. It’s not required. It’s too intimate, too special, too touching.

But I don’t say that.

“Let me show you,” he says, dragging my body closer until it’s pressed against him while he ghosts his lips over my neck. “Get your pants off.”

Even though my body is all for it, my mind wins out. “You’re sick.”

I say that, but when he reaches into my sweats to grip my length, squeezing out precum and giving me a harsh tug, I feel my willpower vanish. “You can ride me, princess.”

Well, that’s new. Every time we’ve had sex, we’ve done it from behind. I really haven’t minded. It’s not like we need to see each other when we fuck, but I have to admit I am excited to mix it up just a bit.

I nod and roll him over until he’s on his back and I’m hovering over him. I tug down his pants until I unleash his cock, and I don’t hesitate to swoop down and run my tongue all the way from the base to the tip, taking a second to bury my nose in the thick thatch of dark hair.

“So good,” he mumbles, petting the back of my head as I press kisses against his length. “The lube is on the floor.”

I nod, eager to get him inside me. I reach for the lube and wriggle out of my pants at lightning speed. “I…um, condom?”

“Do you want to try it without, princess? I haven’t been with anyone else.”

I nod frantically, opening the lube and pouring some in my hand. I don’t take much time prepping myself, making my ass sting when I go three at a time in one go, but I’m impatient. I slather him with a generous amount of lube and position myself above him. And, without any preamble, I take him all at once. I throw my head back, planting my hands on his chest as I feel him expand and hit that special spot inside me.

Oh, I like this. I like this a lot.

I start to ride him in earnest, not giving myself any time to warm up, and I find that the burn is even sweeter from up here. Carter seems to like it too because his face is morphed into nothing but pleasure, flushed cheeks, and an open mouth. “There you go. My little slut. My dirty princess. You like my cock in your ass.”

I nod, bouncing on his dick. “Yes.”

“Tell me what you want. If I wasn’t sick, what would you want?”

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