Page 36 of The Lies of Bryn van Doren

When Godrik pulls away for a second time, Jessica’s heart pounds in her chest as the extent of her confusion begins to sink in. Her mind is caught between her instincts to fight or to fly. She can admit what she’s about to do is unnatural and wrong. She also can’t deny the verity of her situation. She could have been given to anyone who might have done ungodly things to her—who might not have promised with an intentional kiss that she would survive the night unscathed. Knowing such a truth fills her with a sense of obligation.

Fight,she whispers in her mind.Fight the doubt and don’t run. Let him have what he wants. Let him have Bryn.

Forcing her body to comply, Jessica leans into Godrik, silently granting him permission to take as much as he’s paid for. Instead of touching her further, he lets her go and takes a step back. Before she can question him, he walks around her, toward the bed. A perplexed frown tugs at her brow and each corner of her mouth as she watches him toss the decorative pillows onto the floor before pulling back the covers, revealing a set of royal blue, silk sheets.

Meticulous.

When he’s finished, he turns toward her and instructs, “Get in.”

Khalohn takes pleasure simply watching her as she makes her way toward him before slipping out of her heels and climbing onto the bed. He can still taste a hint of her on his lips, but he tries not to think of it, lest he lose hold of the short leash he has on his patience. He hadn’t meant to kiss her. He rarely feels the need to do such a thing. He’s always considered it an intimate gesture meant only for the moments so ravaged with greed, it could be disguised as desperation. Nevertheless, he can’t take back what has already happened. If he’s being honest with himself, he doesn’t want to, either. His touch had the desired effect, even if it did come with the consequence of wanting more.

Bryn crawls just out of reach onto the mattress, settling herself on her knees. She looks to him for further instruction, and he requires no extra time to ponder before he tells her, “Lie down.”

She does as she’s told, resting her head on one of the two pillows he left on the bed. He watches her, all the while unconsciously making the decision to not unfasten the buttons of his shirt or to loosen the buckle of his belt. He merely unties his shoes and discards them before crawling onto the bed with her.

Bryn’s breath quickens as he straddles her legs with his own, his body hovering over hers. Intrinsically aware there’s only one acceptable way to begin, he brings his mouth to her ear and whispers, “Relax.” He then begins to pepper kisses down the length of her neck, across her collarbone, and between her small, pert breasts. Despite his gentle command, as he drags his mouth across the smooth plane of her flat stomach, Bryn’s chest heaves with labored breaths.

Intent on ensuring he only takes what is desired, he pauses to look up at her from where he’s settled in between her legs. Without taking his eyes off her face, he reaches down with his right hand and glides his fingers up the inside of her left leg. The sound that escapes her lips when he presses two fingers against her panties at her center is indecipherable. Fully immersed in his quest for noises the opposite of ambiguous, he slowly pulls her panties to the side and finds the bundle of nerves he intends to use to coax her arousal. To his surprise, she needs little encouragement. The next sigh that graces his ears is accompanied by the act of her legs falling open for him.

Her sigh—almost too quiet for his own ears—travels straight to his groin. As his length begins to harden, filling up what little space remains in his slacks, he loses his grip on his patience. Remorselessly, he chases his pleasure by way of hers, pressing her legs open further as he makes room for his mouth.

A few minutes later, when she comes on his tongue, the sound she makes is so soft, so beautiful, so uncontrived, it halts him. Barely lifting his head, he glances up at Bryn’s face, and the breathless expression she wears almost knocks the wind out of him. Her cheeks are pink, and her eyes are filled with an awe which seems to mirror his own. Except, instead of the triumphant feeling he was after, Khalohn is now certain that while he could take from her until she has nothing left, he has glimpsed the depth of her value. While he thought he understood he’d been given a woman with whom he should take his time, he finds he has been presented with a choice. He can stay or he can go.

It takes him only a moment to accept that if he stays, he will stay all night—and that is a choice he cannot afford,timea commodity he cannot earn back. Another night, however, is an option far more affordable. With this in mind, he drops his gaze down to her exposed center. He doesn’t think twice about leaning down to kiss her there. His lips barely graze her slick, swollen skin—a promise masquerading as a tease. Easing her panties to right, he then presses a soft kiss on the inside of her thigh and climbs out of the bed. With his back turned to her, he adjusts himself in his pants and then reaches for his shoes.

Jessica sits up, her heart racing as she watches him. She can barely think straight, the memory of his mouth so poignant, even as she closes her knees, she imagines she can still feel his wet tongue, his hot breath, his soft beard.

Oh, my god,she thinks with a shake of her head. A blush rushes to her cheeks, and she seals her eyes closed tight. A small voice in the back of her mind shouts to be heard, warning her that for the second time, the man she’s supposed to have sex with is leaving. Except, rather than take his own pleasure, he has done the exact opposite. The warning in her mind is difficult to hear through the lingering fog of euphoria clouding her thoughts.

Never has she experienced oral stimulation as gentle and intentional the likes of which Godrik Morgan is capable. It was as if his sole purpose was to make her melt into the mattress, until her only option was to surrender to the feeling of his touch.

Hearing the click of his shoes against the floor, heading toward the door, Jessica is brought back to the present. She gasps, feeling both confused and panicked in equal measure.

“Wait,” she calls out as Godrik reaches for his key.

He says nothing in reply but merely turns to glance back at her.

For a second, she doesn’t know what to say. His silence unnerves her, and his quick departure fills her with doubt. The memory of his affection fades a little, cowering as she draws her knees up, curling her body into the smallest version of herself. It takes her another second to find her voice in order to match words with the feelings that seem to be robbing her of the lingering effects of her pleasure.

“Is—is there something wrong? Something wrong with…me?”

“Not in the slightest,” he assures her.

He leaves without another word, but she manages to breathe a sigh of relief.

If she hadn’t been looking into his eyes, she would have missed it—his beard hiding the slight movement at the corner of his lips. But she hadn’t missed it. She saw what could only be described as the merciful—almosttender—expression soften those perfectly blue eyes.

Not in the slightest.

Dropping her chin to her knees, she frees a quiet laugh, recognizing the moment can be punctuated with no other sound.

I just made another eight grand—and all I had to do was come.

After her laughter dissipates, the silence she’s left with sends a chill down her spine. Her gaze takes in the details of the extravagant room, and the relief she felt moments ago wanes. For a second, she feels lost between the realm ofreal lifeand an incredibly bizarredream. The silken sheets beneath her, the dark blue walls with gold trim around her, the beautiful preserved, antique furniture, the chandelier hanging from the ornate ceiling in the middle of the room—it doesn’t feel real. She closes her eyes and turns her head, until it’s her cheek resting atop her knees. In the darkness behind her eyelids, she can feel Godrik’s mouth between her legs. Another chill runs down her spine, this time for entirely different reasons. She furrows her brow as she holds hers legs tighter.

Was that real?

It’s over. Two nights. That’s what she promised Stefano. That’s what she promisedherself. Now that it’s over, the whole experience seems too good to be true. Too fanciful to bereal. She seals her eyes closed harder as she considers the sacrifice she’s made. She’s earned sixteen thousand dollars. She offered up her body, and the man who bought it took nothing. Instead, hegaveso much. Rather than guilt, she finds herself grappling withcuriosityanddesire.

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