Page 99 of The Lies of Bryn van Doren

Khalohn takes hold of her wrist, pulling her hand away from his mouth before he demands, “Eyes on me, precious.”

She obeys immediately, wrapping both arms around his neck as she continues to roll her hips. He can feel her desperation growing, like she can’t get close enough.

“I love you,” she declares as her body begins to tremble. “Oh, god—Khalohn.”

Wanting to see her topple over the edge, he slides a hand between them, pressing his thumb against her slick, swollen clit. The instant he makes contact, he loses her eyes as she surrenders to her pleasure. Khalohn frees his own groan, the feel of her sex constricting around his too good for words.

When she comes down from her orgasm, he takes hold of her hips and pulls her from over his stiff penis. He settles her on her back with ease, finding his way between her legs before he submerges himself fully into her core. She gasps, arching her spine, her nails digging into the small of his back as she holds on tight.

Fuck, I adore her.

Having had enough of their slow pace, he thrusts in and out of her hard and fast, his eyes locked on hers the whole time. Every moan and whimper that passes from her lips sends a rush of desire down his spine. He’s so aroused, his shaft so hard, there’s only one way this will end.

He can feel himself losing control as his own growing sense of desperation takes over. He loses his rhythm, slamming into her as deep as he can manage. Then her strangled sob hits his ears a second before she comes again, and he can’t hold back a moment more. The groan which claws its way out of him originates so far down inside his chest, he barely recognizes the sound. His orgasm hits so fiercely, he can’t see straight; and he comes so hard and long, his whole body trembles from the exertion.

Khalohn collapses on top of her, burying his face in her neck as he tries to catch his breath. They stay like this until he finds the strength to shove an arm beneath her, taking her with him as he rolls onto his back. Jessica lets out a deep exhale as she rests her head against his shoulder, and Khalohn turns until his lips are touching her forehead.

He closes his eyes, his memory taking him back a year. He remembers telling her—There are no promises here. Now, that couldn’t be further from the truth.

He wholeheartedly believes he doesn’t deserve her. She’s so genuine, the light inside of her so precious, it still amazes him how they found each other. A year ago, when he finally metJessica—when the lie of Bryn van Doren was shattered—he knew then how loyal she could be. But the loyalty she exposed him to, the faithfulness others had earned from her—it’s nothing compared to the experience of being on the receiving end of her devotion to him. Her loyalty runs so deep, it’s impossible not to return.

It took him a while to catch on to the fact that his devotion to her is the root of his love. Khalohn told her there were no promises between them because he didn’t know if he could fall in love again. Now he knows he wasn’t wrong to doubt what’s possible. The truth is, he doesn’t love her like he loved Hollie. His desire to marry her doesn’t feel comparable to what he felt the first time around—not simply because they’re different women, but because the love he has for her only exists because she’shis Jess. She’s the only woman who could convince him, without asking, bargaining or negotiating, that she’s worth promising the world.

In his arms is the most incredible woman he’s ever loved, and he’s never letting go.

“Never going to let you go,” he murmurs, his lips grazing her warm skin.

Lifting her head, she waits for him to find her eyes before she whispers, “Promise?”

“I promise.”

She responds with a kiss and then rests her head back on his shoulder, freeing a contented sigh. Silence settles around them until she asks, “I guess it’s time to give this place up, huh?”

Reaching up to run his fingers through her hair, he stares at the ceiling above them, picturing all the ways in which she’s made the loft her home. Since the night she moved in, they’ve spent most nights together. More times than not, they find themselves on the Upper East Side during the week and in Tribeca over the weekend. When he’s traveling for work, he knows she’s at the loft, even though she has full access to the penthouse. She prefers what she considerstheirspace over his—but there are amenities the loft lacks that he’s decided he doesn’t want to live without.

“Precious, you want to settle in Lower Manhattan, we will. We both work on this end, and I can sell the penthouse.”

He feels it when her body goes stiff on top of his. “Really?”

“If it’s what you want.”

This time, she props herself up against him—folding her arms across his chest as she stares down at his face. His hand falls away from her hair, but he merely circles his arms around her instead.

“Are you saying—are you saying you’ll give up the penthouse for the loft?”

“No, Jess. I’m saying, if you don’t want to move into the penthouse on the Upper East Side, we’ll find one we like down here.”

Her eyes light up as she fights a smile, and it makes him want to kiss her. Before he gets a chance, she guesses, “A penthouse…with a pool?”

“You know there are few things in life I’d rather not give up.”

“A private pool and me,” she says, speaking through a grin.

“Not in that order.”

Jessica touches her lips to his. “Can we start looking this weekend?”

“Yes.”

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