Page 8 of Professional Liar
I decided to try honesty. It was probably about to backfire in my face, but I had plenty of booze to take away the ache when she left. “You aren’t capable of giving yourself to anyone. If we got married, I’d spend our entire lives handing myself over to you, and you’d spend it crushing every bit of me I’m stupid enough to release.”
She jerked back and blinked a few times, the light catching the wetness on her lashes. When she dropped her chin, I thought for a second she might cry, but her voice greeted me clear and cold. “I’ve never been good at giving myself to anyone, because there has never been anyone worth it. I saw what marriage did to my mother and the kind of disgusting man my father turned into. I vowed I’d never put myself in that position. When I finally settled down, it would be with my equal. The only person worthy enough to stand beside me.”
My heart thumped against my ribcage like a rogue pitching machine trapped behind a batting cage fence line. Was she telling me she thought I was worthy enough, or did I want to grasp onto the compliment because it was the only kind thing she’d really ever said to me outside of sex?
“What does that mean?” I settled on asking, instead of trying to wrangle her words into their proper meaning.
She shrugged, that little tilt of her shoulder which always set me off. I didn’t know if she did it deliberately, or she had no idea how much I wanted to roll her over the bed and fuck her until I gave her something to care about.
I hurled my sweatpants back to the floor, stalked toward the bed, and leaned down to brace my fists beside her thighs so I could look into her eyes. She didn’t fear me, nothing sparked there but curiosity, arousal, and a superiority complex she’d probably never shake.
“What are you going to do?” she challenged.
I latched my hands under her knees and jerked her forward so she fell back on the bed. Then I rolled her on her belly and ran my hands over her ass cheeks. A man could dream about an ass like this.
I reached under the bed for the box of condoms I kept there, tossed one on the mussed coverlet, and grabbed my dick while I stared at her ass. “I’m going to fuck you until you can’t think straight enough to play games. Then we can have a real conversation.”
She snorted, and I swatted her ass hard enough to leave a pink handprint. The moan she stifled in the sheets told me she needed more of that.
“If you want to leave, this is your one and only chance.” I told her. She didn’t get up or tell me no, so I grabbed her thighs and pulled her up onto hands and knees from the back.
Once I slid the condom on, I dragged my fingers across her pussy. Oh, she was still dripping for me.
“Any last words?” I joked as I aligned the head of my cock with her opening. I said the words to lighten the moment, each felt heavy, thick in my gut. As much as my body wanted her, my brain and heart tried to remind me why it was a bad idea.
She squirmed back into me and said, “Yeah, stop talking and get to it.”
I gave her another slap, pushed the doubts away, and slid inside her. She sucked in a loud breath as I held my own, acclimating to the hot hold of her body.
Once my nerve endings settled enough, I clutched tight around her hip bones and took up a brutal pace, pounding into her as much as she pushed back into me. The slap of skin on skin. The warm, molten core of her gripping me, and the breathy sighs she gave me every few seconds were enough to test even my stubborn resolve.
I needed to push her to the edge, force her to open up to me in the only way I’d ever been able.
I continued my assault, flexing my fingers every so often as to not hurt her. She wouldn’t care, but I would.
A drop of sweat rolled down the center of my chest, and she dropped her upper body to the bed, pressing her arms and cheeks and face to the sheets.
I knew she was close to coming as her legs began to quiver and her pussy started to grab me tighter. I slowed a little, gaining more control over myself, and denying her the end her body screamed for.
“Tell me you like that,” I said loud enough she could hear me over the slap of her ass against me.
It took her a minute to find words. “I like it. Please, Pierce, stop teasing me.”
I reached one hand over her thigh between her legs to find her clit and slowed my pace further, barely pushing in and out of her now. “I haven’t even begun to tease you yet.” I circled her clit with my fingers and marveled as her back flexed and she shifted her grip on the gray linen.
She would always be so perfect like this. Completely herself. No pretense, no games, no lies. Right here, when I shoved inside her, I could see the real Kat. Every other version, I could never be sure.
“Say my name again,” I panted, moving faster again.
She whispered it, dark and breathless. “Pierce.”
And her body took over. Her thighs quaked against my own, her tight little box gripped me harder, and I knew she’d gone over the edge. The second her fingers released the sheets, I took my hand off her clit, clutched her hips tight again, and dragged her body into mine.
The spark of her orgasm ignited mine, and I fucked her until there was nothing left of me. I’d surrendered everything. She’d just never opted to take it home.
My heart hammered in my chest, and I held on tight as the last of my orgasm pulsed through me. She let out a breathy sigh and collapsed her legs flat to the bed. I followed her down and rolled over next to her.
Sweat pooled at my temples, and I watched a tear of it glide down the beautiful arc of her back and disappear in the dark. I stripped off the condom, tossed it in the trash, and scooted closer on the bed.
