Page 48 of Liars and Liaisons

“Doesn’t matter.”

I lift an expectant brow, and finally, she moves, lowering her knees. Her feet hook beneath my thighs, and she jumps, searching my gaze for signs of distress.

I give none because I don’t fucking care. She could kick me in the balls right now, and I think I might find a way to enjoy the searing pain.

“Are your fingers on your pussy?”

Her eyes widen even more, and she gives a curt jut of her chin.

“I’m going to need you to speak, Little Echo. I want to hear your words.”

“This is wrong,” she rasps.

“Wrong is relative.” This time, it’s me swallowing as I hold up two fingers. “Press these against your clit. Show me what you look like when you’re making yourself feel good.”

Those pouty lips part, just barely, and her breathing grows ragged. Her eyes fall to the water’s surface, and I reach out, using the same fingers to tilt her chin back up.

“Watch me,” I tell her in a dark voice, one I hardly recognize. “If you make yourself come in front of me, I want those eyes on mine. Don’t you dare look anywhere else.”

“Or what?”

My brows arch. I release her chin and reach between us, strumming a ripened nipple with the side of my thumb. “Or I’ll be forced to take matters into my own hands.”

“You said you wouldn’t touch.”

“Fair.” I move back, shoving my hands under the water and then sitting on them to keep from breaking the promise a fourth time. “Can you do me a favor then?”

“Is this not enough?”

It never could be.

“Touchyourself. Not just where I can’t see, but above too. Your body is a fine-tuned instrument, and in order to play it right, you need to utilize each section.”

A shaky breath, and then she slides her free hand up, crossing her chest to pinch one puckered peak between her thumb and forefinger. Beneath the water, my hands curl into themselves, my cock on the verge of exploding.

And we’re not even touching. There’s no contact here besides some semi-innocent rubbing where she sits between my legs, but other than that, nothing is happening. I’m just watching her face, cataloging every sharp inhale so I can play this whole scene out again later tonight in my room.

When I stroke myself this evening, coming into my fist like some thirteen-year-old who’s just discovered porn, I want to remember every piece of what she’s sharing here.

And when I destroy Nate later, I want the memory to be fresh. So it hurts him that much more.

After a few moments, she huffs. Loudly. The elation falls from her face, and she frowns. “It’s not working.”

“Try harder.”

She shoots me a dirty look. “It’s not that. I just… it’s weird with you sitting here.” When I don’t say anything, she drops the hand from her breast and starts to push out of the water. “Look, this was stupid. It’s not going to work, and—”

“Close your eyes.”

Pausing, she narrows them instead, right at me. “You just told me to keep them open.”

Sliding my hands out of the water, I hold them up, palms out in surrender. “That’smything. Doesn’t mean it’s yours. This entire exercise was about your pleasure, your memories. Maybe… maybe what you need is your own fantasy. One I’m not in.”

Truth be told, I just don’t want her to leave right now.

Every morning, I’m plagued by the exact same things. The memories, the haunting noises, the phantoms of my past trying to suffocate me with their invisible hands.

For some reason, when I’m with Violet, all of that sort of disappears. Maybe, like the shadows, their disappearance is only a temporary feat, but still. I can’t deny that in the weeks since I blackmailed her into coming here, things seem to quiet down when she’s around.

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