Page 86 of Liars and Liaisons

When my ass meets his thighs, a groan rumbles through his chest. I exhale, tilting my hips to get used to the sensation. It’s so unlike anything I’ve ever felt—a great pressure, accompanied by ripples of euphoria, vibrating through my insides.

“I’m glad I didn’t forget this,” I say in a soft voice. It’s as close to forgiveness as I’ll give him for now.

As if sensing that, the only answer he gives me is a small grin. Then, he turns, bending me backward over the piano. The keys cut into my skin as he lifts up, holding me tight as he begins thrusting hard up into me. The instrument scoots across the floor with the brutality of his hips, and I cry out to God when we come, just like he said I would.

29

What goes up must come down—orwhatever that law of physics says.

I don’t know. I didn’t pay much attention to science in school. It seemed useless at the time, but in the days after I stake my official claim on Violet, I can’t stop thinking about that age-old principle. My time is spent fucking her into oblivion, watching her drift off to sleep in my bed, and sneaking off to work on a portfolio to send to the dean back at NEAA.

Ian’s contacted me a handful of times since his visit, letting me know that if I don’t return to the university soon, it’s possible they’ll put my position up for grabs. Or worse, since composition is an expendable course of study there, remove it entirely.

It would devastate me for that to happen. Not just for the blow to my career, but also to the gap it would leave on students’ academic programs. The class might be expendable to the board of directors and dean, but it’s not one easily substituted because of the advanced theory and writing consideration I bring to the classroom.

Losing the course would be shitting on Sydney’s memory. Everything that’s happened since her death would be for naught, and that’d be the worst punishment of all.

I’m not ready to return to the public. Not ready to subject myself to the speculation again or the anxiety that being the center of attention has come to give me. But I will at least go down fighting, so I pour my heart into new compositions each night, certain that everything sucks but attempting to find joy in its existence regardless.

Nate left the estate last week, though not before making it clear that he’d be back. For Violet, if nothing else. The last party I threw seems to have really done a number on him; my mother called a couple of days ago, asking if he’d taken anything there because, evidently, he’s been raging in the city, destroying public property over minor inconveniences.

My only suspicion is that he’s losing it over Violet, though even Priya said he seemed different last week. Like a caged beast searching for a way out of its prison.

Either way, I don’t give a shit. After what he did to her, he can rot, and I’ll happily watch while balls deep in his ex-girlfriend.

Like now, as I press myself against her hot little slit, notching the head of my cock inside an inch. She’s on her knees, turned horizontally on my bed, with her round ass in the air. I run my palm over one pale cheek, squeezing until she rocks back, taking me an inch deeper, then two, and then I’m halfway buried inside her.

“Hottest little pussy around,” I groan, pleasure thrumming through me like the aftershocks of an earthquake.

It’s so hard to keep myself from prematurely coming every time I get inside her, and I’m not sure if that’s normal or if I need to see a doctor, but I’m choosing not to question it. The sooner I come, the sooner I can fuck her a second time, then a third, until she’s sore and raw and I’m leaking out of her.

She reaches behind her, gripping her ass with both hands. The gesture spreads her wide, giving me an even better view of her silken, sopping flesh. I lean forward, letting saliva pool from my lips to her asshole, then use my thumb to massage the little hole, pushing in justbarelyas I begin to fuck her.

I promised I’d take her there one day. She didn’t seem opposed to the idea, which excites me. For someone with no prior experience, she is willing to learn, especially when it comes to her own pleasure. Which makes her the best kind of student.

My free hand glides slowly up her sweat-slicked back, grabbing her two braids in my fist and tugging, like the reins on a horse. She can’t really come up with her face buried in the mattress, but she lets out a ragged moan as I pull harder, matching my thrusts with gyrations of her own.

“Grayson,” she whimpers, pulsing around me.

“What is it, dirty girl? Does it feel good when I fuck you?”

“Yes,” she cries, her hands falling from her ass to grapple in the bedsheets. “You feel so good, fucking my pussy with your big, hard cock.”

“Such filthy words from such a sweet girl. You should be careful how you speak; someone might get the wrong idea and think all you want is to be used.”

“Just by you,” she pants, and I can tell she’s barely hanging on to sanity right now as she spasms, white-knuckling the sheets. “No one else can make me feel this good. Please,pleasemake me come. You do such a good job, baby, and I need it so bad.”

Baby?Christ. I don’t know why her praise is so important to me, but her enthusiasm renews my efforts as fire rushes through my veins. There’s nothing I want more in this world than to please this woman.

I curse under my breath, releasing her hair to land a series of harsh smacks against one ass cheek. My cock jerks as I increase my pace, my balls slapping her ass with each stroke. She’s so hot, so wet and tight, that I can barely breathe.

If I thought sex might cure my obsession, I was horribly wrong. It’s only made my addiction that much worse. Like the first hit after years of being sober—the one that inevitably kills you.

“Fuck,” I grit through my teeth, impending release sizzling the length of my spine. “I need to come, dirty girl.”

A gasp, and she tries to lift her head, but ends up failing and turning it to the side. “Oh, yes. Please.”

God, I love her begging. So sweet and perfect.

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