Page 87 of Liars and Liaisons

“Tell me where you want it.”

There’s a brief pause, a moment of hesitation. I wonder if she’s about to switch it up on me, go from good girl to brat, but then she squeezes around my cock and gives me a deviant grin over one shoulder.

“In my pussy. I want you to fill me up.”

I shudder, a delicious chill making its way across my skin. “Who taught you to speak like that?”

She glances up at me through hooded eyes. “You said it was instinctual. I’m a very fast learner.”

Settling my hands on top of her hips, I lean into them, pinning her firmly in place. I’m almost perpendicular with her now, and my thrusts become longer,deeper, until I’m fucking her so hard that I think she might actually break in half.

Her ass jiggles with each brutal plunge, one cheek pinkened with my handprint, and the strangled noises she makes are a fucking symphony to me.

She jolts, her pussy clamping down around my cock so quickly that she lets out a scream the pillows don’t catch. It echoes off the vaulted ceiling, reverberating deep in my chest as I chase her over the cliff of ecstasy, giving one last pump before unloading as deep in her as I can get.

Sweat drips off my forehead onto her spine, and I slump forward, still buried to the hilt as the last drops of my cum empty inside her. A flash of white-hot electricity temporarily steals my vision as the base of my spine erupts with rapture, and I lose the ability to hold myself up.

She grunts as I flatten out on top of her, the sound of our labored breathing loud in my bedroom.

As I withdraw slowly, a haggard sound claws its way from my chest. I sit back for a second, watching my cum trickle out from between her puffy pink lips, and then I lean down and flatten my tongue against her glistening pussy.

Flinching, she tries to wiggle away, but I palm her ass in my hands and keep her in place.

“Want to eat you for the rest of my life,” I mutter against her, savoring the sweet tang of her juices mixed with the evidence of mine. “Don’t care what shape you’re in. Prefer you like this actually. A mess, all because of me.”

She whimpers, lifting her hips to grant me better access. “Right there,” she huffs, reaching up to rub her clit with three fingers. “Fuck. Yes.More.”

“Give me another,” I say, spearing my tongue into her filthy little slit. My fingers have a bruising grip on her, but neither of us cares. “Come right on my fucking face. I want to be dripping with you the same way you are with me.”

As if on command, she explodes, her hips undulating with a fervor that makes my dick stir again, seeking another round even though I know I’ll regret it soon.

You’re not eighteen anymore, I remind myself, which is why, in the past, I’d never have sought out a woman eleven years my junior.

But the rules of my past self no longer apply. Not where she’s concerned and definitely not with my family.

When I finally let her up, she skips off to the bathroom to pee, and I follow a few minutes later to clean us up. She watches me from where I have her perched on the vanity, and I know she’s staring at the scabbed cuts on my chest, my neck.

Her guilt is almost palpable.

“My father once beat me so bad that my mother thought I was dead.”

Violet frowns, eyes seeking mine.

I don’t meet them as I drag the washcloth between her legs. “I was ten. One of the baby goats got out of the barn mid-winter, so I went to corral it before it could freeze to death. But I was supposed to be rehearsing. I was auditioning for a classical piano program in France that weekend, and my father believed in practicing until we bled. Instead, when he found me ‘fucking around,’ he took that matter into his own hands.”

She sucks in a tiny gasp of disbelief.

“My mother found me outside in the snow. He’d taken his cane, with this solid gold top, to my back so many times that he fractured a couple of ribs and nearly a disc. She said she’d never seen so much red—didn’t realize snow could soak up so much. The warmth from my blood even melted some of it around me.”

“Grayson,” she whispers, hands finding my chest. “You don’t have to—”

Sighing, I clench my jaw at the memory and toss the washcloth into a hamper behind me. “The goat I had gone looking for stayed through it all. When I was in so much pain that I couldn’t see, after my father left me, the only thing that kept me conscious was the little goat’s warm tongue on my face. That’s how I held on.”

Tears well up in her eyes, and I cup her cheeks, tilting her head back.

“I’m not telling you this so you feel sorry for me. My father will get his. I just don’t want you to feel bad about what you did to me. Nothing you ever do physically will touch what I’ve already endured.”

“I hurt you—”

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