Page 11 of Lovely Deceit

He comes down to me, dropping a kiss to my forehead. “Stop showing me a life I can have and then dangling it in front of me with your recklessness. I will fight for it.”

With those words, he captures my lips again, denying me my surprise, but driving the point home with the powerful sweep of his lips. He starts to move his hips in a steady rhythm, losing himself in the moment.

He’s made his argument. I understand it. But there’s nothing I can do about it right now.

I run my fingers through his brown hair, bringing him closer and closer. My kisses are an apology. I can’t be who he wants me to be right now. I did all that running away before and it ended in tragedy. That might be my fate this time around, too, but at least I’ll be prouder of myself if I stand my ground.

He jackhammers his hips, his cock sliding into me in a delicious way. I build and build until a rush of pleasure sweeps me away. “I love you,” I whisper in his ear. He follows quickly after, filling me with all his promises.

He slumps down over me, pressing his lips to my neck. “You can’t do that to me,” he says.

I trace my fingers down his spine. “Do what?”

“Say what I’ve wanted you to say for so long and expect me to hold myself from coming inside you like I’m a prepubescent slug.” He kisses a trail around my neck to my other ear. “I love you too, Eden Astor.”

The way his accent rolls over the words sends shivers down my spine. I’ve always loved Oliver as a friend. He says he knew us being together was inevitable, but it wasn’t like that for me. I was scared I’d lose something that’s so precious to me. I close my eyes, swallowing. What the Knights did to me was awful, but I guess they could have picked other things that would’ve been just as bad. What if Oliver was the one strung up, being toyed with?

I cling to him a little tighter. I guess more things frighten me than I realized.

“Your grandmother won’t be happy,” I tease, like we don’t have the weight of the world on our shoulders right now. “She’ll want you to be with a nice British girl.”

He pulls away and gets that look in his eyes that he always does when we’re alone and talking about his family. The fact that they don’t claim him hurts. He’s never said as much, but since he’s always claiming he can read me like a book, I can read him, too.

“Forgive me for not giving a fuck,” he smirks. “I’ve finally made you see reason and fall head over heels in love with me. I get to be inside this”—he angles forward, and though he’s not hard anymore, the movement makes me take in a sharp breath—”captivating pussy.”

“Captivating?”

“Too much?”

I shrug. “You can call it whatever you want as long as you keep making me come all over you.”

His blue eyes flash. He closes them momentarily, and when he opens them again, the spark of mischief is gone. “You’re trying to change the subject from what really matters.”

“I’m pretty sure you started kissing me first.”

“I’m pretty sure you were begging for it.”

“I’m pretty sure you like fucking me so much that I could convince you to go another round right now.”

His lips peel into a smile. “You’re something else.”

“I’msomething else? You’re—”

He silences me with a kiss, his tongue pressing against my lips until I open for him and he takes whatever he wants. Unbelievably, he stiffens once more, and the playful dry humping turns into him thrusting inside me. “What about the pizza?”

“Fuck the pizza. We can afford more.”

He smiles, moving slow and steady. “I knew you only wanted me for my money.”

I bark a laugh at that, but it quickly turns into a moan when he pitches his hips just right. God, I can’t believe I was denying myself Oliver’s dick this entire time.

I run my hands through his hair. “We’re not going to screw this up, right?”

A low growl emanates from his throat. “Haven’t you realized it yet, Edie? I’ll die fighting for us.”

The way his body moves over mine, the way he watches me as he brings me to new heights, it’s as if I’ve suddenly been overpowered with a love spell. He kisses my breasts and massages my clit until I’m begging for release. If I could, I’d flip him on his back and take control, but the stupid boot blocks me. Not that Oliver needs any help.

The slow, controlled way he takes his time exploring undoes me. I’ve always loved a quick fuck—the quicker, the hotter. But there’s something to be said about the slow and steady and how sensual it is, especially in the arms of someone who knows your body inside and out.

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