Page 116 of Lana Pecherczyk
Each turn of the wheels brought them closer to the Great Murder. Closer to his past and all its jagged edges.
Blake cupped his face between her palms, her touch anchoring him to the present. She melted against him, her body fitting to his like it belonged.
“It would be my honor,” she whispered, “to be the canvas for your mistakes. Tell me more.”
Chapter
Thirty-Six
Blake watched the change come over River. His face emptied the moment his confession left his lips. His muscles locked beneath her thighs, jaw clenched tight enough to crack teeth. He breathed shallowly through his nose, gaze fixed on a point beyond her shoulder.
“Tell me more,” she urged, threading fingers into his hair.
Slowly, deliberately, she tightened her grip until his pupils dilated and swallowed the blue. When she crossed that edge where pleasure met pain, he gasped. Blake captured that sound with her mouth, pouring everything into the kiss. She used her whole body, whimpers, and moans to tell him what words couldn’t. His hands slid up her bare back, and he kissed her harder in return, teeth clashing with urgency.
She broke away, panting. “Tell me.”
“Sometimes I can’t—” He bit off the words with a self-disparaging frown, but she tugged at his hair and he finished his sentence. “I can’t share what’s bothering me.”
“So your fantasy is…”
“For you to force it out of me.” He yanked down on her already loose strips, baring her breasts with a growl of triumph.
Wicked eyes met hers before he lifted her by the waist, aligning her nipple to his mouth. Hot, wet suction on the sensitive nub wrenched a moan from deep within her throat. Her clit throbbed, heavy with need.
“To be clear,” she panted, fingers digging into his shoulders, “your fantasy is for me to force you to spill your secrets by using sex?”
“Yes.” He came off her breast with a pop and moved to the next one, but Blake had heard enough. She covered his mouth with her hand and pushed him down against the pillow. His eyes flashed with indignation so vivid that she nearly laughed.
“River,” she chided, eyes crinkling. “I think we need a safe word because I choose this fantasy of yours to explore, and I can tell you’ll be a hard nut to crack.”
He muttered an innuendo against her palm and retaliated by pinning her hips, thrusting up hard, grinding his erection into her pussy through their clothes until she whimpered, “You get to choose my fantasy next.”
His fingers dug harder into her hips, but he didn’t wrestle control. After a deep inhale, he nodded. Slowly, she removed her hand from his mouth and reared back.
Fear still lingered in his eyes, but something else glimmered—cautious hope. The moment hung suspended between them, filling with tension until his retreat appeared like a storm over the horizon.
“Oh no, you don’t,” she said, slapping her hand back on his mouth while the other worked at the laces on his pants. Like a woman possessed, she slid her hand beneath the loosened waistband and found his erection. Hot, hard, yet silky soft against her palm. They groaned in unison.
He grunted approval against her hand, and pride flooded her veins. This turned him on. Good. She stroked him, increasingpressure and speed until his eyes clouded with lust. He tried mumbling something against her palm.
“What’s that?” She pulled her hand back.
“Use that dirty mouth on my cock, Sparkles.” His voice dropped to gravel.
“Safe word first.”
His eyes narrowed.
She stopped stroking, let go, and sat back with raised eyebrows. He looked more annoyed with himself than with her. She softened the blow by untying her windway’s laces. Even though he could find his way through the side splits, the show was what he needed.
“Ah, fuck,” he murmured, smoldering eyes dragging down from her breasts and avidly watching her progress. “You’re a cheater.”
Her careless chuckle made her realize something. Here with River, she felt beautiful, desired, and confident. With Jeff, she always felt a layer of anxiety, a need to cover herself after the deed was done, despite the sexy things he said in the heat of the moment.
“My pants come off next if you’re a good birdy,” she teased.
“You win at this game.”
