Page 43 of The Lies We Tell
I run two fingers between her lips, then drag them over her clit. She’s already wet. And I follow them with my tongue. She tastes salty and sweet at the same time. All thoughts of easing her into this escape me. “Tell me if you need me to stop,” I mumble against her pussy.
“Please. Just ...”
I know what she needs. The steady tumble back into her own skin. To set the world back to normal. I used to feel the same way when I returned from duty overseas.
I lick as far inside her as I can reach. I can’t wait to fuck her, but I want her to come first. I suck on her clit, nothing polite or pretty. Just a genuine appreciation for her cunt. Amazing what that thing can do. Maybe bring a life into the world, and definitely bring this man to his knees.
I flick my tongue over her clit and slide a finger deep inside her, followed by another. I drag my fingertips along her inner wall, reaching for the part of her guaranteed to set her world alight.
When I reach it, she arches off the bed. “Saint,” she gasps, and I repeat the action as I suck her clit into my mouth.
Her heels dig into the mattress as she moves against my face.
My teeth clamp down on her clit, and she detonates with a cry.
I try to bring her down gently, but I can’t wait. I grab a condom from the side table and tug it on before positioning myself between her legs. “You still good, Bri?”
Wide eyes look up at me as she nods.
“Fuck,” I groan as I inch into her. Her knees come up by my hips, changing the angle so I slide in more easily until I’m fully seated.
It’s like her body was meant for me. The curves, the way she fits, all of it feels so good, I can barely move. In a controlled detonation, you set everything up and then pray it works the way you want it to. Same with sex. Two people come together and hope there’s magic. Sometimes it disappoints, sometimes it ends too soon, and sometimes it’s simply fine. But other times? It’s everything. It’s as wild and reckless as an unconfined explosion, scorching everything it touches.
I begin to move, and her pussy clutches around me. She’s greedy for more, for another release, and I want to give it to her.
Her hands clutch for something. My back. The sheets. I link my fingers with hers, holding them both gently above her head. The scars on her wrists are healing, and I don’t want to make them worse.
I kiss her softly, feeling the soft gasps as her breath hitches. “You okay, sweetheart?”
I don’t normally ask. Generally, I don’t really care. Not that I’m an asshole. The kind of women I hook up with will tell me if they don’t like what’s going down. But with Briar ...
“Don’t stop,” she begs. And I don’t.
She’s so wet, easing the slide. “God, you feel good,” I gasp.
Our bodies intuitively rise and fall to meet each other. I feel my orgasm building. I put more pressure through my knees, hitting her harder with every stroke. “I need you to come. Come for me.”
“Saint,” she gasps, and frustration laces the word. She wants it as badly as I do.
Man, I try to stall. I think of the report I owe Weicker. But nothing can take away how good this is.
“Please,” Briar shouts, slamming against me as hard as I’m hitting her. “God, yes.”
Then she cries out as her body tenses, as though an electric charge is flowing through it. Even her pussy tightens around me, with fast flutters that clench and release.
And I’m done for.
I let myself go, losing pace as I sink deep into her. Feeling my cock throb in a glorious agony as I ride the high.
My lips meet hers, but it’s barely a kiss. We breathe into each other’s mouths as we ride out the ecstasy.
“So fucking good,” I murmur against her skin. I kiss a trail to where damp hairs curl at the nape of her neck.
I release her wrists and stroke a hand down her body.
And then I realize the shudders aren’t release—they’re sobs.
“Babe. Briar.” I take my weight in my elbows so I can look at her properly. “Shit.” When I see the tears, I reach between us to grip the condom and slide out of her. I should remove it, but my only thought is Briar. “Talk to me, sweetheart. What’s wrong?”
