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Cruel Lies (Lies 4)

Page 50

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With my wrists still in his fists, he dips his head down to the v of my dress. His teeth sink into the fabric, and then he pulls down—hard.

The fabric starts to fray, then rips in half as his teeth continue their assault on my dress. He continues downward until the dress is split in two, and my body is displayed in front of him in nothing but my white thong panties between us.

I yank my arms free before fleeing the bedroom. The bedroom is too personal, too sweet, too romantic. It’s the opposite of who we are and what we can be.

Langston doesn’t chase me. He walks slowly and deliberately after me, knowing that I want to get caught; I just don’t want to fuck in the bedroom.

I glance around the living room, trying to come up with a way to have the upper hand when it comes to Langston. We’ve fucked before, and it was always incredible, but how long can that last? How long can I give myself up to him before I lose myself? Before the raging panic returns, as will the nightmares of my past?

Langston catches the fear in my eyes—so much fear mixed with want. It’s a cataclysmic combination.

It only makes him move slower as I scan the room for a plan. I have nothing. All I can do is fight or surrender, and I’m not one to surrender.

Langston removes his shirt, baring all of his glorious muscles to me before he puts his hands in the pockets of his pants and stands still, watching me.

I let my dress fall to the floor before putting my hands on my hips, mirroring his action.

We both breathe slowly; our eyes grazing each other’s burning flesh.

“You’re mine,” Langston says in a deep, controlling voice.

“Then, come and get me.”

I bite my bottom lip.

He moves.

I move.

One step.

Two steps.

And then we both attack. Both grapple for control of the other.

I grab his pants, needing them off his body, needing him as vulnerable as I feel.

I yank them down his legs as he grabs me once again in his arms and slams me back until I knock the lamp off the small table behind me.

I shove him hard, until his back crashes against the full-length mirror behind him. The glass shatters, no doubt some slicing into his back.

His eyes twinkle with arousal.

I reach between us, finding his cock beneath his boxers. I want to wrap my lips around him. I want to suck him so well that he’ll never want another woman sucking his dick ever again.

He smirks and cups my chin. “You don’t have to worry, huntress. I’m yours.”

He once again reads my thoughts.

Then he slams me back toward the couch. We end up knocking the TV off the wall as we stomp by.

I keep squeezing his cock. He ravishes my mouth with his.

And then, all at once, he releases me until I fall back on the couch with him standing over me.

“Spread your legs.”

I throw them closed, purposefully defying him and loving the thrill it brings me when he seethes and bosses me around.



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