Beauty in Deception

Unbuckling his belt, he asks, “How do you like it, Evie?”

I focus on his face. “How do I like what?”

“Sex.” He kicks off his shoes, pulls off his socks, and pulls down the zipper of his pants. “Rough? Gentle? Vanilla? Kinky?”

“I don’t know.”

A smile plucks at his lips. “That’s a good answer. It means we can figure it out together.”

He pushes his briefs down with his pants. He’s hard, already. Huge. A tinge of panic bleeds through my chest. I remember how much it hurts.

I really should tell him now, but my words dry up when he walks naked to me.

“Remember what I promised?” he asks, pushing the sleeves of my dress over my arms. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

He’s lied to me before. I have no reason to believe him, but I do.

Pulling the dress away from my stitches, he lowers it gently over my hips. He holds my gaze as he lets it drop around my feet. I grip his shoulders for balance as he goes down on his haunches to remove my shoes. He drags his palms over my calves and up the back of my legs as he straightens. I shiver when he cups my globes. When he dips a hand inside the elastic of the French style panties, I grip his wrist.

“Roman, what are you doing?”

He raises a brow. “Preparing you. Making sure you’re wet.”

I remember that day in the hallway when he made me come without taking off my clothes. I want that again. I want him to finish what he started in the kitchen. I want to be free.

I let his arm go.

He slides his hand deeper, cupping my naked sex. In an instant, he achieves his goal. My body reacts to the touch. When he flicks the pad of his finger over my clit, my folds turn slick.

“Like that,” he says in a husky voice, his eyes gleaming with victory.

He searches my face as he parts me with a finger, reading my reaction in my eyes. This isn’t about him. He’s making it about me. As he promised, he’s making sure I enjoy what he’s doing.

He lowers his head and plants a kiss on the corner of my mouth. “More?”

“If you go slowly.”

“Then ask me.”

Soon, he’ll hate me. I’m not acting, any longer, but I’m still lying to him. It’s wrong, but I want this for myself. I want to have a prettier memory to hold onto. However, I don’t want to use him. I know how much that hurts.

“Do you want this?” he asks, tracing my slit before dipping the tip of one digit inside.

Heat barrels to my core. Closing my eyes, I tip back my head. He catches my nape, supporting me as he draws circles around my clit.

“Do you want this?” he asks again, urgency infusing his tone.

The answer falls easily from my lips. “Yes.”

He accentuates the words. “Then ask me.”

“Please.”

He holds me to him as he sinks his finger inside up to the knuckle. The sudden invasion makes me go on tiptoes. A gasp falls from my lips. What he promised me is happening. I’m begging, and he’s delivering. I lost. Yet I can’t make myself care, not when losing feels this sweet.

“Fuck.” He says the word like a prayer against my lips. “You’re responsive. You were made for my touch.”

Stop it, Christina, before it’s too late.

Already regretting the loss, I say, “If you know the truth about me, you won’t want to touch me.”

All but growling the statement, he says, “There’s nothing that can stop me from having you now.”

I clamp my thighs together. There is something.

“Open for me,” he says, pushing a knee between my legs.

Not having a choice, I make space for him. He pulls his finger out and slides it back in. When he curls the digit inside to stroke a sensitive spot while using the heel of his hand to rub my clit, I come. As my inner muscles clenches around his finger, he spears his free hand through my hair and tilts back my face. Lowering his head, he kisses me through the orgasm. I’m yet to come down from my high when he sets me free and makes quick work of unclasping the bra and removing my underwear.

He takes a moment to look at me, appreciation burning in his eyes as he trails a path over my body with his gaze. I forget to breathe. I forget about everything when he lifts me into his arms and carries me to the bed.

It’s everything my first time wasn’t. He positions me in the center and bends my thigh as he climbs over me. Hooking my leg around his ass, he shows me what he wants. I cling to him, grinding myself on the hardness he presses between my legs while he cups one breast and kisses the other.