Fat Cat Liar

“I wasn’t lying that night when I told you I wanted you more than anything in my life. But now that I’ve had you, I can’t get enough. It’s more than the sex, Greer. The way your body molds to mine, the way you pull me in so fucking deep I can feel you in my goddamn soul. When we’re together, everything in my life is brighter, but when I’m inside you, the connection is so much more. It’s knowing you belong to me.”

I suck in a breath, running my hand up his torso, landing where his heart beats against my palm. This is a side of Lawson I’ve come to love. He can be controlling, bossy, protective, and a tad bit maddening, but when the mood strikes, his heartfelt declarations melt me inside. “I feel it, too.”

“Good, because when a connection runs this deep, I’m not letting it go. You’re stuck with me.”

“You’re stuck with me as well.”

“I’d hope so.” He lowers his mouth to mine, slipping his tongue inside at the same time his finger slides into me.

The spasm returns as my body comes alive with red-hot desire. Unlike earlier this morning when we first woke, he’s in the mood to go slow. He takes his time, bringing me to the brink with his skilled fingers, then slowing enough for the rush to disappear.

He does it again and again until I’m breathless from his kisses and teasing. “I’m going to combust,” I say into his mouth, my insides coiling.

His hand disappears, and I groan at the emptiness until I feel him pushing on his sweat pants and hear a faint rip. He clutches my hips, positioning me over him, then guides me until we’re flush together

I detach our mouths and throw my head back, feeling my inner muscles stretching to adjust to his size and the angle. My hips rock and grind, starting to speed until he grips my hips tighter.

“Slow down, baby.”

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.”

“No,” I moan into the room.

“Look at me, Greer.”

I plop my head forward, almost falling into him until I brace my hands on his chest. He sweeps my hair back, removing his hands from my hips and giving me freedom to move.

“Slow,” he growls.

“No.”

“Fuck,” he spews, surging up and hitting me so deep I feel a jolt in my ribs.

Together, we move in sync, him plunging up as I grind d

own until my legs tremble from tensing. My fingernails dig into his flesh as the coiling starts unraveling.

“Open your eyes,” he soothes, apparently not knowing that my whole body is an inferno about to explode.

I try to open my eyes, but the intensity of his stare sets me off and I scream into the room. He yanks my hair, knifes up to slam his mouth to mine, and growls down my throat, thickening and releasing inside me.

Fighting to breathe, I pull my lips from his and place my head to his throat.

My head spins, spots flashing as I open my eyes and try to focus on the ticking of the vein in his neck. My breathing regulates when his fingers thread through my hair, over and over again until I risk falling asleep.

“Every fucking time. Slow, fast, hard, wet, deep… Every fucking time, you rock me to my bones.”

I nod, because he took the words out of my mouth… if I could speak.

“I hate to break this up, but I need to get this condom off,” he murmurs into my hair.

“I’m not moving,” I declare, wrapping my arms around his shoulders.

“Here we go then.”

He stands, like always, bringing me with him, and takes us to his bathroom, where he sets me on the vanity and pulls out. I watch as he disposes of the condom and moves back to stand in between my legs.