Filthy Lies (Blackstone Dynasty 2)

e of me beyond being the source of a physical release she so desperately needed.

Still, I was at her service as I circled her clit and helped her get closer to it. I couldn't resist playing her body and controlling the delivery of the orgasms. Orgasms—plural. I would give them to her until she couldn't take anymore. The first came on very fast.

Far too fast for my liking.

She convulsed against me. I could feel her mouth working against my neck as she gasped out a few sharp shuddering breaths. Other than those small sounds, she was quiet when she came.

Very much to my liking.

The second orgasm arrived not far behind the first, as I fucked in and out of her with two fingers while working over her slick clit with my thumb.

Absolutely perfectly beautiful in the moment. This moment. All moments. I was so fucking lost to her already.

"Again," I told her. "Take it all."

I curled my fingers up and inward to find the rough patch of skin. From Winter's convulsive moan, I'd found her special spot and stroked her a little faster. I could have her coming for as long as I wanted to this way. The control was completely in my hands. Knowing she wanted me to do this to her?

Like nothing I'd ever known.

Somehow Winter turned everything around on me, and she did it in a split second.

"I love youuuuuu, Jaaaaaames."

She said it in a soft burst with her lips right against my neck as she orgasmed for what had to be the third time.

I heard her.

The words were spoken under the duress of dominant sexual manipulation by me, but they were said regardless.

"I…I…love you…I-love-you-I-love-you-I-love-you-I-love-you-I-love-you-I-love—"

I found her lips and covered them with mine in an openmouthed kiss.

So I could feel the sweetest words coming from her.

And into me.

I left her sleeping in her bed, and it was probably one of the hardest things I'd ever done, and it was only to clean up the mess in her kitchen so she wouldn't see it in the morning.

The cookies were a bigger mess than the blood actually. After putting the round ones into a plastic storage container, I gathered the deformed and broken ones scattered around the top of the stove and the counter and put them on a plate. I ate two of them. They still tasted great despite their odd shapes, as I knew they would. She made awesome cookies, something I'd known—and tasted—for years.

Why was I out here eating cookies after what had just happened in her bedroom?

I didn't know what else to do. If I thought my head was fucked up before, I should probably get a gun and let a bullet take care of my problems. My logical mind told me she wasn't fully aware of what she'd said to me. Winter was injured, exhausted, and medicated, so nothing she'd said could be taken as a conscious statement of truth. This was my lawyer brain speaking to me. My James brain had a different opinion.

My James brain argued that we didn't put thoughts into words if our minds didn't believe them. Winter could only say the things that were already inside her consciousness. She might be out of it, but she'd said and done things tonight that showed her feelings about me went deeper than I'd ever realized.

My James brain was a fucking goddamned asshole for dangling something in front of me that I wanted so badly.

I'd probably do anything to hear her say those three words to me again.

Those words changed everything.

Every-fucking-thing.

I turned off the light in the kitchen and went to check on her one last time.

She had rolled to her side, her long hair wildly strewn over the pillow like dark silk. Her expression looked peaceful now. The earlier tension had left her—finally—and I was grateful. I hated the idea of her suffering and in pain. I leaned over her, close enough to hear her breathing in a steady, calm pattern of in and out. She would get through this and be okay. Thank God, I'd been here to help her.