Fated Lies (Lies 3)

He grabs my pants and yanks them off until I’m lying naked in front of him.

There’s a part of me that wants him to become the alpha male inside him that he brings out when he’s with other wom

en. And then there’s a part of me that wants his sweetness and obedience to my orders.

“Stop thinking so much,” he whispers.

I rake my bottom lip through my teeth. “I’m trying, but I need you to promise me something first. Don’t lie to me tonight. Not with your words and definitely not with your body. If there is one thing I need most of all, it’s for us to be completely honest. If you hate fucking me, tell me.”

He frowns. “First, it’s not possible for me to hate fucking you. But I know what you mean—I won’t lie, not to you, not now.”

“I won’t lie either.”

He slowly inches himself over my body until his strong body is hovering over mine, not touching. I stare at his arms that must be aching.

“I won’t lie, but I’m not going to be sweet and let you make the decisions. Your brain is on overdrive thinking too much right now.” He takes my hand and kisses my palm. “Can you handle me taking control?”

A million sparks fly through my hand where he kisses me. “For now. I’ll let you know when I want it back.”

“You’re something else.”

“Kiss me,” I say, bossing him around.

He leans down to kiss me but misses my lips purposefully and landing on the corner of my mouth.

I moan, needing him to kiss me properly. Needing him to press his body against mine. Needing so much and not sure if I’m going to get it tonight.

He takes his time kissing each corner of my mouth, then each side of my neck until I’m squirming beneath him. Only then does he kiss my lips. By then, any doubts or thoughts have disappeared.

His kisses are hungry and wild, not as controlled as I know he likes them to be—it seems he’s letting go too.

Neither of us needs to be in control. We just need to let our bodies and souls take over.

Our eyes meet and seem to agree. His body presses down gently on top of mine. Our bodies fit perfectly, as if we were designed for each other.

His cock presses down on my lower stomach as his mouth reconnects with mine. His hand finds my breast as mine trails down his back. And then, as if we both decide at the exact same time, we flip. I’m on top; he’s beneath me.

I claw at his chest and rub up against his cock, using him to get myself wetter before he enters me. His hands massage my breasts, flicking his thumbs across my sensitive nipples.

“You’re drenched,” Langston says with a smug smile.

I am—I’m so ready for him. I’ve been ready for him for years.

I lean down and kiss him as he bucks up against me.

Then, at the same time, we freeze.

“Condom?” I ask.

He frowns. “Any chance you think our cabin friend has one?”

I crawl up the bed, reluctantly letting go of Langston to dig into the drawer of the rugged-looking nightstand. I find cigarettes, a lighter, and a small bottle of rum, but no condoms.

I look around the room and see the door is open to the bathroom.

“Be right back,” I run into the bathroom. I check every drawer and cabinet, but I find none.

I sigh, as I grip the counter.