Stolen Lies (Fates of the Bound 2)

Lila didn’t push him away, even though she found it hard to breathe.

One minute their gazes were set upon one another; the next minute their lips were. He pulled her into his arms, hungrily sucking her lips, a wisp of a thumb trailing down her spine. The light warmth rolled down her back like the ghost of foreplay from lovers past.

She wove her arms around his neck, curling her fingers into his hair.

He sighed from it, jerked his head back, and closed his eyes as though dropping into early morning dreams. “Lila.”

She breathed in her name, the vowels rolling off his tongue. A tongue that darted into her mouth tentatively, a tongue that felt like velvet as it snaked across hers, lighting her taste buds on fire. He’d had a shot of whiskey not too long ago, either for courage or out of habit.

When the smoothness retreated, she returned the favor, sliding her tongue along his lips as she sucked each one in turn. They were soft and silky in her mouth, his stubble prodding against her every exploration.

The contrast delighted her, as did the hardness of his jaw.

Tristan pulled her in tighter, his erect cock poking her in the thigh as he worked at her mouth.

“It’s about time,” Lila whispered once they finally broke away, foreheads still touching, both panting, their hungry lips barely apart.

“You never told me what you wanted. Is this what you want?”

“Not all of it,” Lila said as she sucked at his bottom lip and pushed him toward his closed bedroom door. They’d go further than a nap today. She couldn’t take it anymore. Damn the consequences; she wanted him inside her, needed him inside her. Either to get him out of her system or to get him into it, fully and completely.

“Dixon won’t be back until tomorrow morning. We have plenty of time,” he said when his back hit the door. He nibbled at her neck, fumbling behind himself to find the doorknob.

Lila pulled away. “Wait. That’s why you haven’t touched me?”

Tristan’s head thunked against the door. “I can’t when he’s here. Not after what I did.” Tristan’s cock strained in his trousers, but his eyes had begun to lose their resolve.

His cock would as well if she didn’t stop his brain with a kiss, perhaps more.

“Oh yes, you can,” Lila growled, grasping his erection through the thin fabric of his trousers. She smirked as he jumped and breathed in sharply at her touch, his palms smacking against the bedroom door, his eyes closing in a surprised moan. “Open the damn door,” she demanded, pressing her lips to his before he could second guess himself.

The door opened behind them, and Lila pushed him inside, flicking on the lights.

She closed and locked the door behind her in one fluid motion, kicking off her boots and peeling off her socks. Her tank, trousers, and gloves fell atop them seconds later, her palms still wrapped in a thin layer of gauze. Tristan’s boots hit the grou

nd with two quick thumps, and he fumbled with his belt, staring. When Lila tossed her bra onto her clothes and grabbed the waistband of her panties, he’d barely gotten off his socks.

“You’re covered in bruises. Are you okay to—”

“They look worse than they are. You’re overdressed. Are you shy?”

Tristan shook his head, licking his lips as she kicked off the last of her clothes.

Perhaps it was a good sign that he stared so hungrily, even with her bruises. His eyes snaked down her face, her breasts, her hips, her thighs. Usually the highborn didn’t linger on one another’s bodies; they were usually too busy tonguing them.

Playing was always more fun than staring at the wrapping.

Bored, she padded toward Tristan and unbuckled his belt, then lifted his thin shirt over his head and tossed it on the floor. She let her hands drop around his neck, tracing the broken, tanned skin around his scar before brushing across his shoulders. She moved down his chest and the ridges of his abdomen, each as hard as the erection she’d handled only moments before. “I’m going to lick you here,” she said, letting her finger drift down toward his iliac ridge, which had tempted her earlier.

His hands stiffened at the buttons of his trousers. “Now?”

“Now. Later.” She shrugged, unfastening his pants, yanking them and his boxer briefs down with one tug. They fell to the floor in a puddle, revealing his erect cock at last.

It was the only part of him she hadn’t seen. She grasped the hard velvet, stroking him while she spoke. “I’m going to lick this too,” she said before letting go and shoving him down on the bed.

She crawled atop him, sliding her chest and belly over his, liking the feel of his skin upon hers. It was smooth as silk in places, but he had the hands of a workman as they traveled down her back. Perhaps she would have the same sort of hands when they finally healed.

Gods, it’d been too long since she’d taken a lover inside her. Perhaps too long to take her time.