Crown of Lies

“Do you like it? Being cooped up all day with no freedom?”

I shrugged. “Who truly loves their work?”

He didn’t reply.

“I get satisfaction from doing a job well done. I like knowing I’ve done something worthwhile.” I looked down. “So yes, I guess I do enjoy it.”

He kept his attention on the buildings, glaring at Belle Elle as if he already knew it owned my life and soul, and that whatever this was, it was nothing compared to contracts and lifetime legacies. “It must be nice to afford expensive things like birthday necklaces.”

I licked my fingers free of my final bite of candy. “Do you know much about jewelry?”

He threw me a caustic look. “I’m not completely ignorant. Just because I’m—” He cut himself off, returning to stare at the cityscape. “I know enough.”

“I’m not saying you didn’t.”

“Just drop it.”

“For your information, I didn’t buy that necklace. It was a gift. I did mention that.”

He tensed. “From a boyfriend?”

“Would it bother you if I said yes?”

He laughed harshly. “Why would it bother me?”

I shook my head, my cheeks pinking in embarrassment. I had no idea why I’d asked or why it hurt so much that he’d found my question funny. “No reason.”

I couldn’t look up. The grass was suddenly incredibly interesting. I plucked a few blades, running them through my fingers.

Out the corner of my eye, I saw him twist slightly, his face hidden. Slowly, his hand came up, his fingers nudging my chin. I didn’t want to look at him, but his pressure gave me no choice.

I let him raise my head. Our eyes locked and breathing became a task I could no longer perform.

“Do you trust me?”

I trembled as his fingers slowly unfurled from guiding my head up to linking around my nape.

I couldn’t speak.

I managed the smallest nod.

His fingers tightened, pulling my face toward his. I sucked in a shallow breath as his gaze dove deeper into mine and his tongue wetted his lips. “I—I won’t hurt you.”

His whisper landed on my mouth just before he pulled me hard.

Our lips connected.

I froze.

The scent of grass and strange male hit my nostrils. The wildness of open skies and midnight made me uninhibited and free. My eyes grew heavy, closing of their own accord as he added pressure to the kiss, tilting my head with his grip behind my neck.

I gave up every control without a thought. My spine turned to water. My insides to steam.

He groaned a little, understanding my submission even when I didn’t.

Scooting closer, his lips parted. The tip of his tongue darted out to test me. Test to see if I trusted him enough to let him kiss me in an empty park. Trust him enough not to go too far or hurt me.

I answered back in the only language I currently knew. My lips opened, my tongue hesitantly touching his with truth. The explosion of chocolate made me moan under my breath as he licked deep inside my mouth.

He didn’t hesitate.

There was no sloppiness or confusion. His hand held me steady, his mouth worked mine, and every part of me flared with drowning, dark desire.

He shifted until his knees nudged mine, his arm wrapping around my waist, deleting the space between us. The awkwardness of sitting on damp grass wrapped in a man I didn’t know didn’t stop the heat of the kiss from escalating.

Our tongues met and retreated.

Our lips slipped and connected.

With every heartbeat, we increased speed and depth until I lost control of the rest of my body and found my fingers in his long dark hair, tugging the lengths, learning the strands weren’t soft like silk but thick and dreadlocked with neglect.

That I was kissing a potentially homeless man didn’t stop me from wanting more. Grabbing a fistful of his hair, I pulled him demandingly into me.

He swayed closer then snapped. He pushed me backward, forcing me to lie down. The moment I was horizontal, he lay down beside me. One leg pressed over mine, his thigh deliberately going between my legs. His body weight pinned me down.

I tried to fight, doing my best to hold on to some resemblance of decency, but the moment he lay half on top of me, wedging our bodies together as if this was exactly what we were born to do—with his erection against my hip, and his arm around my waist, and his tongue in my mouth, and his touch on my neck...I gave in.

I wasn’t afraid.

I wasn’t lost.

Not like I was an hour ago when two men pressed their unwanted pieces of anatomy against me. This man...I wanted him to. This man I didn’t know but shared an intoxicating connection with.

Lights flashed in my eyes as his tongue dove deeper, dragging another moan from every crevice left inside me. I looped my leg around his, arching my hips, pressing against his hardness, feeling myself swell and heat and melt and yearn.

He groaned long and low as our hips fought to get closer. Impatience I’d never felt before suddenly hated denim and zippers and rules.

Nineteen and never been kissed.

I would do it all over again if this was my first true sexual experience. If every firework going off in my eardrums and eyelids was because of him, I would gladly be celibate for the rest of my days to deserve more.

Because of him, I was unhinged and grinding with insanity, giving into madness I’d never understood.

How had my night ended like this?

Where had this spontaneity come from?

This recklessness?