Crown of Lies

I bit my lip as I inserted my hand into his tight boxer-briefs, never taking my eyes off his face. “I—I want you.”

“Now?” His eyes narrowed then widened as I ran my thumb over his crown.

“Now.”

He rocked up, grabbing my hand with his own and wrapping my fingers tighter, using me for his pleasure. “We do this...we do it my way.” He glanced at the silver watch on his wrist—the same watch he’d noted when he’d told me my two minutes were up with the almost blowjob.

I swallowed. “Fine.”

“Do you trust me?”

The car kept coasting. But my heart slammed to a stop.

That question.

Another man, another time—same four words, identical twelve letters.

My lips parted as I dove into his rich coffee eyes. I wanted to demand why he’d asked that at this exact moment—the same way another had asked before he kissed me.

But I couldn’t. I couldn’t shatter whatever existed in this limousine.

I nodded ever so slowly, pretending hesitation while my mind raced with possibility.

“Yes...”

“Good.” He grunted, tearing my hands away and shoving me off his lap. “Get on all fours.”

“What?” My eyebrows rose. My hair clung to my back, no doubt turning sweat-damp and curly.

“You heard me.” Fisting his cock, he pulled a condom from his pocket, and with jerky control, rolled it down his length.

His throat contracted as every last bit of light disappeared from his face. “Fucking turn around, Elle. You started this. I’ll finish it.”

“I didn’t start it. You kissed me.”

“But then you straddled me and made me forget something very important.”

“What’s important?”

His jaw hardened. “None of your concern. Now, turn around.” He slid off the seat, slamming to his knees. Shoving his trousers to mid-thigh, he twirled his finger in the air, waiting for me to obey and turn.

I didn’t want to face away from him. I didn’t feel safe not being able to see what he was about to do. But at the same time, the idea of being taken so rustic and pure made my breasts tingle and an orgasm already gather in my belly.

Without a word, I kneeled in the long runway of black carpeting with bench seats on either side. I had no support to hold onto as the limo turned corners. I had no way of preventing myself from soaring forward if we crashed.

I gave utter trust to Penn and his control of the situation.

My fingers dug into the rough carpet, already mourning the runs in my sheer pantyhose. No one in the outside world would know what we did even as we stopped at traffic lights and drove past pedestrians carrying their groceries.

I cried out as his hand clamped on my hip, tugging me backward. The tip of his cock found my entrance.

I tensed for him to take me. But he waited, tantalizingly close.

My body rocked back, forcing him inside a fraction.

He growled from behind me. “You have no idea, Elle. No idea.”

Then he thrust.

One fast, all-consuming, unapologetic thrust.

I fell forward onto my elbows. My wrists weak from typing all day, I was unable to brace against his power. His hands latched around my waist, keeping my ass high and driving into me.

I breathed hard, inhaling scents of leather and car freshener, but most of all him. His dark aftershave, his arousal, the rich indescribable scent of Penn.

“I need you,” he snarled, thrusting faster. “I need you so fucking much.”

“So take me then.” My head hung between my shoulders, forgetting everything but where we were joined.

There was no soreness or tenderness. Only the righteous feel of him inside, bruising me in all the right ways. My body fisted around him, already banding with the beginning of a release.

He smacked my thigh. “No, you don’t get to come until I do.” He was breathless, same as me. He was possessed, same as me.

I wouldn’t need to drink tonight.

I was already drunk.

On him.

“Goddammit, Elle.” He pushed forward, driving into me as hard as he could. His torso fell over my back with such a heavy groan it pained and excited me. Everything he did was erotic and wicked.

Reaching between my legs, I grabbed the base of him as he withdrew to thrust back inside me. He was hard as granite; so hot and slippery.

He grunted as I squeezed his balls, rolling them in my fingers until he batted my hand away and entered me with cracking brutality.

My breath caught as I trembled beneath him.

“Lust makes us do the most terrible things.” His teeth latched onto my neck, biting hard, his hips pistoning quick. “I’m going to come so fucking bad.”

I didn’t know if I’d been the one to seduce him, but he’d utterly decimated me.

I whimpered and moaned, feeling too full, too empty, too used, too protected. Polar opposites all at once. My craving increased until I bared my teeth and focused every nerve ending where he penetrated me.

I let go of decorum and placed my hand between my legs, rubbing my clit as I backed up hard into his next thrust. I played his game. I met him fighting. Lust tinged the humid air. Temptation cloaked us with every breath.

And that was the end for both of us.

His hands flexed over my waist.

I dared look back.

He was exquisite, his gorgeous body straining against the binds of his tuxedo. He didn’t look human, just a man intending to mate until death.

His head fell back, his lips tight against secrets he refused to share.