Cruel Lies - Ella Miles Page 0,40

me. He walks slowly and deliberately after me, knowing that I want to get caught; I just don’t want to fuck in the bedroom.

I glance around the living room, trying to come up with a way to have the upper hand when it comes to Langston. We’ve fucked before, and it was always incredible, but how long can that last? How long can I give myself up to him before I lose myself? Before the raging panic returns, as will the nightmares of my past?

Langston catches the fear in my eyes—so much fear mixed with want. It’s a cataclysmic combination.

It only makes him move slower as I scan the room for a plan. I have nothing. All I can do is fight or surrender, and I’m not one to surrender.

Langston removes his shirt, baring all of his glorious muscles to me before he puts his hands in the pockets of his pants and stands still, watching me.

I let my dress fall to the floor before putting my hands on my hips, mirroring his action.

We both breathe slowly; our eyes grazing each other’s burning flesh.

“You’re mine,” Langston says in a deep, controlling voice.

“Then, come and get me.”

I bite my bottom lip.

He moves.

I move.

One step.

Two steps.

And then we both attack. Both grapple for control of the other.

I grab his pants, needing them off his body, needing him as vulnerable as I feel.

I yank them down his legs as he grabs me once again in his arms and slams me back until I knock the lamp off the small table behind me.

I shove him hard, until his back crashes against the full-length mirror behind him. The glass shatters, no doubt some slicing into his back.

His eyes twinkle with arousal.

I reach between us, finding his cock beneath his boxers. I want to wrap my lips around him. I want to suck him so well that he’ll never want another woman sucking his dick ever again.

He smirks and cups my chin. “You don’t have to worry, huntress. I’m yours.”

He once again reads my thoughts.

Then he slams me back toward the couch. We end up knocking the TV off the wall as we stomp by.

I keep squeezing his cock. He ravishes my mouth with his.

And then, all at once, he releases me until I fall back on the couch with him standing over me.

“Spread your legs.”

I throw them closed, purposefully defying him and loving the thrill it brings me when he seethes and bosses me around.

He steps forward, kicking my ankles apart. “Spread. Your. Legs.”

As I do, he steps between them, his hand moving over my thighs, spreading me wider. He kneels in front of me.

My heart is shuddering in my chest, feeling like a deer that’s just been caught by a tiger.

Langston licks his lips like he’s about to devour a feast. His eyes are a wicked shade of dark brown, swirling with the devious things he wants to do to my body.

And then he leans down, his fingers swiping my panties aside as his tongue licks down my slit.

I bite my lip to keep from screaming his name with one touch, but my hands can’t stand to not touch him. I grab on his hair, pushing his head deeper between my folds.

He stops, his head popping up as he grabs my hands and places them on either side of the couch.

“If you touch me, I’ll stop, and you don’t want me to stop, baby.”

I frown. “Why would you stop?”

“You don’t get to control this.”

I dig my fingers into the couch cushions, trying to give up a little control as Langston once again licks my clit with his tongue.

My eyes roll at the pleasure shooting through my body. My lips part, needing more oxygen. Needing to grab him, but needing Langston to continue more.

He takes his time relentlessly licking over my clit like an endless lollipop. It’s torture, when what I really want is him to suck, twirl, and hum to bring my body to orgasm quickly, instead of this slow, torturous slog.

He has me so worked up that I can’t control myself, and I grab his hair.

He stops, once again moving my hands to the couch before continuing.

“You decide when you come, huntress. Not me.”

“What?” I breathe, confused because he’s clearly the one deciding by going so slowly.

He smiles between my folds before his finger plunges into me. “When you trust me, you’ll come.”

“I trust you.”

“You don’t.”

I frown, realizing I don’t trust him because the fear is still there. The fear that a man