Page 156 of Perfect Liar

“I’ll fucking fix it.”

“Good. Fix it. But remember, whatever happens, whatever you need to fix, neither one of us is whole without the other.”

I hastily tugged on his sweatpants.

“Shall I remind you about that?”

He grabbed my hair and drew me to his mouth, kissing me hard, holding me there, growling against my lips.

“I need you.”

Will needed his pieces cemented back together, and that was something I could fix.

I pressed on his hurt shoulder. He jerked, losing his grip on me, and I pulled away from his mouth. I kissed my way down his neck, his chest, dragging my lips and my teeth over his skin, pushing down his sweatpants.

“Never shut me out again, Will.”

The rhythm of his rising and falling chest intensified as he quietly stared at me.

“Well good, I’m glad we cleared that u?—”

He interrupted me by pushing me onto my back. I pressed on his shoulder again, making him fall back on his once more. His voice crashed against the floral-papered walls as he cursed.

“God-fucking-damn it, Elle!”

As he lay there grumbling, I stared at his handsome face, his beautifully sculpted body, his unbelievable erection.

“Fucking magnificent,” I whispered.

Will’s mood shifted, his ego coming front and center, and he smirked.

“That’s the second time you’ve said fu?—”

I locked my mouth around the wide crown of his erection.

His chest rumbled, and a primal grunt came from his throat. He threaded his fingers in my hair to leverage his hold on me, to control his thrusts into my mouth.

When his wild, fiery blue eyes met mine, the muscles in his chest tensed, and then he flung me across the bed onto my back. He panted against my lips.

“Be careful with that, woman. Push it too far, and you might not like what you get.”

“Try me,” I said.

He kissed me brutally to punish me for challenging him, and then he dragged his mouth down my quivering body, unzipping and pulling off my jeans. He bit my thighs and then he kissed them, slowly teasing me over and over. And when he finally gave me what I wanted, when he put his tongue where I wanted it, I pulled his hair and arched against his mouth.

A growl vibrated in his throat.

From the very first time he’d touched me, he mastered the rhythm and intensity it took to send me over the edge. He could take me there in seconds or draw it out as long as he liked. He knew the exact moment my orgasms began, and he did with them as he pleased…sometimes ruthlessly pushing me to another and other times thrusting into me to feel it himself.

He’d mastered all of me, even my soul.

With his tongue flat, pressing and sliding, I shattered, screaming out his name.

He shot up and pushed inside me with one sharp thrust, swallowing the sounds from my throat. To regain his control, he waited a minute, resting his face against my neck.

“I don’t want distance between us, baby. I wanted to spare you my dark mood. It was the wrong way for me to go about it…and I’m sorry.”

But his words caused my anger to return. I didn’t even know why.