Page 62 of Perfect Liar
But damn him. He had commanded my full surrender while holding back, so I arched up against his slow thrusts and writhed beneath him, pushing him to let go of more.
“I don’t want you to hold back, Will.”
With that, he covered my mouth with his, kissing me with the same intensity as before…but it was also different.
“I’ll take everything from you,” he said.
I kept my eyes locked on his and nodded.
“Do it.”
And then he pushed deeper inside me and drove harder, faster, filling me over and over.
It was intense. Our connection was intense. It burned away everything we had been, and we became something more. Something we could have never been just as individuals.
We were remade.
Another unexpected orgasm tore through me.
I shouted his name again, against his lips. My body and my soul shattered a third time. Only ever for him.
His body tensed, and he lifted his head, throwing it back. A growl broke loose from his throat and became a roar. His breath was heavy as he collapsed his weight onto me and burrowed into my hair again.
Once he calmed down, he kissed the birthmark on my neck, kissed my butterfly. Then he whispered hoarsely by my ear.
“I’ll never let you go, baby. Not ever.”
I lay there beneath him, breathless, speechless.
He rolled onto his back and pulled me to his chest.
Will now owned my body. He possessed my soul. And he did both of those things with strength and authority but also with tenderness.
A minute later, his tone changed, catching me off guard.
“Elle, the same rules apply here. You will not leave this house without me or my permission.”
CHAPTER 19
No nightmares—no knives, no distorted faces, and no death.
I had slept in Will’s arms through the entire night without dreaming.
There had been only Will.
He planned to leave after he finished training with Thomas in the gym, and I couldn’t bear not kissing him once more before he went back to London. So I leaped off his bed and found my dress neatly draped over a chair, and then hurried down the corridor to my own room.
When I burst through my door, Mrs. Bates was already there, misting the roses.
“G’morning, dearest. Lily will get on with breakfast soon.”
“Mrs. Bates, really, I don’t mind going down to the kitchen.”
“That’s not how we do things round here. I wouldn’t like to see you at the table with all the men and their rabid appetites and poor manners,” she said.
I’d picked the same fight with her the morning before and the morning before that, battling an antiquated custom that she adored for some reason. And each morning, she refused to yield.
I supposed I could ask Will to make her stop. I shook my head. No, I wouldn’t, though. I needed to go along with the traditions of his family home while I stayed there.