Page 94 of House of Lies
The word cuts through the air like a blade. He goes still beneath me, pushing himself up so that he can look at my face, reminding me why I trust him blindly. His mouth is smeared with a mixture of my wetness and his blood. He looks like a fucking savage.
“What’s wrong?” He draws his brows together, concern dripping in his tone.
“Nothing,” I hurry to add, realizing that I’ve abruptly stopped him, my voice too hoarse. “I was just ... I want to—” He raises an eyebrow, patiently waiting for me to think coherently. I can’t. Not when he’s looking at me like he can’t wait to devour me whole. I take a deep breath. “I want to feel you inside me when I come. That’s why I stopped you,” I explain, my cheeks burning. He licks the blood off his lips with a lazy smirk. “Not because ... not because I was?—”
“It’s all right, solnysho. You don’t need to explain yourself. Whatever you need, I’ll give it to you.”
Kaz withdraws, shifting behind me. I watch him undress over my shoulder, positioning himself on his knees behind me. He digs his fingertips into my waist, pulling me back. He rubs the head of his erection against my clit in slow motion. I place my hand on top of his, my head falling back onto his shoulder.
“Kiss me.” I turn my head toward him.
“You seem to enjoy giving me orders,” he grins.
I love the way he kisses me. It feels more intimate than fucking—the way he possesses my mouth, the way he slips his tongue inside my mouth, groaning like he’s pleased with me. He guides me back to his length by gripping my waist and simultaneously thrusting forward to fill me completely. He fucks me hard, making it difficult to focus. He’s unforgiving. I struggle to kiss him back until he laughs at how unfocused I am—dark and low—before he yanks me back, wrapping his arm around me so tight I can’t move. I want to make this last for as long as I can, but my control wavers. His hand slips down on my stomach. I place mine on the wall before me, looking for any balance. He thrusts deep, keeping me close to his body.
“Is this what you want?” He whispers in my ear. “To take every inch of my cock like a good girl until you come on it?”
“Yes.” It’s easy to reply since this is the only word I can remember now.
He pulls back, bringing me with him. Placing a hand on my back, he urges me to rest face down on the pillow, my ass in the air, as he slows his pace, pulling almost out before plunging back in. I wasn’t joking when I told him I felt mentally unstable. I truly do. Vanya still scares me. So do his men. But I crave Kaz so badly that I stopped being afraid of him. He’s the only person in the entire universe who can touch me without me freaking out about it. He places his hand on the back of my head, forcing me to stay still as he gives me what I need, shoving himself deep inside me and fucking me like he’s angry at me.
“You feel so fucking good,” he reminds me.
I spread my legs wider, struggling to catch my breath. I trust him with my body, but I certainly don’t trust him with my heart. I only trust him with his. I asked him to help me forget, and he did. My body betrays me, and I come, giving him what he wants. I shake and scream so loudly that I’m sure the pilot will hear this. It feels like I’ve been sitting on the beach before the tsunami hit. I’m left breathless, feeling the aftershocks with every move of his hips, until I want to collapse, but I can’t. Kaz removes his hand from the back of my head, moving it to my thigh and digging deep into my skin. Nothing felt as good as this. I struggle to find rational answers, but there aren’t any. I don’t know how I can still enjoy sex after everything that happened to me, but he’s my cure. I can’t fight this. He curses, following me over the edge as he comes inside me. He kisses my spine before we shift to our sides, collapsing on the mattress. Kaz is still buried inside me, breathing heavily behind me. His arms wrap around my waist, keeping me tight. I stare at the wall, trying to catch my breath.
“How’s your nose?” I break the silence.
He chuckles, placing a kiss on my neck. There’s a flutter in my stomach.
“I’ll survive.”
I recall my disappointment when he said something like that when I mistook him for his brother. I wished for him to die. The thought of his death sends chills down my spine now.
“Do you think that this is unusual?”
“What is unusual?”
“That I can still enjoy sex with you after everything? Shouldn’t I be ... not okay?”
“I’m glad that you enjoy sex with me, solnyshko. It will make the next six months more bearable. But you have nightmares. You barely eat, and you care so little about your life that you pushed yourself against my gun. You’ve been through far too much. You’re not okay.”
I continue to stare at the wall. “Do you think I should seek help?”
“I do, yes,” he tells me the cold, harsh truth. “And we’ll get you someone to talk to soon enough.”
I know he’s right. I’ve been approaching this in the wrong way. Just because I can still find pleasure in sex doesn’t mean I’m fine. I’m just surprised that he noticed all of this. That he paid enough attention.
“But I’m here for you, Caelia,” he adds, kissing my shoulder.
“Thank you,” I say instead of asking him why. That’s a question I’ll have to answer for myself. “I’m sorry I hit you.”
“I should’ve known better than to wake you in the middle of a nightmare.”
“It wasn’t your fault.”
“If I can’t take a hit from my woman, then why the hell am I still breathing?”
I laugh, even though nothing about this is funny. We’re growing too comfortable in our new roles too quickly. It’s as if we’ve flipped a switch and remembered who we are to each other. And what we are scares the hell out of me.