Page 19 of We're All Liars
“Just fucking get to it.”
My laugh vibrates against her stomach as I move down but stop just below her belly button. “Still waiting to hear you belong to me, and no one else will ever touch you, taste you, fuck you.”
“Like I have a fucking choice.” Her words sound furious, but I know exactly where the frustration stems from.
Looking up at her, I say what might get me kicked in the jaw. “You made me love you. It’s only fair to return the favor.”
Her eyes narrow and she finally admits defeat (even if it’s very rage-filled). “Yes. I’m yours. Trust me, if someone else were a choice, I’d have found them. Now stop talking so fucking much and lick my pussy, fuck me, and be done.”
I shift down a bit, my tongue licking over her clit as her body tenses. “Trust me. You’ll never find someone else. And I’ll never be done with you.”
She goes to say something else, I’m sure an insult or colorful word, but she loses the words with a gasp as my face moves between her thighs, my mouth devouring her pussy. I look up to get a glimpse of her, her eyes closing as I lick and suck.
Propping her leg up beside her, her head drops back as she lets out an exaggerated moan. “Fuck.” A minute later she tenses, unmistakably riding out her orgasm as I continue eating her. When she goes to guide me up, I grip both her wrists in my hand, holding them as my mouth only leaves her pussy long enough to tell her, “No. You need another one to get that frustration out of you.” And maybe I need to give her another wave of pleasure after our last encounter, where I used her mouth, made her feel worthless and cheap. I need to make it up to her. Worship her body. Bring her every bit of pleasure possible to truly make her feel how irreplaceable she is. Even with the hatred, the evil, the agony, she’s the other half of my soul. Every sharp broken piece of her fits into every jagged part of me. That’s why, I’m certain, we can only be complete with together.
She lets out a few more curses under her breath as I continue licking her, savoring her until she rides another surge of pleasure. After her body relaxes, I move up, my mouth on hers as my finger slides back inside her. Her pussy tensing around my fingers, her hand catching my wrist as I pump my fingers inside her.
“Cade,” she breathes, her body rigid as I continue to pump my fingers inside her, “please fuck me.”
God, I could come just from those words alone. Morgan saying please and begging for my dick inside her is something I will never not love hearing. As I move over her, her hands shove down my already unbuttoned jeans and boxers. When her hand wraps around my dick, I move to sit beside her, hauling her onto my lap, her knees on either side of me. She’s already positioning my dick at her entrance as she shifts forward, then eagerly slides down, taking my dick inside her. Fuckinghomeis all I can think as I fill her.
Moving my arms up her back, I grasp her shoulders, following the pace she sets, pulling her down as she rides me. My hand tangles in her hair, gathering a fistful as I grip it and pull her lips to mine. My other hand drops between us, my thumb stroking her clit. “I’m not coming until you do.” And fuck I hope I can hold out because I feel like I could easily unload inside her right fucking now. But I need this to last longer. Even though it’s one of the few times I’m inside her, I don’t doubt that I’ll get to have her again.
And as soon as she’s coming, the pleasure spreading across her face, her body leaning into me as she clings to me and says, “Yes,” that’s when I let go, releasing inside her. Stilling for a few seconds before thrusting inside her again, my hands grip her hips as I hold her down, like there’s a possibly of me getting deeper inside her. And I know there’s not. It doesn’t matter what is said or done. This is it. Forever.
19
MORGAN
I feel him rubbing my back before I hear him. “Wake up.”
Ugh. I really don’t like those words. At all. “Let’s just skip.” I pull the comforter over my head, but the refuge doesn’t last long because the blanket is pulled out of my hands and off of me, leaving my naked body exposed.
Cade is fully dressed in his Saint Juliet uniform, hovering over me. “Maybe tonight you’ll sleep instead of begging me to fuck you all night.”
“Like you were complaining.”
His grinning lips give me a quick kiss. “Never. But I’m the one ready to go.” He pushes off the mattress, slips from the bed, and gives my thigh a playful slap. “Come on. Or we’ll be late.”
“Yeah. That’d be the worst.” I tuck my face in the pillow as I close my eyes.
His hand grasps my ass. “Fuck, Morgan. I’m already hard as a fucking rock.”
“Hm. Too bad.” I lean over on my side and glare at him. “Because we’ll be late for school.” I slide off the bed and head to the shower.
I barely have the water turned on when he appears behind me, removing his uniform quickly and dropping it to the floor as he follows me into the shower. He’s against me, his stomach to my back, his hand reaching around, smoothing down my torso to slide between my thighs. “We have time.”
“I’m not so sure,” I tease, knowing good and damn well that I’m not leaving this shower, much less this room, until he fucks me. It’s been the usually routine. Sex, sleep, sex, school, whatever bullshit, other bullshit, then more sex. He joked we were making up for the lost time. But I didn’t find the joke all that funny. I’m not making up for lost time, I’m getting every piece of him while I can. After all this is over, we will be too. We’ll go back to the years where we were nothing but a damaged couple who hate each other, only sparing a few choice words and hateful, resentful glances at each other.
“What’s wrong?” he asks as he turns me around and studies me. The concern on his face is too much. He reads me so easily. And I don’t want some heart-to-heart convo right now. I want to get a nut and at least make this a decent start to what is sure to be a miserable day. Game day. Yay.
“Just worried about that stamina. Aren’t you supposed to refrain from strenuous activity before games?”
His hands slide down my back, gripping my ass as he lifts, then he’s pressing my back against the cool tile wall. “That’s a bullshit rule. If anything”—his head dips down, tongue on my neck—“this relaxes me and improves my performance on the field.” He squeezes my ass. “Because if I don’t get to taste you, I’ll have a hell of a time concentrating once it’s game time. All I’ll be able to do is watch you on the sidelines, think about every single inch of you that I want to lick.”
“Your tongue hardly stops wagging long enough to lick anything,” I goad, frustrated at his playfulness because I need a release more than anything.
He recognizes my impatience with his laugh, his lips still teasing me. “But if you’re really worried, we don’t have—”