Crown of Lies

by Pepper Winters

  I took it figuratively, opening my legs wider.

  His primal growl echoed in my chest as I gave into him. I went supple, submitting entirely. He angled himself higher, somehow swooping upright, hoisting me into his arms while still filling me deep.

  Sitting on his knees on the couch, he cradled me in his arms while my legs draped either side of him. His fingers became white-knuckled as they locked around my hips, keeping me wedged as far down his cock as he could.

  His head fell forward as he watched us fucking. Slowing, his cock pulsed inside me, dragging out the pleasure to agonizing joy.

  “Oh, God, yes...like that.” My body turned limp as I focused completely inward. He supported me as he did it again, slowly learning me as I learned him, trading our dictionaries, our thesauruses, making sense of this new language we’d developed.

  “Please, Penn,” I whimpered as the billowing orgasm became a physical entity. It was part human, part wind, part ocean. It needed somewhere to go, someone to explode for.

  “Fuck, I love it when you beg.” His lips latched onto mine. We kissed hungrily. We kissed savagely. “Do it again.”

  I didn’t hesitate. “Please. Please make me come. I need to come.”

  His grip bruised me as he thrust up, sending my breasts bouncing.

  My thoughts scattered, my nerve endings trembled, my entire body clenched. “I’m so close. God, please...”

  “Come, Elle. Fucking come.”

  My breathing stopped.

  The world turned sparkly and gray.

  I couldn’t hold off anymore.

  My brain turned to sounds rather than words.

  My body turned to liquid rather than bones.

  I came.

  I came and came as Penn fucked me as ruthlessly and as thoroughly as any hot-blooded lover.

  The moment I finished, he looked down, shoving aside the bunched material of my dress, hypnotized by his cock driving into me. “Fuck, yes. This—this is truth right here, Elle.”

  His hand roamed to my breast, clutching my flesh with passion bordering on pain.

  Grabbing my hair, he drove into me harder, harder. His roar added gasoline, and I plummeted stronger and faster than ever before. My back bowed as he pulled my hair with a vicious yank.

  “Shit, take it. Take me. Take everything.” His words scrambled with grunts as he chased me off the cliff.

  His orgasm quaked his body, his forehead smashing against my shoulder as he emptied himself.

  He didn’t look up for a long moment. His breathing ragged and lost.

  I stroked his hair, calming him even though I needed calming myself.

  Time lost all meaning as we slowly returned to earth and disengaged.

  I couldn’t look him in the eye as he pulled off the used condom and placed it in the brown paper bag the mousse had come from.

  Standing, he tucked himself away and did up his trousers, followed by fastening his belt. Once presentable, he raked a hand through his hair.

  “Tomorrow night.”

  I looked up, smoothing my dress, still shivering from orgasm aftershocks. “What?”

  “If you have any plans, cancel them.” He strode around the couch, pausing in the middle of my apartment. “You’re coming with me. Dress in silver. I’ll pick you up at Belle Elle at seven.”

  He left me alone with the chocolate mousse and my crazy conclusions.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  ALL DAY I’D struggled between working and reminiscing about sex.

  I was sore again, entirely focused on Penn every time I moved, and my body clenched from being used. He’d consumed me and utterly confused me.

  Why chocolate?

  Why kiss me with chocolate?

  I hated that I now had two experiences with dessert and kissing.

  The two memories did their best to mingle, to convince me that Penn was Nameless and Nameless was Penn.

  I didn’t have a picture of Penn, and Google had nothing on him—no company profile, no Facebook account. I wanted to stare into his face and force my brain to recall Nameless. To delete the scruffy beard and dark dreadlocks—to see if there was any chance (no matter how small) that the distinguished cocky businessman currently seducing me was that ragamuffin from my past.

  * * * * *

  By the afternoon, I was semi back to normal. There were no erotic texts from Penn, no pop-ins from Greg, and the back-to-back meetings with Japan wholesalers and a new supplier of handbags in Beijing meant I could remain focused on things I knew, rather than things I didn’t.

  Around noon, Dad brought me a chicken Caesar salad and kissed my forehead like I was still his twelve-year-old protégée. He stared at me as if he was awed and a little afraid. “Two things. If you still want me to hire a private investigator, I will—for your peace of mind.”

  “Thank you.” I patted his hand, grateful but not as gung-ho as I thought I’d be about snooping into Penn’s background.

  “And two,” Dad continued. “Greg cornered me this morning.”

  My heart picked up a sword while my voice remained nonchalant. “Oh?”

  “He said you guys have agreed to go to dinner tonight.”

  I exhaled with frustration. “I did nothing of the sort.” Deciding now would be a good time to tell him how wary I’d become of Greg, I added, “He’s not as suave and sophisticated as you think, Dad.” I fought my shiver. “He said some pretty nasty things to me yesterday. I wasn’t comfortable.”

  Dad’s eyes became snipers. “He did?” He rubbed his jaw. “I must admit I thought it was low of you to date Penn yet see Greg on the side. I should’ve known you’d never do such a thing.”

  “The male race could die out, and I still wouldn’t entertain the idea of Greg being dateable.”

  He sighed. “I’m beginning to see that. I’m sorry I pushed you into something you’re not happy about.”

  “It’s fine. But would you do me a favor and have my back next time he tries to do anything?”

  Dad nodded fiercely. “Absolutely. I’ll have a word with Steve that you’re with Penn now, and even if you weren’t, you guys are old enough to set yourself up without meddling old matchmakers who don’t have a clue what they’re doing.”

  The heavy weight I’d been carrying for years slowly chipped off my shoulders, becoming manageable instead of mountainous. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t mention it. I just want you to be happy. That’s all I’ve ever wanted, Bell Button.”

  He stood and headed for the door. He smiled sadly. “I know you want answers about who Penn is before you give him a chance, but if I’ve learned anything, it’s that love is the biggest truth there is.” He shrugged. “All the rest—the questions and worries—it’s all just noise.”

  He closed the door before I could reply, leaving me to my lunch.

  * * * * *

  By the time six p.m. rolled around, my back ached from spending the afternoon hunched over my laptop, and my eyes hurt even after wearing my glasses.

  Fleur barged into my office with yet another dress wrapped in a clear protective bag. “Time to get ready, remember?”

  I tugged my glasses down my nose, pinching the bridge. “Huh? I thought I was finished for the day.”

  “You are. You have that seven p.m. thing with your fiancé, remember?”

  I groaned. “Ugh, don’t call him my fiancé.”

  “He is, though, right?” Her face slipped with doubt. I wanted to be the one to fill her with truth, but I was tired and cranky, and I’d had enough for the day. I decided to take the more diplomatic approach and ignore her question.

  Vague memories of Penn’s invite—or command—about me joining him tonight came back. I’d stupidly mentioned it to Fleur when I’d arrived this morning.

  I stood up, nerves joining my blood to stream around my heart. I didn’t want to go. I was mentally exhausted.

  Draping the dress over the couch, she placed a Belle Elle shopping bag beside it. “Inside are some heels,
hair accessories, and a shawl. I also took the liberties of bringing up some lingerie for you too.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You know way too much about me. I don’t know if I’m comfortable with you knowing my bra size.”

  She waved it away. “You know all your secrets are mine to keep.” Marching to the door, she added, “Give me a call if you need help with your makeup and hair. I’m just finishing the spring catalog mock-up before heading home. Jack is taking me out to Mexican, and I can’t be late.”

  It wasn’t the first time she’d mentioned her boyfriend or life outside of Belle Elle, but for some reason, tonight it hit home. She had a life. She had someone to share it with. Was it so wrong of me to sample that? What made Penn Everett such a bad choice? And was he bad or was it all in my head? Why was I trying to twist him into another? Nameless was gone.

  It’s time I grew up and gave him a chance.

  “Thank you for the dress.”

  “No problem.” She smiled and disappeared.

  Striding to the couch, I unzipped the bag, pulled out the softest silver gown I’d ever seen, and headed into my private bathroom to shower and prepare.

  * * * * *

  Penn (06:55 p.m.): I’m downstairs. I won’t come up because if I do, I’ll fuck you in your office and then we’ll be late. Come down.

  I slammed my phone down—partly because of the sudden shakes at seeing him again and partly because of his rudeness.

  Staring at myself in the mirror, I second-guessed keeping my hair loose even though I’d secured it to the side with a clip in the shape of a crescent moon decorated with mirrored mosaics.

  Fleur had once again chosen a stunning dress. The silver and white lingerie beneath the dress added secrecy to my outfit that I may or may not show Penn. The thick satin gown covered my body with sleeves draping like wings down my arms with the off-the-shoulder style. The length came to mid-calf with acres of material ready to flare out at the slightest movement.

  I looked as if I’d stepped into the moon and come out wearing its metallic essence.

  Penn (07:00 p.m.): You’re late.

  My teeth ground together as I scooped my phone into the little silver beaded bag and left my bathroom. Sage looked up from her spot on the couch, meowing softly. I padded over to her where my heels were. I kissed the top of her head. “I’m going to miss you, but you can’t come.”

  She pouted as if to say there’d been multiple events she wasn’t invited to these past few weeks.

  Scratching her under the chin, I promised, “Dad will come and pick you up. You can spend the night at the brownstone and explore the garden rather than be stuck in the top floor apartment. How about that?”

  She gently bit my finger in grudging agreement.

  “See you later, kitty.” Stepping from my office, I locked my door and double-checked I had what I needed. I’d done my own makeup and was pleased when one of the janitors did a double take at my smoky eyes and nude glossed lips.

  I’m late, am I?

  I’d show him I wouldn’t simper and apologize. I was worth waiting for.

  Taking the elevator down, I spotted the black limousine before I saw him.

  Penn stood with his arms crossed and back reclining against the luxury vehicle. He didn’t move as I swiped my keycard to exit the locked sliding doors, and my heels clipped elegantly across the sidewalk.

  Belle Elle glittered behind me with window displays, rich red awnings, and the biggest sign on the block blazing our brand and promise.

  Penn pressed his lips together the closer I got, his body stiffening. He didn’t reach out and touch me. He merely stepped sideways, opened the car door, and inclined his head for me to hop in.

  Keeping eye contact with him, I obeyed, ensuring I gathered up the dress and climbed in demurely. However, some inner minx decided to rise to his challenge and fight fire with fire.

  I opened my legs a little, flashing him a quick glance of the white garter belt holding up sheer pantyhose and the silver lace hiding the place only he’d touched.

  He slammed the door so hard the limousine rattled.

  Nervousness climbed up my spine, waiting for him to walk to the other side and climb in. I jumped as he wrenched it open, claimed the seat beside me, then punched the intercom to the driver hidden behind a black wall. “To the Pemberly.”

  “Yes, sir,” the driver said as the car moved into motion with a swan-like glide. Downtown moved past tinted windows while traffic noise and city smells invaded the interior through the open sky roof.

  Still, Penn didn’t look at me.

  His hands fisted. His jaw clenched so tight, the muscles in his throat looked as if they’d shatter.

  I didn’t know what to do. Had he had a bad day? Was he that pissed at me for being late?

  Not that I was late. He was early.

  If he wanted to stew and not talk to me, then fine. I could do the same. Placing my handbag on the seat between us, I settled into the leather and glared out the window.

  A second went past.

  Barely a second.

  Before my handbag went slamming to the floor as Penn swiped it away.

  “What on earth—”

  His lips bruised mine, his hands grabbing my waist, dragging me unceremoniously across the backseat and into his lap.

  He attacked me in every sense of the word.

  We were so close.

  But it wasn’t enough.

  Pushing off his chest, I swiveled from damsel in distress in his arms to opening my legs, pushing my dress up my thighs, and straddling him.

  His growl echoed so long and deep, I became instantly wet.

  “Christ, Elle.” He stole my mouth again, his hands coming up to capture my face, his fingers tight against my nape, not giving me any room to run. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

  I let go and did what I’d wanted to do but pretended I didn’t. I became a full participant. I’d let him take me the first night, allowing first-time jitters to subdue me. The second time, I’d been swept away by chocolate memories.

  Not now.

  Not again.

  My hands mimicked his, cupping his five o’clock shadow, digging my fingernails into his cheeks.

  He jolted in my hold, his lips tearing at mine as if he could eat me, bite me, consume me.

  We gave up our humanness and turned ferocious.

  I loved the way he kissed me. I loved the way I kissed him back. I loved the noises and hardness and rocking and touching and clawing. I adored how muggy the limo became. I relished in how my dress clung to sweat-beaded skin.

  I sucked on his tongue, holding it tight as he groaned and thrust up, his hands slamming onto my hips to push me down onto him.

  His body rocked as if he was already inside me, already punishing me for things I didn’t understand.

  His eagerness and viciousness fed the well inside me that had been empty until he’d barged into my life. This was true lust, and I wanted to drown in the sensation of having this powerful, secretive man come apart beneath me.

  His hand slid off my hip and up my skirt.

  I gasped as he found my soaked underwear. He shoved it to the side with a simple flick. The moment I was bare, he thrust a finger inside me, causing my back to bend until I was sure I’d topple off his lap if he didn’t wrap a long, strong arm around my back and clutch me hard.

  “Fuck you, Elle,” he panted, inserting a second finger, stretching me, stimulating the slight soreness from last night.

  “Fuck me?” I blinked hurt and turned on. “Now, what did I do?”

  “You’re screwing me up, that’s what.” His mouth stopped his confessions by once again seeking mine. My skin burned from his barely-there beard, stinging from fresh bruises. With my knees hugging his hips, I deepened the kiss, taking control, licking his tongue with mine.

  His words turned on a carousel inside my mind: ‘You’re screwing me up. Screwing me up.’ I didn’t know how, but I was glad. I was glad because I’d learne
d something terrible about myself thanks to him.

  I might believe I was a woman with sinew, skeleton, and heartbeat, but in reality, my soul comprised of trust and my bones calcified with belief—I was a flimsy, trusting thing who could no longer tell if her instincts were true or masquerading as ridiculous desperation for hope.

  Penn yanked away, digging his fingers into my hips. He shoved me back, teetering me on his knees, revealing his erection pushing up tight against the fly of his silver tuxedo.

  I’d never seen a man dressed in silver before but, my God, it suited him.

  It brought out the cinnamon in his eyes, the honey in his hair, the compassion hiding deep within.

  “What the fuck are you doing to me?” His gaze couldn’t hold mine, slipping over my body, locking onto my pushed aside panties and core. “It wasn’t supposed to go on this long.”

  “What wasn’t?”

  “This.” His groan was tortured as his thumb pressed into my wetness. “Whatever this is.”

  I quaked, fighting fluttering eyelids. “You chased me.”

  “Wrong.” His teeth nipped my throat. “I hunted you.”

  Truth lay in that tiny paragraph, but I couldn’t decipher it.

  Finding courage in his undoing, I ran my hands down his chest, heading straight to his cock. He didn’t stop me as I popped the fastener on his sleek trousers and undid the zipper.

  I bit my lip as I inserted my hand into his tight boxer-briefs, never taking my eyes off his face. “I—I want you.”

  “Now?” His eyes narrowed then widened as I ran my thumb over his crown.

  “Now.”

  He rocked up, grabbing my hand with his own and wrapping my fingers tighter, using me for his pleasure. “We do this...we do it my way.” He glanced at the silver watch on his wrist—the same watch he’d noted when he’d told me my two minutes were up with the almost blowjob.

  I swallowed. “Fine.”

  “Do you trust me?”

  The car kept coasting. But my heart slammed to a stop.

  That question.

  Another man, another time—same four words, identical twelve letters.

  My lips parted as I dove into his rich coffee eyes. I wanted to demand why he’d asked that at this exact moment—the same way another had asked before he kissed me.