“What does it for you?”
“That it’s you.”
My stomach tumbles as I consider his words. Can he really be serious? That he’s thought about me like this before?
“Stick it out farther. I like how it looks.”
I swallow and arch my back more. I feel like I’m on display for him. But like I’m in a trance, I obey.
“How long have you wanted this, Lacy?”
A chilly breeze hits my face, strands of my hair swaying in front of my face and I hesitate.
“Don’t lie to me, either. No more games,” he adds.
“I-I don’t want you,” I lie, a gut reaction. The words are out before I can consider them.
He slips a hand between my inner thighs, and runs it up my skin until it grazes my slit. “Right. You don’t want me.”
I moan and bite my lower lip to stifle the noise.
“Is that why you’re so wet right now? Because you don’t want me?”
The bass of the yacht’s dance floor vibrates the walls of the room. The whiskey shot and the other drinks course through me. I don’t want to admit to him how long I’ve thought about this. I can’t.
Maybe I don’t even want to admit it to myself.
“I . . . don’t want you Carter. Even if I did, I don’t do one-night stands . . . oh God. Carter.” The words flow out of me, reflexive lies as I try in vain to stave off his advances.
He presses his fingers inside my pussy again. I want more. I want deeper.
I want so badly to heal the chasm between us.
I can’t let him know. I refuse to give in, even as my legs quiver.
He fists my hair into a knot and pulls on it, spinning my head around to look at him.
“Well, I guess I should go then.” He looks calm. Collected. Undeterred. He slips his hand from between my legs.
“No,” I gasp, reaching between my legs and grabbing hold of his hand. “Keep going. Please.”
I raise my eyes until they meet his, and he knows I want everything he can do to me.
“You want me to keep going? You sure?” he teases.
“I like it when you touch me Carter,” I admit.
“And I like the way you moan when I touch you.”
“At least we agree on something,” I mewl.
Butterflies flutter inside me as he wraps his arms around my chest and pulls me up from my bent over position against the wall of the deck. His hands rub all over my body. I grind my bare ass against his cock through the tux pants, vaguely gyrating to the vibration of distant music. Cupping my breasts, he arches my back into him and kisses my neck so hard it hurts.
I let out an angry moan and slip my hand behind me to unzip him.
“Turn around,” he says.
I turn and face him. He cocks his head a little bit to the side. Taking a drink in his hand from the bar in his room, he eats me alive with his eyes. “Good. I want you to take off your clothes. Leave the shoes.”
Nervously, I slip my dress over my head, then look at him.
He nods in approval.
“And the bra and thong too.”
I freeze. He looks menacing, and absolutely powerful.
I unhook my bra, leaving me totally naked except for my shoes.
“Hands behind your back,” he says.
I do it.
My eyes fall away from his face.
He tips my chin up toward him.
“How close did you get to coming when I was touching you just now?” he asks.
“Very close.”
One side of his mouth turns ever so slightly up in a half-smile. “If you want that with me, you’re going to have to earn it. Do you understand?”
I swallow hard and nod. “What do you want me to do?”
He lets go of my chin, and my gaze turns downward again. His hands run over my shoulders, down my skin to my tits. He presses my nipples delicately between his thumb and forefinger, squeezing harder until I groan.
“Fuck yeah, Lacy. I love when you make those noises. So incredibly sexy.”
He unbuckles his belt, takes down his pants, and brings his cock out of his briefs so it dangles inches from my face.
I bring my hands around from behind my back.
“No,” he says.
“No?”
“Like I said, you need to earn it. Open your mouth.”
I open it, and lean forward to try to take him in my mouth.
His hand caresses my head, and he turns my gaze back to him.
“You’re going to have to open a little wider than that, Laces.”
Laces. Using my childhood nickname at a time like this.
For some reason I feel competitive all of the sudden.
Or maybe it’s the heat pooling between my legs. I want him to fuck me so bad. If I don’t get my release from him, I might go insane.
I open my mouth as wide as I can and take him.
I want to tell him, fuck you and your cocky attitude, your ability to turn me on, and your big cock.
He knots up my hair and guides me back and forth on his cock. Starting slowly, he gives me a few inches at a time. In and out. In and out.
“Good girl,” he says, pulling out. “Bring your eyes up to me. I want to see them.”
I take a few desperate breaths before he thrusts his hard cock inside my mouth again, deep this time.
I try not to gag, but he’s so damn powerful as he fucks my face.
But I’m in awe of the power I have over him as I hear a low, gravelly moan from his lips.
“Holy fuck that’s good.” He wraps his hand through my hair as he continues to fuck my face.
When he pulls my hair away this time, I’m gasping for air. He tugs on my hair and I stand up.
We share a lucid moment, examining each other’s faces as if we’re both unsure if this is real. Maybe this is all a dream, and when it’s over we’ll go back to reality.
He grins—which worries me. I’m always worried his next devious idea will be my undoing.
But to my surprise he kisses me on the lips. “Your turn,” he says. I squeal as he picks me up by the hips.
We kiss as he walks me to the bed and lays me down on my back.
“I’m naked. Why do you still have clothes on?” I protest.
“Shut the fuck up and spread your legs,” he growls.
Seconds later, his tongue is on my clit and I’m leaning my pussy up and into his mouth as he licks me with all the same vigor with which he fucked my face.
As I watch him and feel him with my knees pressed back against my shoulders, it’s an odd turn-on that he still has his tux on.
I tremble and grasp behind me, trying to hold on to anything that will make sense of this moment.
The thoughts come in fleeting bolts between charges of pleasure.
The hottest man I’ve ever known has his mouth on my cunt.
But I hate him.
This asshole is just using me for his own pleasure.
But his tongue feels so damn good right now.
He just face-fucked me with almost zero regard for the fact that I could barely breathe.
Not his fault he has a huge, airway-blocking cock.
The battle in my mind melts away as I feel the cusp of an orgasm coming.
I grab onto his head—the closest thing to an anchor in the vicinity—with both hands and twist my pelvis into him damn near violently.
Heat rolls through me and I know I’m on the brink of coming.
And he lifts his mouth off of me.
“You’re close, aren’t you?” he smirks, my juices still on his lips.
“Get your tux off,” I beg.
He frowns. “I give the orders here. I need you to turn around now.”
My eyes go wide. “Turn around?”
He doesn’t say anything, just raises his eyebrows a little and stares at me.
I do as I’m told, turning around and getting on all fours.
I hear his footsteps on the ground as I f
ace forward on the bed.
“You’re a stubborn girl, Lacy,” he says. “And I like that about you. But if we’re going to do this, we’re going to do it my way. Do you understand?”
I nod.
“Say, ‘yes, I understand,’” he says.
“Yes, I understand.”
“Good.”
I feel a hard slap on my asscheek and a jolt of adrenaline runs through me. I moan, and then turn to him as he rubs the area of my skin he just smacked.“That all you got?” I smirk.
His jaw drops a little and he spanks me again. I breath hard as his palm hits me.
“Harder,” I whisper. I close my eyes.
Thwack. Rub.
Thwack. Rub.
Thwack. Rub.
Why the fuck do I like this so much?
I hear Carter breathing hard, and the shuffling of shoes.
Buttons coming undone.
His belt buckle hits the floor.
And then I feel him, his warmth, behind me.
He runs the head of his cock over my pussy slowly. Back and forth.
I start to speak, to tell him ‘just put it in already.’
But I stop myself.
That will only make him wait longer.
So I keep my mouth shut, my eyes closed, and focus on the feel of Carter’s hard flesh as he presses inside me, inch by tight inch. The pressure builds in my core.
Carter’s broken me.
I’m utterly and totally at his mercy.
“Please, Carter,” I beg. “Fuck me, baby. Fuck me.”
He slips his cock all the way in, then grabs my hair and pulls hard as he fucks me. He guides my head behind me, allowing me to see him. He’s so big and tall, he gives me upside-down Spiderman kisses while he thrusts into me.
A few minutes in, I’m wondering if in spite of all Carter’s talk, he might fuck sweetly, if his speed is any indication. He slowly draws in and out, seeming to relish the slow movements.
Then he stops, with his cock fully inside me, whispering close to my ear.
“I’ve thought about this for so long, Laces. You have no idea.”
“Actually, I do,” I whisper back.
I don’t want to admit to him that my college roommate had Carter’s picture as a poster on her wall.
But that I was the one who used the visual for my late night fantasies. Which are coming true, right this moment.
My mind melts to mush, and he speeds up his thrusts, grabs my hips, and fucks me like I’ve never been fucked before.
I clench around him.
He’s a wild bull.
I don’t feel like me anymore. He spanks me and pulls my hair from behind.
The pleasure is so damn intense, but I hold back my orgasm. I try to.
He runs his hands over my tits again and I can’t hold back anymore.
“Gonna . . . come . . . now . . . please . . .” I manage to blurt out.
Instantly, he pulls out from inside me, flips me over onto my back, and my legs press against his shoulders.
My eyes bulge out of my head as he pushes inside. Carter thrusts into me again and again, skin slapping as he hits deep.
His head hangs just out of reach for a kiss, our skin sweaty as it slaps together.
“Come baby,” he says in my ear. “I want you to let it all out.” The throaty tone of his voice undoes me.
I scream as I clench around his cock, and scrape my nails against his back so hard I think I might be drawing blood.
Carter doesn’t seem to care. His response is to grab my hips and plunge deeper with every stroke.
My orgasm crashes through me with the force of a thousand giant waves crashing onto the beach.
A sprinkling thought of the wrongness of this whole hookup only adds to the intensity. Carter squeezes my asscheeks and pins me down as his cock twitches inside me. Sliding his tongue along my neck, he sucks on my skin as he holds himself inside me. His thumb lays across my windpipe.
He lets my legs down from his shoulders as we both come back to the sphere of reality, still panting hard.
I rest my hand on his ass, wishing he would just stay inside me. When he pulls out, this whole moment is going to fade away like a figment of my imagination.
His mahogany eyes hold on me for a moment, and he pulls out.
We lie on the bed, chests heaving, fresh lake breeze rolling in from the open door, we stare at each other in the dim moonlight, and I feel like I’m seeing Carter for the first time.
He doesn’t say anything either. He’s looking at me with the same wide-eyed tension.
I run my hand over his abs and bring it up to his chest. Did I have this man pegged all wrong? No one who fucks like that can be all bad.
“Well,” he says. “We should get you back to your boyfriend, Laces, shouldn’t we?”
15
Carter
I walk a step or two in front of Lacy as we stride down the narrow hallway of the bottom deck of the yacht.
“Carter!” Lacy yells from behind me, in a huff.
I’m not surprised she just can’t stop yelling my name. I turn my head to take a look at her but I don’t slow my step.
She pulls the strap of her dress over her shoulder while her heels click on the ground; she’s making skip steps to keep up with me and my giant strides.
I examine her eyes. They’ve still got the laziness of her post-coital haze, which makes sense. How many times did she come just now? I lost count.
But she’s also exuding this worried intensity. Like maybe she thinks we’ve just done something shameful. Her tone is biting when she finally starts to speak. “Really? You’re just going to keep walking. Well that’s precious. Just fucking typical of you.”
I glance over my shoulder. “I like the sound of you saying ‘fucking.’” You should say it again.
“Fuck you!” she yells.
Rage swells through me, and I halt us at the end of the hallway before we head up the stairs. I grab her by the waist and press her against the wall with my hips. Taking hold of her hands, I spread out her arms behind her head.
With every breath, her chest presses into me again. I smirk down at her.
“You’re serious right now, Carter? ‘Time to get you back to your boyfriend’? That’s all you have to say post-sex? You’re unbelievable. You don’t think we need a little debriefing after what just happened?”
I’m pretty sure I can still make out the points of her hard nipples through her dress. A smirk tugs at the sides of my mouth.
“Nothing to say? Good God, Carter. I’m still shaking from . . . what we did back there.”
The less I say, the more she confesses. I like this. Although I’m still a little confused by the whole her-and-Lance-fucking-in-her-room thing. Was Lance just two-timing his boyfriend and hooking up with Lacy? Maybe he swings both ways.
I bite my lips as I stand still, staring at her. It’s her scent. It’s the way she moaned. It’s the way her body molded to mine. All of those things combined leave me feeling a very mixed up emotional combination of love and hate.
What do you get when you combine those two? Hove? Late?
No. You get Lacy.
“You’re thinking—what are you thinking?” she asks.
“Just that you’re even more attractive when you’re all worked up like this. And you have sex hair.”
“Goddamn it, Carter. Enough with the dirty talk.”
I don’t budge. Instead, I wait until her wandering eyes find mine and lock on them like a guided missile.
“You want to call that dirty talk? I can get much dirtier. And we both needed that. We’ve been carrying around a lot of tension.”
She blinks a few times and her jaw falls open.
Clearly I’ve struck a chord. She shakes her head. “This is just like you. As soon as we get on a sensitive topic that would be good to talk about—like your father—you change the subject one hundred and eighty degrees. I told you, I’m sorry for how I accidentally lied to you.”
“‘Accidentally’ lied? That’s classic. I think I’m going to start using that one.”
She averts her eyes, turns her head, and swallows. Her hips gyrate just the slightest bit.
I narrow my gaze at her. “And you. What are you thinking about right now?”
“None of your business.”
Collecting herself, she shakes her head. She’s about to say something, but she bites her lip and heads back up the stairs.
I follow her up the steep staircase. I do wonder what’s going on in that pretty little head of hers.
Maybe she thinks I’m unfeeling because I don’t want to cuddle and have post-sex pillow talk with her. And maybe she’s right about that. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned in my years of dating around, it’s that I’m rarely in the right state of mind to have an objective discussion after sex. If that’s unfeeling, well, I am callous. But I’d rather not say some stupid bullshit and have it come out the wrong way.
Plus, call me a sadist, but I want to see her try and explain what just happened in front of her “boyfriend.”
Why doesn’t she just come clean with me at this point?
Lacy looks hauntingly beautiful and graceful as she glides up the steps. We reach the lower deck, and she turns into the next staircase that heads to the top deck outside.
Just before she gets to the top of the upper deck, she turns and looks back at me.
I realize the moon is full, casting a shimmering light over her profile. She’s glossy-eyed as we make eye contact.
For a moment, some foreign emotion wells up in my gut, inside me. It’s fleeting, but I feel something I’ve never felt in my life. It’s chemical, a strong undercurrent of desire, and I have no idea what to do with it.
I keep my gaze leveled on hers, not giving anything away with my cold, heartless facial expression. I swallow, my skin prickling with intensity as we hold onto each others’ gaze.
I clench my fists and my whole body tenses up, from my gut to my jaw.
She speaks. “I never thought our first time would. . . never mind. Better get back to my boyfriend.”
I cock my head a little at the ‘boyfriend’ remark, and squint as she disappears from view.
Now she’s really fucking with my head.
The Lying Game Page 9