Bitter Lies

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Bitter Lies Page 8

by Nina Lincoln

With a low rumble in his throat, his eyes clear and he collapses onto me, thrusting his erection into my core. “Mm, you like that?”

  “Yes.” I clutch his huge arms as waves of heat cascade through me, ending in the aching pulse of my clit.

  He grabs my mouth in another kiss, his tongue dueling with mine as he humps me lewdly, his hips swiveling with every sweet pump. The friction against my core creates a havoc of tingles that build into a crescendo as I arch against him and pant my need.

  “Is your pussy wet, sweetheart?” he purrs, pulling back before I can orgasm.

  I drop back to the bed with disappointment as he goes for my pants and unbuttons them briskly, groaning when he stops to run his rough hand over the curve of my leg.

  “Oh.” Absently, I note I’m panting, as I push my pants down with trembling hands.

  I’m so focused on what’s about to happen next, I miss his fingers until they’re running over my lips, and with a gasp, I freeze as he swirls his finger into me and pumps in and out of me slowly.

  “So wet,” he groans.

  “Mm, oh god.” I thrust into his hand, the painfully pleasurable feeling surging through me quickly.

  “You want to come, sweet?”

  “Yes, please,” I beg, past the point of reason—past the point of remembering who he is, who we are, the cruelty, the hate. It’s all transferring into a desperate need as he growls and drops to his knees, licking me up, before fucking his tongue inside. His urgency as he flicks his tongue in rapid strokes sends me to the top of the ride, and I buck into his face, grabbing his hair as I sob my need.

  Vaguely, I watch as he pulls back and licks his lips wickedly, his eyes bright with intensity as he replaces two fingers inside me and suckles my clit into his mouth. The minute his lips cover my button, my orgasm, hovering just below my skin, erupts, and with a shout, I buck into his face, juicing down below.

  He moans against my core and massages my clit, grinning at me fiercely when I arch into the air and keen.

  “Yeah, sweet, show me. Come in my mouth.”

  “Oh god, Griffin,” I moan, writhing beneath him. I don’t know if I can do it again, but he’s relentless, sucking and pulling and thrusting his wicked fingers until all at once, the pleasure becomes pain, and I fall off the cliff, crying out as I grind against his face and explode.

  “Fuck yes,” he breathes, standing and sliding inside of me before I have time to come down.

  But the pleasant tremors from before drop away as I slide back into the abyss and stare blindly at the sky, the stars shining grotesquely over my head. I can’t move. It hurts. What’s happening?

  “Halsey,” Griffin says gruffly, and my eyes flash to his beautiful face pulled back in a snarl.

  Dumbly, I stare at his feral expression as he pounds against me heatedly, but I can’t focus as I push against the wall in my head. It’s all around me, the darkness.

  My fingers curl into the dirt. I’m dirty. It’s dirty.

  “Look at me.” Griffin pulls back just enough to reach my core and runs his fingers gently over my clit. My eyes fly back to his, searching the hazel depths as I flip into the here and now.

  Griffin stares at me with a strange light behind his eyes, and my heart burns in my chest. Once he confirms my focus, his mouth curves in a wicked smile as he pinches my clit gently, and I arch into him with a cry. The surge of pleasure pain that rushes through me causes tears to prick at my eyes as I look at him starkly.

  He’s so beautiful as he chases his need, pushing my knees to my chin and groaning as he grinds against me wickedly. And in his glittering stare, I think I see the same want that surely shines from my own. Does he see me?

  “Oh god,” I moan, meeting his thrusts, unable to look away from the intensity of his gaze.

  He pounds into me once more, and my body tightens again as another orgasm barrels through me on wings of fire. With a helpless sob, I convulse around him painfully and collapse, watching through lidded eyes as he bottoms out.

  “Mm, fuck yes, come on my dick,” he growls, shoving impossibly farther inside of me.

  “Griffin!” I cry out, watching as his face spasms with pain, and he blows, painting me with his seed, but just as quickly, he pulls back from me as I lie dazed on the bed, still panting.

  Shoving his semi-hard dick in his pants, he avoids my gaze as he backs away, and my stomach clenches awfully, dropping like a fucking rock.

  Without a word, he turns to the door, denying me the stark look in his eyes, only to stop at the threshold. My heart jumps in my throat, then falls to my knees as he mutters sternly, “Don’t fucking miss class again.”

  My jaw drops, and I huff out a bitter laugh, but I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that sex, phenomenal sex at that, isn’t going to repair the dead heart surely not beating in his cruel fucking chest.

  Unbelievable.

  Rolling over, I ignore the pulse of disappointment and stare at the ceiling, a smile creeping over my face because, despite Griffin’s total brush-off, I’ve proven that sex is still a possibility for me, and it’s a glorious notion, to be sure. I’m not wholly ruined, it would seem.

  Chapter Nine

  Feeling pretty is like fools good—it’s shiny and fucking neat until you get to the inside.

  Of course, Griffin sets to ignoring the whole encounter like it never happened, and I’m confused and reeling in the aftermath.

  When I was younger and stupid, I envisioned my first time with Griffin being soft and sweet. He would look at me with his adoring hazel eyes, and I would melt in his embrace.

  Instead, it was rough and dirty, and although I orgasmed, more than once at that, I’m caught between the familiar feeling of being used and weirdly exhilarated that he fucked me.

  That and the act itself has brought out an obsessive need to clean my skin that I’ve battled all morning, because although it wasn’t what I ever imagined it to be, it was still a connection with Griffin. I don’t know what this means, and I’m afraid to even wonder, but the pathetic part of me that has loved him since he looked at me with his shining eyes chooses to hold this close as a memory of what could have been.

  And truthfully, I’m pleased that I was intimate with someone without freaking out and even found pleasure in the act. The only problem is that it was Griffin, and I lusted after him long before everything. So, was it because it was him? Or am I free from one more anchor weighing me down?

  I won’t know unless I put myself out there and try with someone else, which I’m not sure I’m ready for, but maybe it’s what I need to do? Push myself?

  Fuck, I don’t know, but we successfully ignore each other for the next few days until Friday when the guys take off for a party, and I remain home alone.

  On their way out the door, Griffin, looking particularly beautiful in jeans and a shirt that does nothing to hide his physique, says with a cruel smirk, “No parties.”

  “Ha! She doesn’t have friends,” Max sneers, and I narrow my eyes.

  Why does Max feel the incessant need to be fucking cruel?

  “Indeed.” Griffin gives me one last look before closing the door on my nasty expression.

  Jerk. How the fuck did I end up here? Those boys were my world, and now I’m on the outside looking in, but not only that, they’re fucking assholes.

  Once again, I look through my memories, but I come up empty. One day we were friends, and the next…nothing. And I know it’s fucking pathetic to cling to what can never be and lust after a guy who clearly doesn’t fucking care, but how do you forget the one person who truly made you feel alive?

  No moment, no person since has ever made me feel the way he made me feel. When Griffin looked at me with his shining eyes and convinced me I could do anything and be anything, I felt as though I could fly. He was my everything, until I became his nothing.

  Collapsing on the couch, I brood over their harsh words because although they aren’t untrue, it leaves me feeling pathetic and mulish. If I want to have people over, I
should be able to, including a fucking guy.

  I’m not a pathetic loser just because I choose to not put myself out there. Dicks. Hm.

  With a recklessness that makes me feel queasy, I search out Hogan from our Psych class on social media, hoping I will find him by his last name alone, and smile triumphantly when I do because, of course, he’s friends with Griffin.

  Typing out an instant message, I wait for him to respond while I bite my fingernails.

  Is this a good idea? Probably not. I’m putting myself in a vulnerable position, but I refuse to believe every guy I meet is a jerk, and if I want to have a little fun, that’s my right.

  Fuck Griffin for calling me a whore when he’s with a different chick every night. Fuck Max for his insinuations. He doesn’t know shit about me because he hasn’t bothered to know in fucking years.

  Ping.

  Hogan: hey there, I didn’t expect to hear from you. What’s up?

  Chewing on my lip, I hover over the letters, undecided, before huffing and typing out the words. This is the next step in my journey, and I refuse to let anyone else define who I am or what I can do.

  And maybe it’s a mark of my progress that I’m pushing past the shame pulsing under my skin. I’d like to think so anyway.

  Halsey: what are you up to? Do you want to come by?

  Fuck. Closing my eyes, I fight the panic squeezing my throat before taking a deep breath and letting it go. This is fine. Normal. I’m normal. Shit.

  Hogan: yeah? Sure, send me your address

  After typing out a reply, I set about making myself pretty because even though guys think with their other heads, I’m sure it would go a long way if I brushed my damn hair and put on some makeup.

  Twenty minutes later, I answer the door in a tight white tank that shows off the swell of my admittedly small breasts and a short skirt I found at the bottom of my closet.

  As soon as I open the door, terror glides down my spine as Hogan greets me with a broad smile. But I grit my teeth and will it away as his blue eyes dip to my tits, and he steps inside, giving me a half hug.

  What the fuck am I doing? Relax. People do this all the time.

  “Hey,” he says easily, “I was surprised by your message.”

  “Yeah.” My cheeks heat ten thousand degrees because now that he’s here, I don’t know what to do. “Um, you want a drink?”

  “Sure.”

  Guiltily I grab one of Griffin’s beers, before reminding myself that he’s an asshole, and hand it over with a smug smile because as rebellions go, it’s a stupid one, but it makes me happy all the same.

  We settle on the couch, and I turn on the television, but he pays it no mind as he sets his drink on the table and leans in to twirl a piece of my hair between his fingers.

  “So,” he says huskily.

  “So,” I whisper, wishing for butterflies, tingles, anything but the gross sense of wrongness pulling at my veins.

  “You’re so pretty.” He leans in and kisses me softly.

  Opening my mouth to him, I sit still as he explores my mouth, almost clinical in my analysis. It’s not bad, but he’s a little aggressive with his tongue.

  “Halsey,” he moans, pulling me into his lap and over his erection. Oh boy.

  With not a tingle in sight, I practically sag in his lap as he slides his tongue against mine. At the least, although uncomfortable, the past isn’t rearing its fucking ugly head, but I do wonder just how far I plan to go with this as he sucks the sensitive skin of my neck into his mouth.

  Is this it, then? Am I destined to only enjoy sex with Griffin? What a horrible fucking notion.

  I’m strangely relieved that the decision of how to proceed is taken out of my hands when Griffin says behind us, “Am I interrupting?”

  Some part of me must have expected this, although I’m a little confused as to why he’s here until Hogan says good-naturedly, “Hey, that was a banging party. Do you live here?”

  Stiffly, I slide off Hogan’s lap and raise my gaze to Griffin’s, a small thrill rushing through me at the look of rage on his face. If I were stupid, I’d believe it’s jealousy, but I’m not. Still, knowing I got under his skin is a victory in and of itself because he’s constantly trying to get under mine.

  But why?

  “Yes, this is my house.”

  Griffin’s cold eyes bore into mine as Hogan looks between us uncomfortably, and finally sensing the mood, he raises his hands. “Maybe I should go?”

  “Wise idea,” Griffin mutters.

  We both ignore him shuffling to the door, and only do I break my gaze from Griffin’s heated one when Hogan says from the door, “See you around, Halsey.”

  But Griffin growls, and my eyes fly back to his, a surge of heat flying through my veins to find him staring at me with dark eyes and flared nostrils.

  Ignoring the sweet slide, I raise my chin into the silence, mute under his moody reaction. Why is he here? Once again, why does he care who I’m with? It would seem he doth protest too damn much.

  His mouth curves in a wicked smile, and with a shiver, I lean back as he slowly pulls his shirt over his shoulders and drops it on the floor.

  Caught out, I run my eyes over his perfect chest, tracing the glorious muscles quickly before licking my dry lips. “What are you doing?”

  “Fucking you.”

  “Uh, what?” I gasp, goosebumps sailing across my skin as my core spasms at the dark promise. What the fuck is wrong with me?

  “You want dick, right? Why else would that douche be here?” He drops his jeans and palms his rigid length.

  Staring at his erection with wide eyes, I stutter, “Um.”

  “I mean, that was a booty call, right?”

  He raises his brow, and I get the sinking sensation he’s implying I did this to make him jealous, which under ordinary circumstances might have been true, and I will die before I admit. But if he hadn’t come home, he would’ve never known. Right?

  “Yes,” I whisper, shivering when his eyes flare.

  “Take off your clothes. I want to see your pretty tits while I fuck you.”

  My mouth drops at his nasty words. He likes my tits? He’s always dated bitches with big boobs, and mine are nowhere near that. Shit, focus.

  “You think I’m going to have sex with you?” I grimace, annoyed by the tremor in my voice.

  I can’t deny the arousal circling through me viciously, but am I willing to be used and dropped again? There can be no other outcome with Griffin.

  He cocks his head to the side and says, with a strange inflection, “Why not? One dick is as good as the next, right?”

  So, he’s angry about what I said the other day. Well, bully for him. He’s the one that called me a whore, and I couldn’t help but point out his part in my actions. He practically shoved me into the arms of Jason, after all.

  But I’m here now, and the languid feeling surging through me tells me I want this, and more importantly, Griffin can make me feel and I despaired of it ever happening. Fuck it, I’m going to meet the challenge in his eyes.

  Slowly, I stand and pull my shirt over my head, dropping it to the floor before removing my bra. His eyes heat to liquid green as he licks his lips, and I hold back the whimper trembling on my tongue.

  “All of it,” he says huskily, tugging brutally on his length.

  Dropping my gaze to his hand on his dick, I pull off my skirt and panties, standing before him naked. He strokes himself wickedly, his desire pooling at the tip while I watch helplessly, squirming at the sight.

  “Are you wet?”

  Nodding silently, I wait for his direction, so turned on, I’m trembling.

  “Over here,” he rumbles, maneuvering me around the couch and pushing me over the arm.

  Breathless, I wait, gasping when he runs his fingers through my folds and groans under his breath, “Fuck.”

  And in the next instant, he’s filling me so full, so good that I cry out and grab the couch cushions below me, arching into him as
he bottoms out. He grips my hips, and leans into me, his heavy breaths puffing against my back. We’re suspended in time for a moment before he pulls back and pounds into me so roughly, I have to hold on for the ride.

  Closing my eyes against the cascade of doubt slithering through me, I focus on his deep, strained voice as he mutters, “Mm, so tight and perfect.”

  Tingles rush through me at his words as he grabs my hips tightly and rails me, the sound of his legs smacking my ass lewd in the silence. Panting, I clench the cushions between my fingers as pleasure spirals through me wickedly, creating the slide he needs to fuck me deep.

  He’s panting above me, guttural groans escaping his lips as the tip of his dick brushes the sweet spot inside me. And the tide rises so quickly, born out of his need and my pleasure, that I sail over the edge and cry out, spasming around him.

  Euphoria races through me at the sensations, and I buck into him desperately because this is what I want, even if it’s with him.

  “Fuck,” he mutters, bottoming out and grinding deep, causing another pulse of pleasure to race through my core. He’s so close to me, I can feel his heart beating against my back, and that combined with the ache sends me to the edge once more.

  “Oh god.” I flutter helplessly as another orgasm starts through me wildly.

  With a feral grunt, Griff lifts me up and turns me around. “Not god, sweet. Me.”

  I cry out at the change, my orgasm sputtering to a stop painfully. Thankfully, he wastes no time, pressing my back into the wall and pounding into me once more. The surge from before picks up rapidly, and I buck into his hips as best I can as I chase it, my heart in my throat as it pounds through me.

  Through lidded eyes, I watch his face twist into a snarl before it all goes black as I come again, shouting helplessly, “Griffin!”

  “Fuck,” he groans, releasing inside of me, the warm wet splash heavy against my womb.

  “Mm,” I say as he shudders and leans into my chest.

  I’m panting for air, my body like a limp noodle, and only when he stiffens and pulls back do I come back to reality, sighing into the universe as he draws from me slowly. He searches my eyes quickly before he turns away, and dazed, I watch as he casually pulls his jeans back on before facing me, still naked and leaning against the wall.

 

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