Throne of Truth (Truth and Lies Duet #2)(88)

“I’m coming.” I thought it would come out as a whisper.

It came out as a scream as I did exactly what he’d told me to do and let loose.

My body took control with the speed and power of a runaway train. The orgasm grabbed me, squeezed me, obliterated me.

Clenches and waves, I milked Penn’s fingers until I moaned unintelligently.

He kissed me deep, soft, languid as I came down from the most piercing high.

“I knew you could come fast.” His lips caressed my cheek, moving to my jaw. “That first night when you said yes—in the alley before I gave you back to David to take you home. Remember?”

I blinked, dragging myself back to human rather than liquid bliss. “When you made me come against the wall?”

A smug glint filled his gaze. “Yes.”

I shared a piece of me, giving him access to who I was. “I worried you’d take me that night. That I’d lose my virginity against a brick wall.”

“Did you prefer losing it in this very bed?”

“I did.” I smiled.

“You came that night too with my cock inside you.” His eyes rolled as if reliving heaven. “Fuck, you were so receptive. Have you always been that way? That sensitive?”

I nodded. “It comes in handy when I’m on my own and need a quickie.”

“You’ll never be on your own again.”

I arched up, seeking his lips. “You too.”

I wasn’t prepared for the way his arms latched around me with a vicious hold. He hugged me as if thanking me for becoming his. Telling me with actions that loneliness had been his cross to bear for so long, and now he no longer had to carry it.

His lips sought mine again.

And our conversation ended.

Just like that.





Chapter Forty-One


Penn


I’D WANTED TO make this last.

I wanted to memorize every inch of Elle so she wasn’t just a girl in my past who I’d mistakenly despised or a woman in my present I was fucking.

She was my future.

She was my home, and I wanted to know every freckle and birthmark, every ticklish spot and turn-on zone.

But that was before she sucked me off then came in two seconds flat as if she couldn’t stand having my hands on her and not reward me with every drop of her pleasure.

Slow would have to come later. Along with fun and toys and games and all the other exciting stuff we had to look forward to.

This was a hello after months of painful separation.

I wanted her heart thundering against mine, body to body, soul to motherfucking soul.

Without a word, I wedged my hips between her spread legs. My cock throbbed to come. My back locked as Elle grabbed the base of me, guiding me to her entrance.

Her eyes blazed blue as she rubbed my crown through her wetness, torturing both of us, coating me in her orgasm, begging me to do whatever I damn well wanted.

And I wanted.

So fucking much.

She was passionate, free, a lover and friend and partner. She was no longer a stranger or a spoiled brat I’d hated.

She’s mine.

My lips locked together as I pressed the first inch inside her.

A low, feminine moan echoed in her chest. Her legs opened wider, showing me everything, making me drunk and embarrassingly close to losing control.

Our gazes never unlocked; I looked at her with utmost awe. She bit her bottom lip, reading me better than I could read myself. Knowing I’d reached my limit on gentle and needed to be a beast.

She clenched around me, giving me permission to let go.

Slamming forward, I slid straight inside her. She spread wide and wet. A cry tumbled from her mouth and into mine as I kissed her fast and messy.

My arms went around her shoulders and nape, cuddling her close even while my hips attacked her.

The bed rocked, our breathing tore, her legs looped over my back, her ankles digging into my spine.

“Jesus,” I bit out.

“Yes...God, yes...” Her fingers landed in my hair, twisting almost cruelly, adding fine-edged pain.

Christ, she shouldn’t have done that.

I lost it.

Utterly fucking lost it.

My body was hard as stone, my stomach slapping against hers, my balls drawn up in preparation of shooting everything I had into this woman.

Her pussy clung to me every time I withdrew to slam inside her again. Her back arched until her breasts stuck to my chest, and I held her so close, gluing us together, slick with sweat and need.

The friction was too much. Every wet ridge of her, every hard inch of me. I pushed up, she pushed down; I thrust in, she welcomed. She rocked harder, her hips moving in delicious circles, rubbing her clit on the base of my cock.

I loved that she chased her own pleasure. That she wasn’t afraid of letting go. Of learning me, revealing her, sharing what worked for us both.

“Christ, you feel good,” I panted. “You feel so fucking good.”

“You’re mine, Penn. You always have been.” Her lips found mine. We knotted ourselves into each other until I didn’t know where my body ended and hers began.

The burn in my quads, spine, and cock smoldered until smoke and fire erupted. The irrefutable need to release came with agony laced with greed.

“Shit, I’m gonna come.” I rode her harder, driving faster, turning sex into mania.