Page 91 of The Next Lie

Her hips lift into my hand.

I press my palm against her clit, slow and firm, giving her pressure before I give her more. Her breath catches, and she tries to twist her wrists free. Not to get away. To touch me.

I hold her there anyway and slide two fingers inside her.

Her mouth opens on a silent gasp, and her body tightens around me. I watch her face. Every flicker. Every hitch. Every time her eyes try to flutter closed, I slow until she forces them open again.

“That’s it,” I murmur. “Stay.”

“I hate how good you are at that.”

“At what?”

“Knowing when I’m leaving.”

I curl my fingers, and her complaint breaks apart.

She is so responsive it makes my teeth ache. Anger and grief have stripped her nerves raw, and every touch lands like a match. She rocks into my hand, chasing more, and I give it to her until she is trembling hard enough that I have to brace my forearm beside her head.

“Ever. Please.”

I withdraw my fingers.

She makes a furious sound.

I push my sweats down just enough to free myself, then reach for my wallet from the pocket I left folded with my shirt. The condom is there because I am practical and because being near Reva without preparing for my own bad decisions would have been stupid.

Her gaze tracks the movement. “You carry those to training?”

“Just when you’re involved.”

“You don’t need to. I’m on the pill. And clean.”

I lower to kiss her, tossing the condom aside. “Same.”

“You’re on the pill, too? That’s ama⁠—”

I surge inside with a single powerful thrust, shutting her up. “Smart ass.”

Her moan echoes up into the beams, changing to a giggle at my accusation.

I stop when I’m fully seated, my forehead dropping to hers. She’s tight around me, hot and shaking, her wrists small beneath my hand. My body wants to move. My head wants to memorize.

I do both.

“I’ve got you,” I whisper. “I’m not letting go.”

I don’t even know why I say the words. Maybe because that’s what she needed to hear when she was a child. That on her darkest day, someone had her. Someone wasn’t letting her go.

She stares up at me, her giggles quieted, and raises her lips to kiss me.

Then I start to move.

Slow at first, each thrust deep enough to make her breath stutter. The mats shift beneath us. Her legs hook around my waist. Her heels dig into me, urging me harder, and I give her a little more. Enough to make her body jolt. Enough to make her fingers flex against my grip.

Her eyes stay open, intent on mine.

Good girl.