Pitiful lies, p.4
Pitiful Lies, page 4
My dick is aching, but she deserves more than to have me wake her up for sex. Mind blowing sex, for sure. But Giselle needs to understand what she is to me.
Hell, I need to understand what she is to me.
But in order for any of us to do that, I have to act better than I’ve been. So I content myself with wrapping my arms around her hot little body and snuggling her close.
Imagine that? Angel fucking Fury cuddling the night away with a soft woman in his arms.
I want to laugh at the irony, but I don’t. This feels too important for that.
She feels too important.
We’re in Virginia, and the truth is it’s taking twice as long to get home with all the stops I insist on making.
I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I never have to play games with women. Hell. They usually climb over each other to get into my bed.
But not her.
In fact, Giselle seems hell bent on staying away from me, and maybe that’s why I want her so badly.
It’s a mind fuck, for sure.
Maybe it’s her playing hard to get that’s got me so hot for her, but I doubt it. Two long ass months since I’ve seen her, touched her, and it feels so right.
I suck in a breath, opening my mouth against her bountiful curls, curling my body around hers. And it’s perfect. For the first time in all those weeks since she left, I feel myself relax.
And I finally sleep.
CHAPTER FIVE-GISELLE
My eyelids flutter, but I am determined to eke out every second I can get of whatever magical slumber I somehow fell into last night.
Mmm. Feels good. Warm.
I sigh and stretch and that’s when I feel it, er, him.
Uh oh.
My eyes open, and I freeze in place. Behind me, or should I say coiled around me like the serpent he is, is Angel.
The man is like a giant anaconda.
So is his dick, a naughty voice whispers inside my head, and I bite my lip.
He has one arm beneath me, and it’s wrapped around my chest where he is holding onto my breast beneath my tank top.
My nipples are hard. Angel’s callused hand and rough arm feel so good pressed against them.
The need to moan is growing.
His other arm is snaked over my hip, past my soft belly, and his hand is buried inside my shorts.
This fucker is cupping my pussy in his sleep.
Truly, he is holding onto it. His fingers are positioned like my pussy is a freaking bowling ball.
That big hand of his is right over my sex, fingers right inside my wet, hot folds.
Like my vagina is his own personal property.
Like he fucking owns it.
I want to be angry.
I want to shove him away.
But if I am being honest, he feels so good there.
And to my utter shame, I wish he did. I wish Angel owned my pussy.
If only he wanted me like that.
But he doesn’t.
Angel isn’t possessive about me like that.
He’s a born flirt, a womanizer. And he’s human, despite all evidence to the contrary.
I am talking about his size and stamina, of course.
He looks like a superhero, or rather a supervillain. Like if some mad scientist took Thor’s body and Loki’s dark good looks and combined them to make one super fly motherfucker.
But Angel is no hero. He’s not even a villain, though I am sure he does bad shit.
He’s just a man. And men who like pussy don’t generally turn it down when it’s offered.
That’s my fault. My mistake for giving away the milk and expecting him to buy the cow. Or whatever that fucking horribly sexist saying is.
Angel is just so much. He’s fucking gorgeous and his body is to die for.
Literally.
I have no doubt he could crush a human skull with those giant, frying pan sized hands of his.
Probably as easily as he can make me come with them.
His fingers slide deeper, like he’s testing my wetness, and this time I do moan.
Why does this feel so good?
Because its him. That’s why. And I am not strong enough to deny myself this bit of forbidden pleasure.
I spread my legs wider, allowing him better access. And like the serpent I know he is, the viper lying in wait for the right opportunity, he strikes.
Angel pounces with zero hesitation. His blunt-tipped fingers delve between my pussy lips, and this time I do moan. Loudly.
Fuck.
I mean, am I wrong to react to his touch? I don’t really think so.
Besides, it is not like there is a choice. I can’t help it. My response to him is automatic. Like my body is conditioned to submit to his.
He’s so damn sexy. His touch seems designed to turn me into a panting puddle of please do me now goo, even though he is still asleep and likely doesn’t quite know who he is touching.
Damn him.
I guess I was caught up in Anna and Maria’s amazing love stories and I thought for a second maybe I would have one too. But I’m not made for that.
I know who and what I am.
Angel and me, we don’t match.
I’m too short, too chubby, and I have a big mouth. I can imagine what kind of woman he usually dates, and I doubt it is someone with a size sixteen on good days ass.
To put it plainly, I am not everyone’s cup of tea.
The admission kind of breaks my heart. But I don’t give in to that.
So, what if he looks like a Greek demigod come to life especially with that giant tattoo, the one that is supposed to protect you against the evil eye, inked across his throat?
It’s no reason for a girl to lose her mind or her free will. I’m human. I have needs. And if he wants to take care of them while we are on this nut job of a road trip, who am I to deny either of us?
Angel never made declarations or promises. And yeah, he hurt me, but that’s on me. I allowed it.
I can’t blame him for taking what I so freely offered. It’s my fault for not asking what it meant at the time.
The sex between us was good.
It can still be good, my inner slut says, but I squeeze my eyes shut, and whimper at the feel of him teasing along my slit, stopping when he reaches my hard little clit.
Fuck. Yeah. He’s good at this.
So good, I can’t even bring myself to look at another man, much less play with one of my adult toys. It just isn’t the same.
Yeah, I’m in a funk. I’ll get over it. I swear.
But right now, with his big dick pressing against me, one hand on my tit, and the other gliding between my slick folds, well, I’m only human, too.
I feel the hard bar of his cock pressed against my ass and I bite my lip to stop from moaning even if I can’t help but wiggle against it.
“Fuck, Koukla, you’re so goddamn wet. Tell me what you want, and I’ll give it to you,” he rumbles against my ear, and I gasp as he pushes two thick digits into my sopping wet heat.
He doesn’t stop working those fingers in and out of my channel, and I can’t help it. I press back against his cock, wishing it was filling me instead of his hand.
But no. I can’t do that with him. Not without risking my heart.
“Tell me, Koukla, or I’ll stop,” he growls, and nips my neck with his teeth.
He’s pinching my nipple with his other hand, and he starts to pull away.
But I stop him.
Fuck, I’m so weak.
I grab onto the wrist of the hand between my legs and I hold him there.
“Tell me,” Angel demands mercilessly.
His voice is so deep and gravelly he sounds like a demon. And I fucking love it.
Stuck between a rock and a hard place, literally, I am aware I should be shoving him away. I should yell or scream at him.
But the truth is, I’ve missed this. His body. His energy. The way he makes me feel.
He already knows I am turned on. My arousal is soaking my shorts and dripping down his hand.
What have I got to lose?
“I w-want you to make me come. Please, Angel,” I beg.
“That’s my Good Girl,” he growls.
Then he starts to move his hand.
And I see stars.
CHAPTER SIX-ANGEL
After a few solid hours of sleep, I wake up with Sisi in my arms and my hands inside her clothes.
Even deep in my slumber I want this woman.
She smells so good. Like cinnamon apple pie. My fucking favorite.
She’s so warm and sweet. I slide my hand lower, past her soft curls, parting her slick lips, and I groan deep in my throat when I find what I’ve been searching for.
Goddamn.
Little Doll’s cunt is so fucking soaked. And it’s all for me. I know I shouldn’t touch her when she isn’t awake yet, but that doesn’t stop me.
Giselle is trying to deny whatever this is between us, but I won’t let her. This is one where I plan on winning. And yeah, I’ll fight dirty if I have to.
She moans and I swear my eyes go crossed. Her pussy is sucking my fingers in, begging me to go deeper, and I oblige.
She is so good. So fucking slick.
Hot.
Tight.
Wet.
Perfect.
And mine.
I’m so goddamn hard I can’t help but rub my dick on her ass while I finger fuck her into her wakefulness.
I know the second her eyes open, and I hold myself still, waiting for her to acknowledge me and the effect I have on her.
Poor Little Doll.
Her cunt pulses around me, and I know she wants it. She’s starved for it.
For me.
That last part is important. Fireworks seem to go off inside my body every time I am with this woman, and I’m fucking positive she feels the same.
I won’t even entertain the idea anyone else has touched her since she took off for Florida. If I do, I’ll go crazy.
Instead of dwelling on those dark thoughts, I think about the soft woman in my arms.
“Fuck, Koukla, you’re so goddamn wet. Tell me what you want, and I’ll give it to you,” I say, plunging my fingers into her pussy.
She arches her back, allowing me to slide in deeper and pressing that sweet ass of hers against my cock.
I am ready to blow.
“Tell me, Koukla, or I’ll stop,” I tell her, biting her on the neck.
I love that spot. And how she reacts whenever I nip and suck on the sweet skin there.
Her pussy clenches. I pluck her nipple with my other hand but force myself to loosen my hold. I need her to say those words before I go any farther.
I think she’s going to let me go and I want to howl in defeat, but at the last moment she clutches my wrist and I fucking grin.
I got her now.
“Tell me.”
Seconds stretch between us, and I swear if she moves that ass against me one more time I’m coming with or without her.
Thankfully, my Little Doll wants me just as much as I want her. I just have to get her to admit it outside of bed. But I’ll work on that later.
“I w-want you to make me come. Please, Angel,” she begs me.
“That’s my Good Girl.”
I growl as I press my dick against her ass, grinding into her as I fuck her on my fingers, whispering dirty things in her ear.
“You’re so fucking hot for it, aren’t you, Little Doll?” I ask as I feel her start to spasm.
The sounds of her slick folds meeting my thrusts echo in the room, along with our heavy breathing. But it’s not enough. I need more.
I press her down so her back is flat on the mattress and I move over her, kneeling between her splayed legs.
Her tank top is flimsy and light. She’d been teasing me with it all damn day. So, when I grab it and pull down, the sound of the straps snapping is like a fucking battle cry.
Both her bountiful breasts bounce free, and fuck, I can’t take my eyes off her. She’s so damn hot. Her green eyes are lust-glazed and that mouth of hers drops open on a silent scream.
So sexy.
Beautiful.
Mine.
“Angel,” she moans my name, her hands running up whatever part of me she can reach.
I have three fingers buried in her cunt, and with my other hand, I’m reaching into my boxers. I pull my dick out, and her eyes go wide.
“Fuck,” I growl, squeezing my dick.
I know what I’m about to do is sick. Depraved. I sure as fuck never did it before. But I feel a compulsion to do it, and I’m not a man who leashes his inner beast very often.
Sure, I promised myself I wouldn’t bury my dick inside her until she asks me to. So, I won’t. Not that.
But if Little Doll gets to come, then so do I. And this is what I want. I’m not asking her, and I doubt she will mind right now, since she’s already half gone chasing her orgasm.
I can apologize later if she wants. But if I’m not coming in her, I figure this is the next best thing.
“Goddamn,” I grunt, stroking my dick in time with the fingers I’m filling her with.
“Angel!” she screams, back arching, lifting her tits in the air for me.
It’s too much. It’s not enough. My eyes widen. I take her in. The feel of her pussy fluttering around my fingers. The sound of her long, keening moan. The way she looks, so fucking perfect, with her tank top torn, her shorts pulled down, my fingers inside her cunt, and my name spilling from her lips.
And that’s when I join her.
I rear up, sliding my fingers out of her pussy and lifting them to my mouth. I suck on them, savoring her heady flavors.
My cock jumps in my grip. It pulses. And I come all over her.
I can’t take my eyes off my Koukla as my dick spits cum all over her soft, tanned flesh.
I can’t help it. I am coming like it’s my first time, covering her in thick white ropes of my seed.
“Angel,” she whimpers, and I grunt in reply.
She’s a mess. We both are. But she’s never looked better.
And I let the vision burn into my brain before I run my hands over her, smearing it onto her skin.
Giselle is trying to catch her breath, but she doesn’t stop my caveman display. In fact, her celery green eyes seem to glow with something primal.
The air between us is charged with whatever lust-filled craze we just shared. And I grin at the fact this little slip of a woman’s crazy might just match mine.
I’m sure gonna find out.
CHAPTER SEVEN-GISELLE
“You want a coffee or something, Koukla?” Angel asks, and I refuse to even look at him.
He sighs, shaking his head as he places an order in the drive through.
We already used the restrooms at the gas station a few minutes ago. He orders two medium iced cappuccinos, and I admit I am surprised.
I figured him for a black coffee kinda guy.
Fine.
I am acting like a brat. And I know it.
Truth is, I’m kind of salty after waking up in bed with Angel.
The feel of his long, thick dick, rock hard against my ass. The way he looked jerking himself off, covering me in his cum, as he finished me with his fingers inside my pussy has me in a sour mood.
No, he did nothing wrong. I did not say no. He even told me to tell him what I wanted, and yeah, it was exactly what he did.
I was a willing participant.
Fine. I’ll admit it.
Angel did everything right. And that’s what has me so mad.
Of course, the jerk is just sitting in his dumb car, grinning like the Cheshire Cat as he raps his thumbs against the steering wheel.
Why? I have no idea.
His balls couldn’t have been as blue as my ovaries.
I mean, I have no misgivings. I’m sure Angel has been with a dozen women since I left for my parents’ condo.
If he has, then they must not have satisfied him, my inner voice reasons, and I roll my eyes.
Angel didn’t lie. He didn’t even have to try. That’s how pathetic I am. All he had to do was snap his fingers, and I caved.
No promises. No seduction. Just raw animal attraction. And I was his.
Fuck.
I shouldn’t have let him do that. It just confuses me. And I hate feeling this way.
“I can hear your thoughts, Little Doll, but I don’t know why you’re so angry. You wanted it just as much as I did. Come on, talk to me,” he cajoles.
He’s not wrong. I did want it. Maybe that’s why I feel like shit about the whole thing.
Clearing the air isn’t easy for me. I know I have this rep of being confrontational. Like tossing beer in Angel’s face when I thought he was Nico.
But the truth is, it’s easier for me to stick up for my family or my friends than it is for me to stick up for myself.
“I know,” I reply, and pause while he gets our drinks.
I take them from him and sit them down in their holders. Then, I busy myself opening our environmentally safe straws and pushing them through the plastic tops as he pulls out of the lot.
They’re not cardboard, and I am glad. I hate those. Nothing ruins coffee faster than having to sip it through a paper straw.
Anyway, the action is so normal. Just something a million other couples do every day when driving together.
But it’s nothing we ever shared.
Our relationship has always been hot, frantic, sexual encounters, and none of the tenderness or normalcy others seem to have achieved with little effort.
I want that. And even though I am embarrassed by my need, it’s time I own it.
I know it’s a bad idea to get involved with Angel again. I just have to tell him.
“We’ll be home in a couple of hours. You can nap if you want to,” he says, breaking my reverie.
He looks pensive, like he cares, and that does something inside me I know I need to ignore.
It’s a dangerous path to tread, thinking this man has feelings for me. He doesn’t. I know he doesn’t.
“I’m not tired,” I reply.
“Okay. You wanna talk?” he asks, surprising me.
“I do. I mean, I have to tell you,” I start, but it’s so damn hard. I huff a breath and turn my head away. I can’t look at him and say this.
