Page 25 of Entwined Lies (Entwined #1)

I traced my hand down her body, fingers slipping between her legs, pressing just enough to pull a gasp from her.

Her hips lifted into my hand, a needy sound escaping her as she moved. But when her breathing picked up, right as her body melted into the touch, I pulled my fingers back and brought them to her mouth.

“Be a good girl,” I growled, pushing my fingers against her lips. “Suck them clean for me. Nice and slow.”

She obeyed without a second thought, mouth opening, pulling my fingers in deep, her tongue teasing every inch. Her free hand found my cock, wrapping around it, stroking me slowly.

I caught both her wrists and pinned them above her head with one hand and held her firmly in place.

“It’s only fair if you let me touch you.”

She jerked her arms, fighting me, but I only tightened my hold.

“Fair’s a luxury you don’t get right now. Keep pushing… and I’ll have your wrists tied before you can blink.”

She moaned, but she didn’t stop squirming—and fuck, I loved it.

I leaned down, dragging my mouth across her chest, slow and greedy, her moans getting louder, messier, with every scrape of my teeth.

When my mouth closed over her nipple, sucking hard, she arched into me with a broken sound—and when my fingers slipped back inside her, she clenched down so tight I nearly fucking lost it .

I dragged my thumb along her cheek and leaned in, my breath hot against her mouth.

“I already know how tight you are around me bare. What I don’t know is if you’ll let me have it again.”

Yeah, I’d made a choice that night. Not by accident.

Not in the heat of the moment. I chose to take her bare.

It was reckless. It was fucked up. I knew exactly what I was risking.

And I had no one to blame but myself. After that, I swore it wouldn’t happen ever again.

Swore I’d keep my head straight. But I’d seen her take the pill the other night.

No big deal. Like it was just another habit, and thank God for that.

Because looking at her now—lips parted, hips shifting, eyes begging—I wasn’t sure it would’ve changed a damn thing if she hadn’t.

She was a fucking drug. Potent. Addictive. And I was already past the point of no return.

She bit her lip, eyes locked on mine. “Don’t hold back.”

I didn’t smile. I grinned.

That one sentence hit like a shot of adrenaline straight to the center of my already-questionable judgment.

Every unholy scenario I’d ever imagined lined up like it was auditioning for the main event—loud, depraved, and absolutely starving for stage time.

But I had manners. I was keeping it soft.

Sweet. Controlled. And honestly? I was proud of myself. This was me on my best behavior.

“You’re gonna be a good girl and take every inch exactly how I give it to you.”

I pressed into her torturously slowly, savoring every second as she clenched around me, her body begging for more.

Her hips arched up, pressing against me, trying to take control.

“Stop,” I said.

But she kept moving like she didn’t hear the warning in my tone, or maybe she just liked testing fate .

I tried to steady myself and shift my focus to anything else—body bags, black-market deals, the endless nightmare of Swiss bank interest rates. But it was useless.

“I said, fucking stop.” My voice dropped sharply, my hand tightening until she couldn’t mistake the warning. “Don’t make me say it again.”

She flashed me a smile, that wild spark lighting up her eyes, and rolled her hips.

“Make me.”

And God help me; it was pushing me past the edge of reason.

I pulled out fast, reaching over without a word, grabbing the belt and wipes off the nightstand. I flipped her onto her stomach, her surprised gasp filling the room as I pinned her wrists behind her back, securing them with the belt, and pulling it tight.

She fought it, of course, she did, but the leather didn’t give an inch.

I rolled her over, moved between her legs, and grabbed her hips, hauling her up onto me until her knees bracketed my ribs.

Her chin lifted, proud, defiant, those blazing eyes daring me to take it further. Completely vulnerable, yet staring at me like she had the upper hand.

Bold move, considering you’re the one bound, I thought.

I slipped my hand between the mattress and the headboard, wrapping my fingers around the cold steel of my gun. Pulled it out slowly, keeping my eyes locked dead on hers.

She went still, shock flashing across her face, breathing shallow.

I held back a chuckle, racked the slide back with a sharp click, the bullet tumbling loose onto the bed.

Her gaze flicked down, then back to me, her eyes widening as I released the magazine, pressing the rounds out one by one.

Each bullet dropped into my palm in a steady rhythm, my silent count lingering between us.

By the time the last round hit my hand and I set them aside, her breathing had quickened, and her focus locked on my every move.

I checked the slide once more before flipping the safety back on with a click. Just to be sure—no surprises. She was meant to lose her mind, not her pulse.

Reaching for the wipe, my eyes locked on hers, and I cleaned the gun.

Her lips parted, her eyes darting to my hands again—wide, waiting, as if she didn’t know whether to go with the flow or run.

“Curious what’s coming, aren’t you?”

Her gaze moved from the gun back to me, a hint of nervous laughter breaking through.

“I can’t decide if I want to know… or rethink all my life choices.”

I let out a low, amused laugh, leaned back, and pressed the cool metal between us, the gun grazing her just enough to make her breath catch.

Her smile faded.

“Ride it nice and slow. I want that gun dripping by the time you’re done.”

My hands tightened on her hips as she sank down, her whole body tight like a drawn bow.

Her breath caught. She locked eyes with me, almost daring, but there was a flicker there—hesitation, need.

Isabelle started moving, hips rocking in slow, aching circles. Every roll of her body dragged another broken sound from her throat, and fuck, she looked good like this—fighting for control, trying to keep it together.

She shifted, pressing down harder, desperate for more, but I tightened my grip, holding her just where I wanted.

“You’re fucking stunning like this,” I growled, hands gripping her harder. “Don’t rush. Take your time. Make a mess all over me. ”

This was exactly where I wanted her—desperate, caught up in each torturous second, dripping against my stomach.

Every grind pressed her ass back to graze the tip of my cock, making my head spin.

It was a perfect, maddening tease, and it took every ounce of control not to flip her over and fuck her hard enough she forgot anyone else ever existed.

A frustrated moan escaped her as she tried to press down just a bit harder, but I kept her locked in the same agonizing rhythm, each shift bringing her closer, but never letting her reach exactly what she was after.

Biting her lip, she glanced down between us and then back up to me, her eyes begging me to let her take more.

I was fucking spellbound. Every nerve locked onto her, soaking in every detail as she moved against the gun with unfiltered, aching need.

Her hips rolled, each movement dragging me deeper under her spell.

I was drowning in it—the way her thighs tensed, chasing more.

The way her breath hitched like her body couldn’t quite keep up.

The way her eyes stayed locked on mine, dark and wrecked, like she needed me to see it. All of it.

And I kept her there, right on the edge.

I’d spent too long imagining it—obsessing over it, building it up in my head like a fucking sickness. But every twisted fantasy, every version of her I’d created in the dark when I couldn’t sleep… they all fell flat against the reality in front of me. None of them came close to this.

Because this wasn’t fantasy.

It was her .

Real. Raw. Needy. Mine .

And it was already more than I knew how to handle.

“Seeing you like this…I’ve never wanted to take something so perfect and ruin it completely,” I said, moved the gun aside, and untied her wrists .

The second her hands were free, she clutched my shoulders, her nails biting into my skin as I pulled her down onto me, groaning at how fucking perfect she was around me.

She started to move, but I held her hips firmly, stopping her just short.

“Grind against me, just like you did with the gun. Make me feel every inch, slow and deep.”

Her trembling gasps, the way her fingers dug into my skin, and the rocking of her hips left me barely holding on.

“You have no idea what you’re doing to me. I want to savor every second but at the same time just fuck you until we’re both ruined.”

I clenched my jaw, fighting to keep the last bit of control.

She leaned in, her lips grazing mine. “You’re holding back when I’m soaked for you, waiting for you to fuck me so hard I feel it for days.”

As if to drive her point home, she clenched around me.

That was it. Any hope of taking it slow died right there.

I rolled her beneath me.

She laughed, but it died fast when I shifted my weight and slid my hand up to her throat.

I tightened my grip just enough to feel her pulse jackhammer under my fingers, just enough to remind her exactly who was in control.

She stiffened, gasping—but it turned into a moan when I thrust into her, grinding slowly, holding back by a fucking thread. Every whimper, every desperate little sound spilling out of her mouth made me want to fuck her harder.

I grabbed her wrists, slammed them into the mattress, pinning her down.

Her moans broke wild, hips rising, straining, desperate.

“Come for me, baby. I want to feel every second of it. ”

She shattered with a broken sob, her whole body locking up under me as she came, hard and helpless.

I held her there, pinned and shaking, feeling every desperate little pulse of her clenching around me as I moved.

It sent me right over the edge.

My world narrowed to just the feel of her—tight, wet, fucking perfect—as I came hard, completely lost in her.

I collapsed onto her, chest heaving, the high still pulsing through my blood like fire.

We just lay there, wrecked, our breaths tangled, hearts pounding.

I shoved my face into her neck, lips brushing sweat and skin, trying to anchor myself in the way she smelled. A mix of coconut, sex, and that something uniquely her that drove me absolutely fucking wild.

She let out a soft giggle, her body writhing as I kissed along her neck, each one making her twitch.

Shifting slightly, I pressed a kiss to her collarbone.

“You okay, baby?”

“Yeah… more than okay,” she said with a laugh.

I eased off her, but was unable to look away.

She was so fucking beautiful, sprawled out on the bed, totally wrecked.

My mouth curled into a smug smirk, knowing I’d left her looking this perfect.

Isabelle shifted slightly, her body curling into me.

“Stay like this for a bit?” she murmured, soft like it might break something if she spoke louder.

I shrugged like I wasn’t already clinging to the moment. “I’m not going anywhere. Unless… you’re over it already.”

The words were out before I could stop them, too sharp, too telling .

Fuck. What the hell was I even saying? Normally, I had this routine down cold—keep it light, make sure they left with a smile, and keep myself out of it.

A little extra time was just a courtesy.

Never more. But with her? She meant more than I’d planned, and that fact was bleeding through, even with every attempt to keep it under wraps.

With a quiet laugh to mask how rattled I was, I wrapped an arm around her, my fingers drifting through her hair.

Her body melted against mine, breathing slow, even. Like she belonged there.

I lay there, staring up at the ceiling, listening to the rhythm of her breaths, feeling her skin on mine.

For the first time in years, I didn’t want to be anywhere else but right here—holding her like this.

I was… content. Like I’d finally let myself settle into something real.

It was unfamiliar. Unsettling. I’d spent years avoiding shit like this.

And now? It was sinking its teeth in like it belonged.

She had no clue what she’d done to me. Hell, maybe I didn’t either. But fuck, I was already screwed.