Page 71 of Every Silent Lie

I love him.

It shouldn’t make any sense, and yet it makes perfect sense. He’s patient. He’s strong without being forceful. He’s sensitive without being soft. The fact he’s insanely handsome just feels like a bonus. The fact I know he’s about to set my world alight when he makes love to me is another bonus. Add the small matter of him not sleeping with anyone for five years makes him all the more special to me, and I truly hate myself in this moment for using sex as my escape for so long.

I love him because he didn’t give up on me, which means he’s found me.

But most of all, I love him because he’s so fucking incredible and has shown me that I am capable of loving again.

But only if it’s him.

Dec’s eyes narrow a little, as if he’s reading my mind and not liking my thoughts. It makes me blink and look away, suddenly aware that my thought process is outlandish. My conclusions are all irrelevant if it’s unrequited, because then Dec becomes just another something that destroys me.

“Hey.” He props himself up on one elbow and takes my jaw, forcing my face to his. “What’s wrong?”

I shake my head, unable to speak with his hand clenching my face, and Dec studies me, the whole situation suddenly serious, lust and passion making way for something else, and I’m not sure what.

His hold relaxes, his face coming closer to mine, eyes darting across my face. “Can you breathe when we’re close?” he asks quietly, his voice low and thick, as if he’s got his own lump going on in his throat. “Because I can’t.”

I inhale, pushing my hands over his shoulders, shaking my head mildly. “I haven’t been able to breathe properly since I met you,” I say, feeling brave. Jumping in feet first. “And it’s for the best reasons.”

He swoops in and kisses me deeply, rolling us, kissing me harder, hands all over my face, my head, my back as I straddle him, until he’s rolling us again, back into the middle of the bed, trapping me beneath him. My lips burn from the friction of our mouths, my tongue beginning to ache.

And yet I know I could never stop this, not if my life depended on it. So when Dec tears his mouth away, gasping for air, my instinct to reach for his neck and yank him back down can’t be held back. He obliges, palms buried in the mattress either side on my head, his thick thighs straddling my waist, his dick spilling more precum all over my belly.

“Come here,” he murmurs, his arms swelling beautifully as he pushes into his hands, resting back on his heels, making his thick thighs double in width. Taking my hands, he pulls and helps me onto his lap. My muscles tense to hold me up as I gaze down between us to his hand fisting himself at the root. Air catches at the back of my throat, my mouth watering. I’ve got to kiss him again. Kiss him while he works himself. I home in on his neck, forcing his head back on a broken moan. His throat taut, my lips brush across the tight expanse of spiky skin as he holds me close with one big palm splayed across my lower back. “Lift” he orders, turning his face into mine and pulling back so he can see me do as I’m told. My thigh muscles scream as I rise, my buttocks pulling. Dec’s gaze runs loops around my body, my hands resting lightly on his shoulders.

He bites down on his lip as the wet tip of his arousal nudges against my entrance, and I pull in air sharply, my clit tingling, begging for friction. I need to feel every hard, wet, hot inch of him sliding into me to the hilt and watch his face as I take it all.

I release my muscles and lower a fraction, watching in fascination as the veins in his neck bulge, his nostrils flaring. The fire inside rages, begging to be quenched by penetration.

Down a little farther.

I hold my breath, hold his eyes. He starts to quiver. “More, Camryn,” he grates, bringing his hand to my shoulder and massaging firmly, his hand on my back slipping down to my arse.

I drop a little more and cry out.

“God damn,” he barks, his chin dropping to his chest.

No, no, no. I slip my finger under and ease his face up to mine. “Can you breathe when we’re close?” I whisper, slowly shaking my head from side to side, in so much awe. “Because I can’t.”

“Fuck,” he groans, securing my neck in his palm and taking control, kissing me on a desperate murmur of my name. I ease down the rest of the way, choking on the fullness and the pleasure, my spine going ramrod straight and my torso forcing itself closer to his.

“My God, you feel so deep.” I work hard to adjust to him, being forced to take deep breaths and hold still for a few moments before I brave moving.

“I don’t want this to end,” he breathes across my skin.

“Me neither.” I start rocking into him, trying to maintain the pace of our kiss but struggling when my senses are being overloaded.

“Lean back.”

I reluctantly leave his mouth and recline, and his chest rolls as he flexes into me, his grey gaze hooded and lazy. Our hips move in perfect circles, my body naturally following his unspoken instructions. His cheeks blow out, his hands taking my hips, mine grabbing his shoulders. And he watches me.

Pumps harder.

Breathes faster.

The veins in his neck throb, his eyes darken. All of the signs of Dec coasting toward detonation only encourages my own climax to steam forward. “I’m coming,” I blurt in a panic.

“Fucking hell.” He shoots up onto his knees, bringing me with him, both his hands cupping my arse. I feel the swell and kick of him inside me a second before I feel the buildup of pressure inside me sizzle and bang.