Page 35 of Little Liar

Fuck. Now I’m mad again.

She leans up on one arm. “Are you sure? It doesn’t bother you that we’re brother and sister?”

I quirk a brow. This is the best day of my life—why is she even having to ask this? Was it an issue when we were in the tent, or when she was grinding her pretty little cheerleader ass against my dick while she thought I was asleep, or when she actually did touch me?

I think my little sister has a somnophilia kink. Not that I’m complaining.

Stop saying that.

A blush creeps up her chest and neck, her hair like a dark curtain around us. I wrap a lock around my finger, wondering ifshe can see how much my hands are shaking. I pull it enough to draw her closer to me. The redness spreads to her cheeks, and damn, does her nervousness make me feel less anxious about this entire thing.

“Remember Mom told us not to kiss on the lips when we were younger? You said we were allowed to because we were siblings, but it got us into trouble. This will, undoubtedly, get us into even more trouble.”

All I can think about is how kissable her lips are, how soft her facial features are, even when she comes. I keep playing with her hair, bringing it to my nose to inhale the scent that keeps me grounded. Her. All her.

Since I was a kid, it’s been a thing to seek out when I was feeling in my head—holding my new foster sister while sniffing her hair and feeling far too confused about why she was my anchor.

I’m tugging her hair harder, and she’s lowering onto my body, closing the infinitesimal distance. “Malachi,” she whispers nervously. “Are you sure?”

Shut up, I sign, needing her closer, closer, until we can’t even breathe without sharing the same air. She looks at the door, then back down at me before her nose nudges mine, sliding down further.

My lungs aren’t working, and I think I might go into shock—she’s right there, tilting her head, and everything ceases to exist as her lips press to mine.

I hope Olivia is aware that everything is now changing.

Us. Her life. Mine. Our future.

We’re going to be together now. I’ll make sure Mom and Dad understand, because Olivia’s willingly kissing me, and I think if she stops, I might die. Her kisses are soft, gentle, and I follow her lead while trying not to be pathetic and pant uncontrollably into her mouth.

There’s a sharp tug in my throat, and I think it might be a silent moan as she sucks on my bottom lip, scraping it with her teeth.

Olivia breaks the connection, looking down at me. “Will I keep going?” she asks, and I’m momentarily stunned, unable to communicate, as I study how beautiful she is.

I swallow. She wouldn’t be doing this if she knew the things I’ve done to her unconscious form, right?

Of course not. Why would she actually want to do this? I’m getting annoyed at myself. The voice in my head is mocking me that she’s being forced.

No. Olivia wants this. I know if I dropped my hand between her legs, she’d be soaked. She would. She’s always wet for me.

You aren’t allowed to stop yet. Keep going, little sister.

“Put your hand here,” she says, taking it and resting it on her cheek. “Or you can put your hands on their hips or in their hair. People like touch, especially while being kissed.”

What do you like?

For some reason, she’s speechless for a long second, and I want to narrow my goddamn eyes and tell her to answer carefully, but she only grabs my hand once more, my cock twitching as she places my hand on her throat.

Her fingers squeeze around mine, and fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“I like to be choked,” she tells me. “I like rough kisses that hurt.”

I want to kill her.

She screams as I flip us over, so I’m hovering above her, grasping tightly around her fucking throat as I smash my lips down on hers.

My tongue pushes past her lips, and I suck on hers, kissing her deeper while she struggles for a full breath. I can hear herchoked gasps as she wraps her legs around me, my dick stabbing into her thigh.