Page 93 of Little Liar

“How poetic of you, Malachi.” I smile at him. “You’re my boyfriend, not my brother.”

His eyes pinch at the corners as he narrows them, his hands lowering to my ass, grasping each cheek as he closes the distance between us—his body presses mine up against the tiled wall, his cock stabbing into me.

“And we’re going to stop referring to each other as siblings,” I add.

He shakes his head, looking like I’ve suggested we break up given the way he’s glaring at me. He’s so easily annoyed. A man with a short fuse.

To annoy him further, I slide my hands up his chest, wrap my arms around his shoulders, and fist his hair. “Tell me I’m your girlfriend. Tell me you aren’t my brother.”

He shakes his head again, this time with a firm jaw. Despite the anger in his eyes, his cock jerks against my navel, and I rub myself against it, needing him to touch me, to take away the memory of someone trying to kidnap me. I need him to replace the hand over my mouth with his lips, to make me feel anything but the paranoia and sickness in my gut.

“You need to choose, Malachi.” I lick my lips, arching my back. “I’m either your sister, or I’m your girlfriend.”

I’ve mentioned this before, but he really does need to choose because we can’t go around labeling each other as partnersandsiblings.

His eyes flash, his jaw so tense I think his bones might break as his hand slips up to my neck, grasping my throat. “Both,” he grits then slams his mouth against mine, his thumb pressing into my pulse as his tongue delves past my lips, tasting the moan leaving my lungs.

“I need you.” I take him in my hand, feeling him grow in my grip. “Please.”

This isn’t slow and romantic. It never is with Malachi. He lifts me into his arms and wraps my legs around his waist, fisting my hair to tip my head, kissing me deeper as he pushes into me.

Hard. Fast. Abrupt. He fucks me against the wall, dragging whimpers from my lips as he kisses me the total opposite from the way he’s thrusting into my pussy. He drags his mouth to the corner of my lips, my jaw, along to the sensitive area below my ear and nips the skin, making me flinch and clench around his cock.

“I love you,” I whisper into his ear.

He lifts his head, still buried deep, then groans as he shuts off the water and carries me into the bedroom. He slides out, throws me onto the bed, and shuts off the light so only the moon shining through the window glows on his face.

“I love you too,” he replies firmly, as if the words were hard to say instead of signing. He’s trying so hard for me and for himself.

I smile as he climbs on top of me, parting my legs around him.

“Put my legs on your shoulders.”

He hesitates as he takes one of my legs, and I can see it all over his face. He doesn’t have a clue what he’s doing. This man has tied me up, fucked me in chains, fucked me unconscious, fucked me against walls and on all fours, even over our dying father’s body, and this is what he struggles with?

It’s not even the position. There’s something else there. His entire posture stiffens.

“You haven’t done it that way before?” I ask.

He looks away from me, but I force him to give me his eyes as I grab his jaw. “Hey. Talk to me.”

I’ve only ever fucked you, remember?His signing is angry, his eyes even worse, and my mouth closes.

“I’m sorry.”

A silent beat passes, his grip tightening on my leg, and he gulps deeply.

Show me,he signs.

I don’t want him to feel embarrassed. His cheeks are going bright red and he’s closing off on me.

I nod slightly, chewing my bottom lip as I lift my other leg, resting both on his shoulders. “Wrap your arms around them and hold the sides of my thighs with the opposite hands.”

Tentatively, Malachi does as I tell him, and his fingers dig into my flesh, his cock twitching against my slit. I reach down between my legs and take him in my palm, pumping him in the fist while rubbing his precum-soaked head against me.

His chest is rising and falling, the grip on my thighs growing harsher, especially when I position him right where he wants to be.

Like he wasn’t inside me minutes ago, I’m desperate for him, but I want him to take his time. I want him to be comfortable.