Page 134 of Ruin Me With Lies

Then as if it’s too much for him, as if being this close to my mouth without being allowed to taste it is unbearable, he cups my shoulders and urges me back until I’m flat against the pool table.He then hooks my thighs into the crooks of his arms and begins fucking me like a debauchery demon fresh out of hell.

And this part…this part I got right about him.He fucksjustas I’ve imagined.Hard and unrelenting.Hot and confident.Deep and rough and penetrating and so damn good.Merciless.

He might be gentle and teasing with his hands, his mouth, his voice, but with his cock buried inside me, he’s every bit the ferocious savage I’ve always suspected he was.No apology in his thrusts.No restraint.No care or concern.Just ruthless rhythm, pounding into me like he owns me, like he’s trying to ruin me.

And my pussylovesit, greedily clenching around him every time he sends it home, gushing and wilding like she’s never experienced good dick before.

“You’re perfect, my little liar,” he husks out.“Perfect.”

With a deep groan, he kisses my inner thighs, then slows as he grips my hips and pulls my ass to the very edge of the table.When he presses my bent legs down to my chest, my cheeks burn, because I couldn’t be more open and exposed in this position.Couldn’t be morehis.

Needing to reclaim even a modicum of control, so it doesn’t feel like I’m being completely served up on a platter entirely at his mercy, I wrap my arms around my own legs and pull them back farther, tucking them beneath my shoulders.

A quiet flex.A show of strength.A warning not to forget who I am.

Stefano stops as his eyes go molten, dark with heat, and with a slow shake of his head, he mutters the Lord’s name in vain, then plunges in deep, knocking a rippling cry out of me that doesn’t sound human.

Holy.Shit.He’s indeep.

So.Deep.

My back arches, my mouth falls open, helpless to control the string of mewls and whispers that spills out of me.

“Don’t cry, my pretty Delilah.You wanted to show off, didn’t you?”he taunts, voice like dark silk.“Show me you cantake it, then.”

This demon…

Just like that, whatever illusion of control I had is gone.He owns it now.All of it.Stupid of me to think I ever stood a chance.

He fucks me with sinful intensity, with delicious brutality.Each thrust harder, rougher, deeper.It’s as if he’s trying to reach my heart.As if he’s trying to carve his name on the inside of me.As if he wants to break me down and build me back up again with nothing but his cock.

I’ve never felt more like a girl than I do right now, breathless and whimpering under him.I’m all moans, hoarse cries, broken pleas, all nerve endings and surrender.

People who know me would say I’m tough as nails.But with Stefano Castello inside me, I’m nothing but a soft,softgirl.

“That’s it, beautiful.Keep choking the fuck out of my cock with this greedy fucking pussy,” he grunts out, railing me relentlessly.“You’re being so good for me, aren’t you?Fuck—you’re taking me so—ugghhfuck…”

He’s close.

And just knowing that, knowing he’s thiswreckedfrom fuckingme, sends me spiraling and does me in.Watching his neck strain, veins thick and bulging, the sweat glistening along his chest, his eyelids heavy and his jaw clenched tight, I fall apart around him, shattering to pieces.

As violent tremors pulse through me, I have to let go of my legs and claw the edges of the table to withstand the turbulent quake tearing through my body.

Only when I’m wrung dry, limp and boneless in the aftermath, do I realize Stefano has stopped moving.

To watch me.

“You’re a work of art when you come, Delilah,” he murmurs, voice thick with awe.“The sweetest fucking sight.”

Oh God.I cover my face with both hands.Why does he keep making me feel like this?I’m not a blusher, dammit!I don’t get flustered.And yet…here I am.

At the fluttery sensation of tender kisses peppering across my belly, my ribs, my waist, I peek through my fingers and catch sight of him peering up at me through those thick, dark lashes as he trails kisses all over my abdomen.

Voice low, possessive, feral, he says against my skin, “Don’t ever ask me to let you go.”

Before I can ask what the hell that means, he’s upright again, plunging deep inside me once more.The strokes are slower now, languid, drawn out.He’s trying to hold on.Trying not to come.But it doesn’t last.

Before long, his hips are snapping again, pace brutal, rhythm lost, like his body’s taken over.All instinct now.All need.