Page 36 of The Lady Was Lying (Greydon #3)

As they ravaged each other, her legs came up, knees bending and feet locking around him and pulling him closer.

More flexible than he expected, she ground her hips against his cock at a perfect angle to trap it between his stomach and the wetness at her core.

Sliding along her soft folds, he rocked against her, rubbing against her opening, never penetrating but offering a delicious friction that made him shudder.

Her slippery heat was far better than he could have imagined.

“Don’t stop,” she whispered with a gasp. The sounds that slipped from her convinced him that she was enjoying it as much as he was.

“Right there,” she added, shifting her hips the slightest bit and gasping again.

“Like this?” He thrust, dragging his length over the same spot over and over again.

“Yes,” she groaned.

Why did simply rubbing against her feel so good? Would it always be like this? Or was it special because it was their first time?

“Yes. Please. Don’t. Stop.” Her words were fractured, almost broken as they fell into his mouth between soft kisses.

With his pleasure intricately tied to hers, it was impossible not to give her what she asked for.

Her hands landed on his arse, squeezing and encouraging him to increase his pace.

Sharper, shorter thrusts seemed to be what she needed, because suddenly, she was gasping, arching, and writhing beneath him.

He raised his head enough to see the mask of pleasure that engulfed her face.

Her body bowed and then tightened while she orgasmed with a long, lingering moan.

Flushed cheeks, swollen lips, unfocused eyes.

She was every dream he’d ever had and every fantasy he hadn’t allowed himself to consider. With her breath still heaving and her legs falling open shamelessly once again, she whispered, “I want to feel you inside me.”

It was his turn to moan.

Pushing himself up and reaching between them to guide his cock, he intended to enter her as slowly as possible.

She had other ideas.

“I’m wet. I’m ready. You don’t…need…to go slow.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.” Everyone knew there was pain the first time, and he intended to mitigate it as much as he could. He wanted coupling to be good for her from start to finish so that she’d stay with him, not because he’d kidnapped her, but because she wanted to.

“You won’t hurt me.” She squirmed enough to make her nipples drag across the springy hair that sprinkled his chest, sparking tiny jolts of pleasure that enhanced his arousal even more

“But—”

“Trust me.”

“What?” he asked, unable to comprehend what she was trying to say.

“Do you need to go slow to find pleasure?”

“No.” The more friction the better.

“Then stick your cock inside me right now,” she demanded, “and start moving.”

Chuckling was probably not the ideal response, but he couldn’t help himself. Not when she spoke so bluntly and with such insistence.

“Right now,” she repeated, squeezing his arse, fingernails digging into his flesh.

He didn’t enter her as hard as he could have, but he didn’t go slow either, sliding into her tight channel in a single fluid motion.

“Holy fuck,” slipped through his lips, and it was her turn to chuckle.

And then groan.

She flexed or squeezed or something, and the tightness that gripped him increased. The way her body cradled him was almost too pleasurable, so much so that his hips rocked of their own accord, sliding out to almost the tip and then back in.

If being buried to the hilt had been good, the sensation of withdrawing and sliding back inside was staggering.

“Just like that,” she murmured, encouraging him, so he did it again and again and again.

He didn’t lose control, but he absolutely lost himself.

By the time he came, barely remembering to pull out, he was practically boneless, collapsing on top of her with a grunt and burying his face in the crook of her neck.

Her hands slid up his back to delve into his hair.

“Was it good?” he whispered when he had regained the ability to speak.

“Was it good?” she repeated, sounding almost amused. “What do you think?”

He dragged his head up so he could see her.

She looked debauched and quite pleased about it, her cheeks still flushed, lips still rosy.

“Yes,” slipped out of his mouth. “It was good.”

A throaty chuckle escaped from her, sounding like unfettered joy and making it clear that she agreed wholeheartedly. “Yes,” she repeated. “Want to do it again?”

“Yes,” he echoed. “Absolutely.” There was zero doubt. “Once I recover.”

“Is that going to take some time?” she asked, still smiling.

“Probably.” He could barely feel his limbs.

She hummed, the sound rumbling against his chest, and he realized he remained on top of her, crushing her into the mattress.

“Maybe we should sleep first,” he suggested, hoisting himself up with an undignified groan and collapsing next to her. Sated was apparently synonymous with weariness because all he wanted to do was tug her close, pull up a blanket, and close his eyes.

“Sleep.” She pressed a kiss onto his cheek, and when she drew the blanket over them, he couldn’t help but listen.

* * *

Sleep did not come quite so easily for Belinda. Her brain refused to quiet. The thoughts cycling through it were not upsetting. On the contrary, actually. She was uplifted. Confident in who she was in a way she never had been before.

She was also eager. Eager for a repeat of the last hour. Eager to try another position. Eager to learn whether the second time would be as good as the first.

It was wild to think that she hadn’t believed herself capable of passion.

All her expectations had been obliterated.

Not because it was better than she expected, although it absolutely was, but because it was so different than she’d anticipated.

For years, she’d assumed that sex, like kissing, would require her to take whatever was offered and find fulfillment if she could.

She should have known that bedding James wouldn’t be like that.

Nothing with James ever unfolded in the way she expected.

His willingness to listen to her balanced with his ability to tell her no offered a measure of freedom she hadn’t known she needed, and with it came a shocking amount of assurance.

When he awoke, she was going to climb on top of him and see whether a different position enhanced their pleasure.

For the first time in recent memory, her future wasn’t desolate and empty. Instead, it was bright and full of promise.