Page 4 of Web of Lies

I wrap my arms around his shoulders, threading my fingers through his hair, as he sits back on the mattress and pulls me into his lap.

When his hard cock brushes against my pussy, a jolt of electricity shoots up my spine.

Every muscle in my body tenses in anticipation.

Instead of thrusting in, though, he breaks the kiss, nudges his nose against mine, and peppers light kisses against my parted lips.

"Turn around," he murmurs.

"Why?" I catch his lower lip between my teeth and tug at the soft flesh.

"Because I want a perfect view of my cock inside you."

I nod, and with a pop, let go of his lip. Then, with my heart hammering against my ribcage, I scoot back and turn around to straddle his hips, facing the large mirror opposite the bed with my back to his chest.

The reflection looking back at me sends shivers down my spine and sets my entire body on fire.

With my legs spread, I squat over Kyle's hips, fully exposed while his erect cock stands between my thighs.

His Jacob's ladder clings tightly to the underside of his shaft, looking both painful and erotic.

"Good girl," he says, his voice tinged with praise. His hand slides between us, and his fingers wrap around his thick length. He gives himself a couple of slow, skillful strokes before holding himself in place. "Now, be a good slut and take my cock like you were made for it."

I plant my feet on the mattress and slowly lower myself down.

The head of his cock brushes against my pussy, its piercing taunting my folds.

Then, his crown catches my opening, and I spread around him, easing him in inch by inch.

My head falls back onto his shoulder, and a satisfied hum vibrates in my throat as I savor the way he stretches me.

Each bump of his piercings catches on the edges of my entrance before disappearing inside.

Once the last slips inside and he is all the way in, a long, throaty moan rises from the depths of my stomach.

"Good," he croons, his hands landing on my hips.

I tilt my head forward and study our reflection in the mirror. My gaze drops to where our bodies are connected, my pussy stretched around his cock. Only the thick base of his shaft peeks out. At the sight, my pussy throbs, gripping him tight.

With a deep breath, I plant my hand on his broad thighs, swaying from side to side as I adjust my stance, gasping as his cock pulls at my insides. Once I find a steady and somewhat comfortable position, I roll my hips, pulling a deep grunt from him.

With my eyes fixed on our reflection, I raise my hips and watch his cock slide out of me.

Then, I lower myself back down. The stretch makes me greedy; my body is already begging for more.

Without hesitation, I go all in, bobbing up and down on his cock.

My mouth hangs open, and a series of moans spills from my lips every time he bottoms out.

My legs tremble beneath me, and my movements grow sloppy.

A whimper sneaks out of me as a burning ache shoots through my limbs; the position is beginning to take its toll.

When Kyle notices, he tightens his grip on my waist and lies back down on the bed.

He plants his feet on the mattress and starts thrusting up into me without warning.

My hands land on his knees as a scream of pleasure tears from my throat.

The sudden shift in control is overwhelming and exhilarating.

At this angle, his piercings assault my opening with each thrust against that sweet spot inside me. My head lolls forward, my eyes flutter shut, and I focus on each thrust that pulls at my insides.

"Keep looking at yourself, Baby," Kyle says, digging his fingers into my skin. "Look at how beautiful you are, getting fucked like the cock-hungry slut you are."

My gaze shifts back to the mirror. The mere sight of us could make me come undone.

It's the way my body bounces on Kyle's lap and my tits sway in sync with each forceful thrust. Or the perfect view of him pounding into me, stretching me wide open.

Not to mention the sounds. Aside from our ragged breathing, the wet, filthy beat of his hips slamming into me echoes through the room.

Chasing another high, I slide one hand between my legs and press two fingers flat against my clit and start rubbing in rhythm with Kyle's strokes.

My muscles wrapped around Kyle's cock, contract in waves as another orgasm creeps closer.

The pressure builds deep within my core, leaving me feeling so full that I'm on the edge of bursting.

With another deep thrust, Kyle throws me over the edge.

A loud moan tears from my throat, and the pressure melts as my second orgasm surges through my body.

A gush of fluid pours out of me while he continues to pump into me.

My limbs shake, and I struggle to stay upright. Tears burn in the corners of my eyes as Kyle continues to fuck me through the high.

His pace eventually slows, his hips bucking as he buries himself deep inside me with one last thrust. The muscles in his thighs flex, and his hips stutter as the familiar warmth of him spilling into me spreads throughout my abdomen.

We remain in that uncomfortable position for several torturous seconds before Kyle slowly lowers me down into his lap.

He pushes himself up into a sitting position and wraps his arms around me.

He rests his head on my shoulder and, with one hand, grips my chin and forces me to look back at the mirror.

With his other hand, he slowly eases his cock out of me.

The second he's out, another gush of liquid leaks out, followed by his sticky white cum.

"So beautiful," he growls. "The way my cum drips out of your used hole, like it belongs to me." Digging his nails into my chin, he holds me still and peppers soft, possessive kisses along my neck. "Like you belong to me."

The words hit me hard—harder than I expected.

My heart rate quickens, and a storm of butterflies erupts in my stomach, heat blooming in my chest. Part of me wants to believe him, to melt into those sweet words, but they're nothing more than empty phrases.

My gaze drops to the mirror again, landing on my stretched, swollen opening, raw and used.

His cum trickles out of me, running down to my ass, dripping onto his thighs.

A filthy, intimate reminder of everything we just did and what we are.

With a heavy sigh, I lean back into his chest, my knees giving out beneath me. Kyle's hand slips from my face as he wraps both arms around my waist, pulling me tightly against him.

His face buries in the nape of my neck, his warm breath brushing over my skin. My eyes flutter shut, and I place my hands over his, allowing myself to melt into the softer moment. No movement, just the steady rise and fall of his chest against my back, fast but slowing with each deep breath.

After an extensive shower and an additional orgasm for each of us, I'm now sitting on the spacious sofa in the open living area wearing a pair of Kyle's boxer briefs and one of his oversized shirts with a thin blanket draped over my legs protecting me from the chill of the AC.

My eyes are glued to the TV as I flip through the channels, searching for something light and easy to watch.

Beside me lies Kyle's cat, Dumpster. A fluffy calico with more orange than black and white spots. Her tiny paws press against my thigh as she kneads and purrs while I scratch her behind the ear.

We've been meeting regularly for about seven months, and I still can't wrap my head around the fact that Kyle owns a cat.

When I first met him, he didn't strike me as a pet person.

But people can surprise you, and when Kyle told me the story of how he found Dumpster as a kitten in a trash can while working, I could tell he had a soft spot for animals.

A sudden, thunderous vibration on the coffee table startles me. My eyes snap to Kyle's phone, which is ringing with an incoming call. A photo of a man in a suit, looking anything but happy as he tries to block the camera, lights up the screen, and the caller ID reads: "Little Brother."

At the sound of footsteps approaching from the hallway, I look up from the phone and find Kyle walking back into the living room with two pizza boxes in hand.

He steals a glance at the screen when he steps around the table, sets the food down, and presses the volume button to silence it.

Without saying a word, he sits down beside me, checks the boxes, and hands me mine.

"Aren't you going to answer?" I flip the box open, my stomach growling at the view of the simple cheese pizza.

"No, I'm with you right now. He probably just wants to know how my last job was like. I'll call him back later. And if it's an emergency, he'll text me right after."

"That's not a good look for a sidekick." A mocking smile twitches at the corners of my mouth, but I force a straight face as I bring a slice of pizza to my lips.

"When will you finally stop calling me that?" he scoffs.

"Prove to me you're more than just his sidekick, and I will.

" My resolve breaks, and a playful smile spreads across my face.

He doesn't hate the nickname I gave him after finding out that he's the brother of one of New York's most notorious professional killers as much as he pretends to.

I notice the amused smiles when I call him by it.

If he really wanted me to stop, he would be more vocal than just the occasional remark.

"I will. Just you wait." He shoots me a glare.

My attention drifts back to the screen as the call ends and the phone returns to the lock screen, showing a photo of Dumpster and his brother's dog, Whiskey, lying side by side on Kyle's sofa. "Have you told Noah about us?"

No, you didn't want anyone to know, especially Evelyn. If I told him, he'd tell her. He has become a real snitch since he started dating her," he says with a hint of humor as he shoves nearly an entire slice of pizza into his mouth.

For a split second, I wonder what I find attractive about him. Whoever taught him manners must have given up halfway through. Though, to be fair, he only acts like a caveman in private. When we're out at a restaurant, he knows how to behave.

"They're getting married, and this is something lots of couples do. Especially when something exciting like their best friends hooking up is happening." I shrug and take a bite of my food.

"It's still annoying," he grumbles with an eye roll. "Remind me why you don't want them to know?"

"Because they don't need to know. We're just hooking up.

It adds nothing valuable to their lives except potential stress about their wedding," I sigh, setting my pizza on the coffee table.

"Imagine this: what if we end things right before the wedding?

You're Noah's best man, and I'm one of Evelyn's bridesmaids.

They'd worry that it would be awkward between us, and I don't want that for her. "

"Hm, understandable. But I do like stressing Noah," he says.

I roll my eyes so hard that they almost hit the back of my skull. "You like stressing everyone ."

"Not Evelyn. I cherish my life."

"Why are you so scared of her?" I cock a brow.

"I'm not scared. I just respect her," he snorts. "She's small and pretty, sure, but she's got a nasty side. She's fired a warning shot at me before, and if I ruin her wedding, I'm pretty sure the next bullet will be a hit."

"Good. Then, we'll stick to our agreement."

"Yes, we're just hooking up. No feelings, no strings attached."

A half-hearted smile tugs at my lips, feeling heavy around the edges.

A faint pressure creeps into my chest, and for a heartbeat, the air seems too thick to breathe.

I offer him a small nod and force my face to stay neutral, hoping he can't hear the faint crack in my voice when I add, "And no one needs to know. "