Page 91 of Cruel Lies

But I hold her anyway, simply because I can.

I kiss her slow. There's no rush. I've got nowhere else I need to be, and neither does she. I pull her lip between my teeth and let it go, and the whimper makes me stiffen beneath her.

"Ronan…" she breathes.

"I'm right here."

I trace my hand up from her waist, slow enough that she could stop me if she chose to. She arches into it instead, pushing herself into my palm, and I feel her breath catch when I find the curve of her breast through the green silk.

"Is this alright?" I ask against her mouth.

"Yes." She says it fast. Too fast. Then, softer, like she means it more the second time: "Yes."

I keep going, though I take my time. I want her to feel every second of it, every place my hands travel, because a man spent ten years teaching her she was too much, and I intend to spend a good while teaching her the opposite.

She's exactly enough.

She's more than any man deserves.

She's kissing me harder now, hands fisted in my lapels. I can feel her coming apart at the edges, all that control she holds so tight finally loosening. It's a gift, her letting me see it. I don't take it lightly.

I slide my hand down, over the silk, along the warm length of her thigh where the dress has ridden up. She shivers. I gather the fabric in my fist and push it higher, and she lets her knees fall open across my lap like it's the easiest thing in the world to yield to me.

"Tell me to stop and I will," I say. "Right now. Any time."

"Don't youdarestop." She presses her forehead to mine, eyes shut. "God. I think it'd kill me if you did."

So I don't.

I find her center, and she gasps into my mouth as I paint a finger through her arousal. Her whole body goes soft and pliant against me. She grips my shoulders and hides her face in my neck, whimpering again. I find the nub of her clit and work slow, torturous circles. I listen and adjust, adjust and listen, learning how her body moves and experiences pleasure so I can double and triple it for her.

She's trembling and keeps whispering my name like that's her last tether to reality.Ronan, Ronan, Ronan. I hold her tighter, my mouth at her temple, murmuring soft reassurances into her hair.

"Good girl," I murmur against her ear. "Just like that."

She whimpers and rocks her hips into my hand, chasing it. I give her more. I slide one finger inside her, then a second, andshe clenches around me, hot, slick, and perfect. My thumb keeps working her clit, slow circles, then faster when I feel her start to climb.

"R-Ronan!" Her voice breaks. "Oh, God, I think I'm— Don't stop, don't stop?—"

"I won't," I promise her. "I'm not going anywhere."

I curl my fingers and find the spot inside her that makes her go rigid in my lap. Her nails dig into my shoulders through the tux. She's panting now, her whole body strung tight, right at the edge.

"Let go," I say. "You're safe with me,kotyonok.I'll never leave you alone."

That kills her.La petite mort—the little death. The orgasm that wipes her brain clean and sends her out of her body for one beautiful moment.

She comes apart with a cry she muffles into my neck, her thighs clamping around my hand, her whole body shuddering through it. I work her through every wave, slow and steady, until she's a puddle of whimpering green silk against my chest.

I hold her there on the warm stone, my hand still cupping her sex to anchor her to me.

After a while, I hear her say something. I don't catch her, so I ask her to repeat herself.

"I said, My kids are at my mom's tonight." She raises her head to look at me, her face flushed so perfectly. "Will you come upstairs?"

I consider it. All the things that have brought us to this step, this moment. One more staircase separates us from the final piece. Can we climb it? What will happen if we do?

"I will if you ask me," I say.