Page 43 of Lying Is My Love Language

One second, I’m on top, and the next I’m on my back with him braced over me, his blue eyes wild and dangerous.

‘Never,’ he says.‘You want to play dirty?’

‘Always.’

He grabs my leg and lifts it over his shoulder, his mouth finding my calf as he kisses a path up the inside of it.My breath catches, because this is not where I expected this to go – and then—

He plunges into me.

Deep.

Hard.

Full.

My mouth falls open, but no sound comes out.

Luke doesn’t stop.Doesn’t ease up.He drives into me again, hands gripping my hips.

‘You like being in charge?’he asks, snapping his hips forward.

I claw at his shoulders.‘I was thriving, thanks.’

He thrusts again, impossibly deep.‘Noted.’

I’m writhing now, lost in sensation, every inch of me alight.The new angle has me spiralling, his chest gliding against mine as he pounds into me, his free hand sliding up to press between my breasts, fingers finding the thud of my pulse.

His mouth is on my ankle, then my shin, then kissing the inside of my knee as if he owns it – and honestly, right now, maybe he does.

And then I break.

There’s no warning – it’s a blinding rush, a full-body tremor that spirals out until I’m gasping, gripping Luke’s shoulders, which are the only solid thing keeping me from floating straight off the planet.

‘Fuck, Jamie,’ he mutters, hips stuttering as I clamp around him, pulsing hard, still riding the wave when he groans and thrusts once – twice – and then stills, buried deep as he comes with a low, wrecked sound that somehow makes me clench again.

We collapse.

He doesn’t crush me – he catches himself on trembling arms, forehead pressed to mine, breath hot and uneven.

I blink up at the ceiling.‘Okay,’ I pant.‘That was … inconveniently good.’

Luke laughs, soft and hoarse.‘Inconvenient?’

I nod, breathless.‘I had a whole plan.Leave early, no goodbyes, make a clean getaway.’

‘There’s still time.’

‘I know.’I sigh, still recovering.‘I blame your face.And your dick.’

He grins, eyes flicking down between us.‘Thanks, I guess.’

I slap his chest.‘Don’t make me regret this.’

He leans down, presses a kiss to my bare shoulder.‘Too late.’

We lie there in silence, hearts still pounding in sync, sweat cooling between us.In the distance, a bug buzzes and the wind rattles the gum trees outside.His room smells of eucalyptus, red dirt and something warm I can’t name.

I close my eyes, let my fingers drift over his back.And for a moment, I imagine what it would be like if I didn’t leave tomorrow.If we weren’t a one-night, wedding-fuelled mistake wrapped in sexual tension and banter.