Page 55 of Pretty Lies

He knew it.

Taunted the orgasm to the surface.

He only gave it to her when his thumb slipped against her ass to push and tease until she was backing into that, too.

She rode him faster through it.

He fucked her harder.

And after the tremors and her high cries had settled, he pulled her high until she was sitting on his face, and he ate the next orgasm right out of her. Then they were right back to fucking in soft sheets until he painted her stomach with white ropes of cum with her name in his mouth and smoke still clinging to the air.

She only wanted more.

All over again.

This was supposed to be just them having fun. That’s what he said.

God.

She wanted that to be true.

Except when they finished, sticky and hot and all out of breath, on theirs backs in his bed … his satisfied chuckles broke through the haze and she stared over at him. She ached in all the right ways. Her hands couldn’t stop from reaching over to trace lines with her fingertips across the expanse of his inked chest.

It was easy.

He sucked her right in.

Like a hurricane.

No doubt, she looked a mess. Ruined makeup. Slick with him. Smiling, though. And he stared at her as though he liked it. All tangled in his sheets. Cory grinned back.

Yeah.

“We need more smoke,” he said, laughter heavy. “See, that’s why I had a blunt in my nightstand. For when you really need it in bed but don’t want to get out of it. I have to get out of bed to get another—I blame you.”

He had a point.

All she managed to say after a giggle was, “Fuck you.”

So many of their conversations always seemed to end the same.

She barely knew him at all.

Cory stuck out his tongue between his grin to say, “Oh, yeah, yeah. Again, definitely. We’re doing that again, babe, but with you on your knees when I’m slipping it in nice and slow. I need that ass high. Maybe fuck that, too.”

She shivered all over.

Because wouldn’t that be so easy?

He forgot all about that other room she was supposed to be sleeping in. She realized how easy it was for her to forget about it, too, while she looked at him.

He grabbed the tablet she had earlier. Hip hop filtered through the device, reminding her that he hadn’t forgotten she’d been looking for music. The guy on the beat that talked up his hard work and material aspirations was a favorite of hers, but she didn’t tell Cory that.

She wasn’t surprised he liked the musician too, though. Too much of him seemed just like her, but the flipside of the same coin.

He said they were just having fun. Right—just fun.

The problem with that was she knew how men like him worked when it came to women. Fun could mean making a woman fall head over heels for him because the chase was the best part. And once that was over, well who cared about something like someone’s heart? It had all been just fun, right?

Men like Cory Rossi only did one thing to women like her.

Break hearts.