“Are you? Are you honest with me?” he growled, fucking me hard.
I closed my eyes at the pleasure. And pain. He was speeding me toward a potent orgasm, and the bliss that would follow could very well knock me straight to sleep. But the pain of him catching on to my lies stung and made me ache in another way.
Like my heart breaking.
“I… Andre… I can’t eventhinkwith you doing this…” A filthy groan left my lips as he sped up faster, fucking me like never before.
Oh, God.
Oh, myGod.
I can’t take this.
It’s too much.
It’s so good.
It’s—
“Did you come here to spy on me?”
I tensed up, giving in to the burst of a climax. It washed over me, stopping me from being able to compute what he accused me of and what I could say back.
My legs tensed up and shook at the same time. Waves of white-hot pleasure streaked through me, rendering me limp and speechless. We’d fucked hard before. We’d blown each other away when we united like this. But this was too much. The intense pressure. The tingling euphoria. The blanketing bliss of relief.
It didn’t last.
I came back down from the high, still coming as he pounded into me yet, rubbing my inner walls raw with the plug in place and his cock a force of nature.
“Are you here to spy on me?” he demanded again.
Yeah, I’d heard him the first time. I hadn’t imagined that question I’d dreaded and feared.
His blunt question killed me. It shattered my heart and dashed my hopes of him loving me.
I didn’t deserve his love, not when Iwashere so duplicitously.
I didn’t deserve him, sent here to be a fraud and liar from his enemy.
He roared as he came. Thrusting in so hard, he strained to hold me in place as he filled me with his cum. His fingers dug into my sides. His thighs braced against mine. For long seconds, his dick twitched inside me as he emptied into my womb.
“Are you?—”
I shook my head, grabbing for him to pull him down to me.
He sighed, relief on his face as he took my silent gesture as an answer.
I wasn’t telling himno. I wasn’t replying to his question. Shaking my head was all I could do in this situation, wishing it weren’t happening. A denial that he was questioning me and wishing I weren’t caught like this.
I couldn’t admit it to him, not like this. Not when he was still inside me, when I was caught between pleasure and pain.
There was only one way I could respond. One action I could do.
I have to go.
I was in too deep, mixing feelings and hopes of love with the impossibility of a future with my rival.
I’d already fallen for him, and I refused to break my heart in having to confess that I’d come here not to love him, not to let him dominate me with so much heat and passion, but to spy on him.
