Page 89 of The Summer We Lie

"I love everything about you," he says, still slamming into me hard enough that I know I'll feel it tomorrow. "This pussy, your ass, those perfect little nipples. Fuck," he groans, his rhythm faltering for just a second. "Your fucking eyes are my favorite part of you. The way you're so fucking innocent yet depraved like me. How you seem like you were made specifically for me."

The words make my heart squeeze even as another orgasm starts building impossibly fast. He leans down again, his lips finding the sensitive spot on my neck, and I wrap my arms around him, pulling him as close as physically possible. His lips find mine once more, and he grips my ass with both hands, lifting me so I'm barely even on the table anymore—just suspended there, impaled on his cock, completely at his mercy.

The orgasm surprises me when it hits, crashing through me without warning, and I bite down on his lip without meaning to. He growls—that feral sound again—and fucks me harder than I thought was physically possible, the force of it making the table scrape loudly against the floor. Then he comes with a groan that seems to vibrate through the entire room, through my body, through everything.

We stay like that for long moments, both panting, his forehead resting against mine. My body feels boneless, completely spent, wrung out in the best possible way. I've never had sex like this before—so intense, so all-consuming that the rest of the world just disappears.

"You're going to be the death of me," he whispers against my lips, his breathing still heavy, chest heaving.

I laugh softly, feeling dizzy with the aftershocks still pulsing through me in gentle waves. "I think it's the other way around."

Dom kisses me again, gentler this time, and I melt into it, my body relaxing fully for the first time. When he finally pulls back, his eyes have that warm look in them—the one that makes my heart do complicated gymnastics in my chest.

"I have a meeting in fifteen minutes," he says, and the reluctance in his voice is clear, written all over his face. "But I'm going to have my driver take you to the grocery store, and then back to the house." He smooths my hair back from my face with such tenderness it makes my throat tight. "And tonight, when you get home, we'll continue this."

The possessive way he says it—like it's a promise and a command all at once—sends a fresh wave of desire through me despite how thoroughly satisfied I should be. How can I possibly want him again already?

"Okay," is all I can manage to say, my voice small.

He helps me fix my clothes, his hands lingering on my skin in a way that feels almost reverent. I wince slightly as he pulls my shorts up over my sensitive, abused ass.

"Too much?" he asks immediately, concern replacing the heat in his eyes as he searches my face.

I shake my head quickly. "No. It was... perfect."

The smile that spreads across his face is predatory and pleased—like a cat that's caught exactly what it was hunting. He presses a kiss to my forehead, then another to my lips, this one lingering.

"I'll text you when I'm on my way home. And Skye?"

"Yes?"

"Next time, ask before you remove something I've put inside you."

The command sends a shiver down my spine, makes my core clench around nothing. "Yes, sir."

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Skye

"Oh my god, you're so hot!" Harper bursts through my bedroom door like a whirlwind of confidence and perfection. She's wearing a sexy black dress that hugs every curve of her body, the fabric clinging to her in all the right places. Her hair cascades down her back in perfect Hollywood curls that probably took her an hour to achieve, each strand catching the light like spun copper. Her makeup is absolutely flawless—classic red lips that match her hair, dramatic winged eyeliner that could cut glass, and cheekbones highlighted to perfection. She looks like she stepped straight off a magazine cover.

"You're pretty hot yourself," I say, moving toward my closet to hunt for shoes. Harper always looks like she stepped out of a fashion magazine, but tonight she's gone completely all out. There's an energy radiating from her, an excitement that makes her practically glow.

"Are you ready for tonight?" she asks, leaning against the doorframe with that casual grace she's always possessed. Her eyes are bright with anticipation, and I can tell she's been looking forward to this all day.

"I'm ready, but the better question is are YOU ready?" I ask, raising an eyebrow at her. She's the one performing tonight, after all. This is her first show at Obsidian, and I know she's been practically vibrating with pent-up creative energy, itching to get back to what she loves.

"I'm so ready," she says, her eyes lighting up like Christmas morning. "I've been dying since I've been here, not being able to go live and bake. It's like being an artist without a canvas, you know? I feel incomplete."

"Yeah, I've barely made any content since I've been here either, and mine is way easier to do than yours," I say, though the truth is more complicated than that. I haven't done anything because I've been completely and utterly occupied with Dom. Every spare moment, every thought, every breath has been consumed by him. Just thinking about him now makes my core throb with a dull ache despite how thoroughly he worked me over earlier today in his office.

"Okay, we need to leave soon. Are you about ready?" she asks, glancing at her phone with that efficient energy she gets when she's focused on a goal.

"Yep, I just need shoes. Can I borrow a pair?" I ask, knowing she has a collection of designer footwear that lines one entire wall of her closet. It would put most boutiques to shame—rows upon rows of heels, boots, and flats in every color and style imaginable.

"Hell yeah! I have the perfect pair for that dress," she says and practically bounces out of my room, excitement radiating from every step she takes down the hallway.

I sit on the edge of my bed to wait, immediately wincing as my ass connects with the mattress. The soreness from earlier today is still there, a constant reminder of Dom's hands, his belt, his control, the way he made me come apart completely. After I left his office, I went grocery shopping as promised, trying to act normal while my body still hummed with the aftereffects of what we'd done. Then I came home to shower again, needing to wash away the evidence of our encounter before facing Harper.