Page 26 of Truth Revealed

She blinked at her reflection before turning around and facing him, her head tilted back just the tiniest bit. Cheeks colored pink from the blush, she stared up at him as if searching his expression for something.

“You really, really mean that,” she mumbled in disbelief. Truth had his ‘well, of course’ response ready on his tongue, but before he could even part his lips to answer, Daria launched herself across the kitchen.

Instinctively, his arms went around her and he tugged her close, her warm body pressing up against his as her legs wrapped around his waist. His cock jumped in excitement, but then all of Truth’s thoughts were obliterated when she slammed her lips into his.

The kiss was sweet and explosive, tender and eager all at the same time. He cupped the back of her head, tangling his fingers in her hair as their lips moved together. Like the tides of the ocean rolling in and out, so, too, did their lips part and return.

Clumsily, he stepped forward until the tops of his thighs bumped into the counter, and Truth barely leaned down to set Daria on top. They scarcely broke apart for a breath, but it was enough for Truth to study her. Her eyes were bright and clouded with desire, her lips wet and reddened and parted slightly to suck in harsh breaths, just like himself.

But Daria cocked her head to the side, lips curling as she nodded. He must have spoken aloud, because she replied, “Yeah,” a little raspy.

Then she tilted her head back and Truth took the sign for what it was, and swooped down to take her lips. They parted under his instantly, her tongue darting out to swipe against his as her fingers dug into his shoulders.

She seemed to demand more without speaking a single word.

Trailing his hands from her neck to her shoulders, then down her sides to settle on her hips, he took in and memorized every curve and swell of her body. With her thighs parted and her knees clamped around his hips, he was pressed against every inch of her. His fingers dipped beneath the hem of her shirt, her warmth like fire beneath his touch.

And Truth didn’t care if he got burned.

Her sweet gasp into his mouth as he flattened his palms against her bare flesh was better than any plastic wrapped confection. As he traced his hands up, the fabric of her shirt bunched and collected at his wrists, until she lifted her hands away from his neck and he removed it completely. Chills rippled over her skin before his gaze as the cold air hit her flesh, but she didn’t seem to care. Instead, she reached for his shirt, her fingers tracing the ridges of his abs before drifting upward. With every inch of him she studied, his cock throbbed harder and needier behind the prison of his pants.

But he ignored it for now, instead helping Daria with removing his shirt. He paused, caressing her face, his mind still reeling at the fact that she was there, just before him. Finally.

His pulse pounded against his neck as he reached out and released her hair from the messy bun she’d tossed it up in. The dark locks of hair trailed down around her shoulders and tickled her skin like he wanted to with his fingers, his lips, his tongue.

Reining in his need, he forced himself to slow down as he cupped her face and took her mouth again. He let all the affection he had for her show itself in the way his lips brushed hers, in the way he gently cradled her cheek in his palm, in the way he didn’t want to rush this—instead, he wanted to savor it as if she were the most magnificent dessert he’d ever had the pleasure of tasting.

And he would taste her, of that he was certain.

With that thought in mind, he wrapped his arms around her and picked her up as if she weighed nothing. Balancing her the way he was as they made the short trip to the dining table, he couldn’t help but squeeze and knead the plumpness he literally held in the palm of his hands.

“Gonna have me for dessert?” she teased as he sat her down.

“Damn right,” he rasped out.

Her lips pursed as she studied him, crossing her arms. The action plumped her breasts up and he barely held back his groan.

“Well, what if I want you for dessert?”

Truth planted his palms on either side of her hips, capturing her gaze with his own and closing the distance until he was only centimeters from her lips. “I think something can be arranged. We do have the entire house to ourselves,” he murmured. Ideas, images, dreams he’d had for weeks flashed through his mind.

And it left him with one realization.

One night with her would never be enough.

TRUTH

“Something can be arranged, alright,” Daria purred, her voice low and sultry and everything Truth had dreamed about.

Still, it took him by surprise when she suddenly stood from the table, pushing him back a step. Her hands were a warm, welcome touch on his chest, her fingers barely brushing against the blond hairs that spattered his chest. But it was when she hooked her fingers into the belt loops of his jeans that he knew she meant business.

His dick jumped where it was confined beneath his jeans and boxers and he swallowed hard. Maybe it hadn’t truly occurred to him that this was happening. That it was real, she was real, and touching him, and kissing him, and—

“Breathe, Truth,” she murmured against his lips, but then she took away any breath he had with another kiss.

When she pulled away, he was sure the starstruck expression on his face was laughable, but her lips only twitched the tiniest bit before her fingers took over. It was like he blinked and the button on his pants was open. Blink. His zipper was hissing through the kitchen. Blink. Daria’s hands worked them down his hips.

He shook himself out of his daze and helped her get them off, until he stood before her in nothing but a pair of boxer briefs, his erection pressing obscenely against the fabric. With his gaze locked on hers, he was like a marionette to her puppeteer as she rotated them until he was the one with his back to the table. Then, she pushed her hand against his chest, shoving him back until he was flat on the sturdy oak, his legs hanging over the side.