The Lie by Natalie Wrye (primary phonics books .txt) 📕

I existed until he rips them with his fingers, sending them flying across the room.

I can feel all my nerves coming alive under his tongue, my body no longer becoming my own under his touch.

He was right…

It is his.

Or at the very least it belongs to his tongue, which assaults me with savory sweetness, tasting every inch of me.

His tongue is hot and cold, wet and dry, sweet and salty. His tongue is everything I've ever wanted in a man’s.

He moves lower. His tongue now licks between my legs, my pussy, the entrance of my ass, my clit, my lips.

I moan, my voice so weak it seems like a whisper, the words strangled—choked to death by my desire.

He licks inside me, melding his tongue with my wetness, his mouth humming against my skin all the way.

An orgasm washes over me in one lung collapsing movement. My body clenches and convulses, pleasure rushing up and down my body, and I moan so loud the sound feels foreign, my body shaking with my release.

I look up, suddenly so aware of everything. The feel of Andrew’s tongue on my skin, the minty scent of his cool breath, his weight on my body, his taste in my mouth.

And suddenly I’m crying. I’m crying from the power of the orgasm, and from the emotions that are suddenly rushing through me.

He’s pulled back his head, and he’s staring at me, his eyes clear and somehow frowning as he leans up and kisses me.

My body twitches under his touch, sensitive with such need, such desire, and such longing that hot rivulets spring suddenly from my eyes, falling like shooting stars—streaking across my face.

“Hey,” he says, reaching up to brush my tears away. “What’s wrong?”

I shake my head, pressing my face into his chest. “Nothing. I’m just…feeling a lot.”

He grips me tighter, touching my jaw, turning it towards him—a smile on his lips that I want to kiss right off.

His mouth presses against the tip of my nose, brushing the skin there. “Man, I guess this is bad timing to say I should be careful about what I wish for. I wanted you to feel… Not turn into a pile of mush. Turns out I’m liking the mush. It’s cute,” he teases. “Almost as cute as when you get drunk and mouthy.”

I laugh at his joke, but the sound is hollow, a seriousness seeping back into place as I realize something that never occurred to me until now.

A notion I pushed away to keep myself from falling—from feeling anything for him before.

“You’re a good man, Andrew,” I whisper as his fingers continue to stroke my face. “And I want to thank you for this weekend… It’s opened my eyes.”

He drops his head onto the pillow beside mine. We look at each other, and we both smile.

He starts to say something, but I shake my head. He’s still going to try to make things better for me.

“Don’t say anything,” I tell him. “I know it must sound silly—for me to thank you, after all that you’ve done for me. But I’ll do it. I’ll do it long after you’re gone, and people will ask why I was so nice to you… And I’ll have to lie.”

He grins, his handsome face lighting up, strands of dark hair falling across his forehead, begging for my fingers to touch. He waggles his brows.

“And here I thought I was starting this weekend out owing you favor. I think after this last orgasm…you’re going to owe me one.”

I eye him. “Good thing for you I never leave an investment unrewarded.” I sigh. “I want you to know that I’ve always thought you were attractive. Don’t get me wrong, I know you’re an attractive guy. But I’ve never really thought you were my type.”

I take his hand in mine and circle his fingers. “But I also never thought you were the type to be with someone like me, Andrew. I’ve always thought you were a bit too much.” I nod and lean in close to him. “Turns out I actually like too much.”

Andrew inches, pulling back to stare at my face.

“What?” I ask curiously. “You don’t like me?”

“No, no,” he laughs, “I like you. But I’m not sure I can handle you.”

“You’re not too much for me,” I tell him, leaning closer.

“I’m not the type you should be with,” he laughs.

“But you’re all I want,” I tell him, “You’re the only man I want—despite wanting to clobber you most of the time.”

He smiles again, his eyes crinkling the way they always do. “I can’t believe I’ve been waiting all this time for you to say something like that.”

“Oh, Andrew,” I sigh, “I’ve been waiting so long for you to say that.”

“Nancy, Nancy, Nancy,” he says, kissing my nose again, grazing the tip with his teeth. His lips quirk. “That’s all I’ve been thinking about. Saying that. Hearing you say that.”

And to my surprise, he leans in and presses his lips over mine. He kisses me the way I’ve always wanted to be kissed. He pulls me close to him and I can feel his heart beating in the same frantic rhythm as mine. When he pulls away, his eyes are so full of emotion that I can barely stand to look at them.

“I want you to know that I’m not running away,” he tells me. “Not this time… Not anymore.”

It’s all I need to know. For now, at least.

And with that, I fall asleep—fall asleep right in Andrew’s arms as he tugs me into his embrace.

Chapter 17

NANCY

I wake to find the bed empty for the second time in twelve hours.

My pink nightie is still on, but my underwear is gone.

The taste of whiskey, imbibed long ago, still lingers on my tongue and the memories of last night come flooding back in a rush that makes me tingle all over.

I sucked Andrew’s cock.

He tasted me.

I told him things I never told any man before…

And somehow, it’s all right.

I know it’s all right. Because