Deadly Lies (Deadly #3)(8)
Author: Cynthia Eden

I don’t want love. I don’t want promises of forever. I just want you. Now.

How was he supposed to turn that down?

Samantha rocked back on her heels. “There should be an electronic security system in place. You should see everyone before they—” She stopped and shook her head.

There were shadows under her eyes. Dark circles that hadn’t been there earlier on the balcony. “Samantha?” They were little better than strangers, but something was there between them. Connecting them.

She hesitated then said, “I don’t want to be alone tonight.”

Didn’t get more stark or brutally honest than that. His c**k swelled as arousal spiked through him. He could still taste her.

Her lashes lifted. “Do you want to be alone?” Her eyes widened. “Wait—you might not be—are you alone?”

Max took her hand and hauled her inside. “Not anymore.” He slammed the door shut, and his mouth crashed down on hers.

Samantha’s lush lips parted immediately for him. Her tongue swept against his, rubbing, teasing, and the light strokes seemed to go straight to his cock.

Her hands were on him, feathering over his bare chest. So hot and soft. He loved her hands. Loved them more when they were wrapped around his c**k and pumping hard and fast.

Screw everything but… her. No, screw her. Take her.

She sucked his lower lip. Drew it into her mouth and sucked, and Max’s heart ripped through his chest. Why? Why did she affect him so much?

He’d been with his share of lovers. He shouldn’t—

Samantha shoved away from him.

“What are you—”

She lowered to her knees before him. “My turn.” Her hands jerked down his jogging pants, and her mouth, sweet f**k, her mouth closed over the tip of his erection.

“Samantha.”

Her palm curled around the base of his shaft, and she leaned in toward him, taking a few more inches of erect flesh, sucking strong and tight with her mouth.

His hands sank into her hair.

She swallowed. Took more.

Her mouth moved faster. Sliding along his skin, taking him deeper as her tongue licked and learned his flesh. Deeper. More.

Max positioned her head and thrust against that hot mouth. His balls tightened, his spine tingled, and his climax bore down on him. Building, building, so close that his balls ached.

Her hands flew up, and she pulled free of his grasp in an instant. Her breath panted out. “Not yet,” she whispered.

Staring up at him, licking her lips, she yanked off her shirt and tossed it on the floor. She had on a plain white bra, but her br**sts pushed against the cups, and she made the garment look damn sexy.

She kicked off her shoes and shimmied out of her pants. Then Samantha pulled out a small packet from her back pocket.

The woman was prepared. Her fingers tore open the foil, and she smoothed the condom over his throbbing flesh.

Samantha rose before him, her body brushing against his, every smooth inch driving him insane.

Her fingers caught the waistband of her panties, then shoved them down. “Now,” she told him, that voice enveloping him.

Like he had to be told twice.

Max lifted her against him. Her legs wrapped around him. Long, supple legs. Her sex, creamy and plump, brushed against his cock.

He took two steps and pushed her back against the wall. Max braced her and thrust deep into her sex.

Christ, he was so close to exploding. His climax bore down on him, and he thrust fast, deep, hard, driving into her as the fury rode him.

Her hips were tilted down, and every glide of his c**k swept over her clit. She moaned, thrashing beneath him, and arching her hips as she fought for her release.

Faster. Faster. Deeper. Her whispered demands.

Her nails dug into his ass as she urged him on. There, there was the woman from the first night. The woman who liked the sex wild and who didn’t stop until she’d come.

Over and over.

Her sex convulsed around him. Hard, gripping contractions that worked his erection so damn well. Yes.

Max eased out of her, then plunged balls-deep. He came, growling her name, and holding her in a grip that he knew had to bruise.

Holding her. Keeping her locked tightly to him, because this time, he wouldn’t let her get away.

The scream woke Max later. A sound of terror so absolute that Max awoke with fear squeezing his own heart. He jerked up in bed and shoved the covers back.

Samantha thrashed in the bed, her pale skin gleaming in the moonlight. Her hands were up in the air, pushing out, fighting nothing, and she was choking, gasping, struggling to breathe.

“D-don’t… p-put me b-back… in…”

What the f**k?

He hit the lamp switch hard, and light flooded the room. “Samantha.”

Her back arched but her eyes stayed closed. “D-don’t…”

Max grabbed her arms and pulled her up against his chest. “Samantha!”

Her lashes flew open. “Kill… me.”

His eyes widened. What?

And he realized that her eyes were blank. The pupils were dilated and fixed and staring at a nightmare that he couldn’t see.

Her breath rattled in her chest. Holy shit, she seemed to be suffocating!

Max pressed his lips tightly against hers. Then he breathed into her mouth. A long, deep expulsion of air.

Her hands came up against his shoulders, and she shoved him back, once again surprising him with her strength.

“Wh-what’s happening?” Not the frightened voice from before.

Samantha. She was back.

But her eyes were still blank. So was her face.

He didn’t let her go. His grip grew even tighter. Hold her. Keep her safe.

Max expelled a slow breath. “Everything’s okay, Samantha.”

The sound of her swallow was too loud in the quiet room. “What did I do?” She asked, her voice stronger now.

He tried to smile, a hard feat when his heart shoved against his ribs and tension ate at his gut. “I think you just had a bad dream. We all have them.”

Her skin was cool beneath his hands, and her muscles were tense. Samantha blinked at him, then narrowed her eyes a bit. “We all have them.” Her echo was toneless.

His right hand rose and cupped her shoulder. “Want to talk about it?” It was so hard to keep his voice light and calm. Want to tell me why you dream about begging someone not to kill you?

“I don’t remember anything.” Her lips twisted. “I never remember my nightmares.” A pause. “That’s a good thing, right?”

He stared down at her, noting the soft curves of her cheeks and the light dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose. Her jaw was set, that slightly pointed chin up, and her thick hair was a tousled mane around her face.