When Lies Unfold

Chapter 57

A moan iswhat initially rouses me. When I realize it came from me because two strong, callused palms hold my thighs wide while a mouth devours my pussy, I truly wake up.

Though it’s still dark outside with only faint shafts of moonlight piercing through the slats of the blinds, I’d know the faint outline of that tattooed body anywhere.

Situated between my legs, he creates such a strong suction on my clit that it causes me to arch and shamelessly press myself against his mouth.

His answering moan vibrates against my sensitive flesh as he continues to place openmouthed kisses to me.

His tongue dives inside for long, thorough licks before he refocuses on my clit once again. He pushes a thick finger inside, pumping in and out.

“Santy.” My hands find my nipples, and I tug on them, mindless to anything but the pleasure he’s giving me.

His sound of approval rumbles against my throbbing clit before he slides another thick finger inside me. The sounds of my wet arousal mingle with my labored breaths.

When he grazes his teeth over my clit, my hips buck, and my thighs shake. One of my hands moves from my breast to tangle in his hair. My fingers tighten around the lengthier strands, urging him on.

“Mmm,” he murmurs against my slick entrance. “Like when you do that.” He gives my lips a slow lick. “Tells me how fuckin’ bad you want me. This pussy’s greedy right now, isn’t it?”

“Santy—” I break off with a gasp when his tongue darts lower to flick against my ass.

“What’s this pussy want? My tongue or my cock?” He glides those two long fingers in and out of my wetness while his tongue teases my rear entrance again. “Either way, I’m gonna be playin’ with this right here.”

“Anything.” My head thrashes against the pillow, my answer breathless. “I just need you.”

A rumbled “Fuck” reaches my ears a second before he drags his tongue over the tight ring of my ass, saturating it with his saliva. The nerve endings go wild when he presses the pad of his thumb against it.

I should be concerned that I’m going to strangle him with my thighs, but I’m mindless to anything else but his touch.

He fits his lips around my clit and fucks me with those two fingers while his other thumb edges its way deeper inside my ass.

My body arches as he hooks his fingers while simultaneously batting his tongue wildly against my clit. I buck against him, writhing as I tumble over the edge, tremors wracking my entire body.

My inner muscles contract around his fingers, my ass flexing around his thumb. He keeps fucking me through my release until the shudders subside. Only once my thighs slump lifelessly on the bed does he raise his head.

Dark eyes collide with mine, and I watch in wonder as he slides his fingers from my pussy. A shocking wave of new arousal mounts within me when he sucks them clean. Pressing a soft kiss to the inside of my thigh, he studies me. “Gotta be honest.”

Holding my gaze, he lands another delicate kiss to my thigh. “Even though I said I’d try and be gentle with you this next time, I want nothin’ more than to crawl up there and bury my cock in you. Don’t know that I can do gentle this time ’round.”

He plants another kiss to my opposite thigh. “Especially after that.” He gives my leg a gentle nip, his low rumbled “Mmm, so damn good” reigniting my arousal.

When he pauses to peer up at me, my lungs seize for a moment. His hair is loose and falls around his face, making him even more lethally sexy.

But the fact that he’s asking—that he’s not just taking—does something all-too dangerous to my heart.

When I crook my finger at him and whisper, “You better get up here,” the boyish grin that stretches his lips sends me free-falling. And I know there’s no going back from this.

When this ends—and it will—I’ll be leaving behind my heart.

I’m seated across from Santy at breakfast, the kitchen quiet since it’s still early and Alma’s not up yet.

He watches me over the rim of his coffee cup, amusement sparkling in his eyes as I devour a ton of bacon alongside my croissant and a helping of gallo pinto.

It dawns on me that he doesn’t have bacon or a croissant on his plate aside from some scrambled eggs and a smaller helping of the rice and beans.

Suddenly self-conscious, I gesture to my plate. “Are you not having any bacon or a croissant?”

“Nah.” He shakes his head. “Don’t normally eat that.” Setting his cup down, he pats his flat stomach. “Gotta stay in shape somehow.”

I frown, my words emerging slowly. “But I thought that was why Javier’s been making all this. I assumed this was what you preferred.”

“No.” That’s it. That’s all he says.

My confusion gives way to a dawning realization. “You don’t eat any of this?”

“No.” He takes another drink of coffee, glancing at the sleek watch on his wrist. “I asked Javier to prepare it ’cause they’re your favorites.”

He says this like it’s nothing. As if anyone would do something like that—especially for someone they initially viewed as a threat.

Before I realize it, I’m out of my chair and circling the table to take his face in my hands to plant a kiss on his lips. His hands automatically settle at my waist, and when I lean back, he stares at me with surprise.

A sudden barrage of shyness hits me, and I whisper, “Thank you.”

“For what? Feedin’ you?” With a grunt, he shrugs off the compliment. “Just makin’ sure you were gettin’ enough to eat, is all.”

But I know better. I just didn’t see it initially. He takes care of people. He isn’t the evil monster I originally thought he was.

And I’ve fallen for him—I’m head-over-heels gone for this man. Even as my heart sings, it twists painfully in the next instant. Because there’s no future for us.

I may be in love with Santiago Hernández, but I could never truly be a part of his world.

Because Lola Arias doesn’t actually exist.