Page 30 of The Lie

I want him.

Even if it’s only for one night.

Even if tomorrow everything changes.

Right now, I need to feel something other than grief. I want to forget, even for a moment, how heavy everything has been.

Bennett draws out of the kiss, and when his hooded eyes meet mine, I see the heat burning there. “Last chance to stop this, sweetheart,” he murmurs. “Because if this goes any further, I don’t know if I’ll have the restraint to pull back.”

The honesty in his words sends a shiver through me. “Don’t stop,” I whisper as I draw his mouth back to mine.

Before I even realise it, I’m lifted off my feet and placed on top of the counter. For a moment, I can only stare at him. At the man who walked into my storm and somehow became the one place I felt safe.

Bennett’s eyes remain locked with mine as his big, strong hands glide over my black stockings and underneath my skirt, pushing it up until it’s bunched around my hips.

As soon as I widen my legs, his gaze drops, catching on the black lace of my underwear, before slowly travelling to the lace-trimmed stockings covering my upper thighs. A low sound rumbles in the back of his throat, sending a shiver down my spine.

“You’re so fucking sexy, Poppy,” he murmurs, stepping between my legs and crashing his mouth into mine.

I can feel his thick, hard erection pulsing behind the zipper of his trousers as he grinds himself against my sensitive flesh. That movement has me throwing my head back and moaning.

Bennett’s hand moves between us, circling my clit through the lace. “Fuck, Poppy.”

My fingers curl around his leather belt, tugging him closer. “I need you, Bennett.” My words come out like a plea.

“I need you too,” he grunts, peppering kisses across my jawline and burying his face in my neck. “I need you so fucking much.”

His fingertips slip underneath the elastic of my underwear and glide through the moisture pooling between my legs. I buck my hips the moment he buries a finger knuckle deep, crooking it and rubbing against some magic place inside me.

I’ve had boyfriends over the years, so it’s not as though this is new to me, but I’ve never felt anything like this. I’ve never been this aware of another person, or consumed by the need to be so close to someone.

Bennett Sinclair makes every man I’ve dated before him look like a boy who had no idea what he was doing.

My hand fumbles as I reach for his belt buckle. If his finger can make me feel like this, I can’t wait to see what his cock can do.

I somehow manage to get it undone, but when I pop the button on his trousers, he freezes and groans, “Fuck,” against my heated skin. “I don’t have a condom.”

He draws back, and the anguish in his silvery-grey eyes is impossible to miss. “I’m on the pill,” I say.

The admission makes him wince. He closes his eyes for a brief moment before opening them again. When he does, there’s conflict written all over his face. “Poppy ...”

“It’s been a long time,” I admit quietly. “Long enough that I almost forgot what it feels like to let someone this close.”

His jaw tightens. “You don’t have to do this because you’re hurting.”

“I’m not.” The words come out steadier than I expect. “I’m doing this because, for the first time in days, I don’t feel alone.” My voice catches. “Don’t make me beg, Bennett. I just ... I need something that reminds me I’m still here. That I’m more than my grief.”

His expression softens, and for a long moment, neither of us says a word. I know the second his mind is made up, because he withdraws his finger from inside me and drags down the zipper of his trousers. “I’ll be gentle,” he says, freeing his erection from the confines of his boxers and tugging my underwear to the side.

“Don’t.”

His brow furrows. “Don’t what?”

“Be gentle. Don’t treat me like I’m going to break.”

For a heartbeat, he just stares at me as something raw flickers across his face. “My sweet Poppy,” he murmurs, a smile tugging at one corner of his mouth. “You’re far from breakable, sweetheart. You’re going through something incredibly difficult, but you keep putting one foot in front of the other, and that’s what makes you one of the strongest and most resilient people I know.”

His words settle somewhere deep, because he truly sees me. Not the version of myself I’ve been forcing everyone else to believe in, but the woman underneath it all. The one who is tired, grieving, yet still standing.