Twisted Lies (Twisted, #4)

by Ana Huang

“Christian…” “Love is nothing but a word.”

“This isn’t about words. It’s about us. Do you think I would disrupt my schedule and fly to Hawaii in the middle of a workweek for anyone else?” “It’s a nice destination,” I said weakly. “I thought it was obvious, but in case it isn’t, you’re mine, Stella.” His touch branded my skin with hot possessiveness. “I don’t want to see other women, and I sure as fuck don’t want you seeing other men.” Ice froste...

I was used to being alone. Even when I was surrounded by people, a part of me isolated itself until I felt like I was watching a movie of my life instead of living it.

I looked down at our entwined hands and couldn’t stop my heart from expanding so much it made it hard to breathe. I am in so much trouble.

“I did have one question,” I said before the glass fully reached his fleshy lips. “When you groped my date at the event last night, which hand did you use?”

“I’m not interested in your apology. I’m interested in an answer.”

“Which. Hand?”

“R-right.” “I see.” My smile returned. “Put the drink down.” He was holding it with his right hand.

I waited until Frank’s palm hit the wooden surface before I pulled the blade from my drawer and drove it through his hand. Flesh and bone yielded like butter to the cold, razor-sharp steel.

An inhuman howl ripped through the room while I frowned at the blood pooling on the vintage mahogany.

“But if you ever touch, look at, or so much as think about Stella again…”

“Your hand won’t be the only thing I’ll chop off.”

“Ah, I forgot you wanted to try the whiskey.” I picked up his glass and tilted it. The contents dripped onto his ravaged hand until the glass was empty and Frank’s renewed screams bounced off the walls.

“Don’t worry about reimbursing me for the wasted alcohol,” I said. “I’ll take it out of your account. Argent Bank, account number 904058891314, routing number 087945660, correct?”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” I patted his cheek. “Let’s keep this between us, shall we? I’d hate for us to have another chat.”

“I changed my mind.” I turned. “I’m not in a good mood after all.” The gunshot ripped through the air. Frank slumped onto the desk with a hole in the back of his head and open, lifeless eyes.

“I can think of something that’ll help you relax.” Christian did as I asked. “Another massage?” he drawled, but his eyes darkened when I sank onto my knees before him. “Sort of.” I reached for his belt. His hand gripped my wrist before I made contact, and the air shifted into something heavier, more condensed. “What,” he said, his voice dropping to a rough pitch that made my thighs clench, “are you doing?”

“Fuck, Stella.” Christian’s tortured groan sent another arrow of lust to my core. “That feels so fucking good, sweetheart.”

“I knew you could take it. Every inch, just like that.” His praise washed over me as I gagged around the base of his cock. “Good girl.”

“I can feel how wet your cunt is.” Christian pulled my head back so I stared straight up at him, my eyes watering from taking him so deep for so long. “Does this turn you on, hmm? Grinding against my leg while you choke on my cock?”

“Mmmph.” My muffled moan of affirmation cut off in a gasp when he abruptly pulled me off him, picked me up, and pushed me against the window in one fluid motion.

Desire pooled between my legs at the press of glass against my cheek and the ...

I loved when he was like this. Rough. Demanding. ...

“When you come…”

“It’ll be with my cock inside your pussy, not your throat.”

It was made of tinted glass so people couldn’t see inside, but there was still something so deliciously dirty about being taken against it while people went about their lives outside, oblivious to what was happening above their heads.

There was no trace of the refined CEO. No suits, no polite charm, only his cock filling me up and his hand around my throat while he fucked me like an animal from behind.

“I love when you beg so sweetly for me.” He buried his face in my neck and nipped at the skin. “Do you need to come, hmm?” “Yes.” My answer spilled out in a sob. “Then be a good girl and push that pretty little cunt back on me.”

I obeyed without thinking. I arched my back so I could fuck back at him while he gripped my hips with both hands and slammed me onto him. Broken squeals and whimpers fell out as my body shook like a rag doll’s from the combined force of our efforts.

“Just like that,” he groaned. “You look so beautiful like this, spread wide with my cock buri...

Christian’s hold on my throat tightened while he reached around and pinched my nipple with his other hand. “Come for me, sweetheart.” That was all it took.

“Are you sure a month isn’t too long?” Traces of doubt lingered. “We can’t just up and leave for that long.” “I’m a billionaire. We can do whatever we want.”

“So does Italy live up to your expectations?” I asked. “Nope.” An impish smile appeared at my raised brow. “It’s exceeded them. This place is…” She sighed. “Incredible. I mean, look at it.”

“I’d rather look at you,” I said.

“For someone who claims he’s not a romantic, you say the most romantic things.”

“I’m onto you, Christian Harper. Beneath that hard, cynical exterior…” She pressed her hand flat against my chest. “You’re a softie at heart.”

Only for you. I lifted her hand and curled mine protectively around it.

Stella rested her head on my shoulder and stared dreamily at the landscape. “I’m in love with this place.” I wrapped an arm around her waist and drew her closer. My eyes lingered on the delicate lines of her profile, tracing a path from the stray dark curls billowing around her face to the sparkle in her eyes and the curve of her lips. I didn’t care much for art, but if I could immortalize her in that moment as a painting, I would. The setting sun cast a gorgeous glow over the island, but I didn’t bother looking at the view. I kept my gaze on Stella. “Me too.”

“What are you thinking about?” “About how this doesn’t feel real,” I said softly. “It’s too good to be true.” Every time something good happened to me, something terrible lurked in the wings, waiting to drag me down from my high. My relationship with Christian had been perfect so far, but a part of me was waiting for that inevitable crash. “It is real.” He pressed his mouth to the base of my throat. “And if it isn’t, I’ll find a way to make it real.” His kisses burned a path up my neck to my mouth. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, Stella.”

“Good. Now…” He hooked a finger in the string of my bikini. “Let’s quiet that overactive mind of yours, shall we?”

“How do you propose we do that?” His wicked smile curled like a sensual wisp of smoke in my stomach. “There’s plenty of rope on the boat, Butterfly.”

“Here?” I squeaked.

“No one will see us. I promise.” Christian watched me carefully, his eyes like pools of golden-dipped amber in the sunlight. “Do you trust me?”

I would never tell him because I didn’t want to inflate his ego to Jupiter-size proportions, but I was convinced Christian could bring down the stars if he wanted.

My reservations melted when I felt the first bite of the rope around my wrists. I’d taken my bikini off at his orders, and I lay faceup on the cushioned seat at the end of the boat while he bound my wrists together above my head.

The tighter the ties, the we...

Still, my body tightened with surprise when I saw the silk scarf in his hands. “If you want me to take it off, tell me,” Christian said. “Okay.”

I heard a soft clink and the nearing of footsteps. My muscles pulled taut, waiting for— A soft noise of surprise escaped when something cold pressed between my breasts. An ice cube. It didn’t touch my nipples, but they immediately hardened from the proximate chill. “It’s a hot day,” Christian said lazily. “We need to cool you off before we get started.”

My nipples weren’t just hard anymore; they were almost painful with need as he circled them with the cube and rubbed it over the firm peaks. Just when I couldn’t take it anymore, when the pleasure and pain formed an unbearable burn, the wet warmth of Christian’s mouth replaced the cold. The sudden change in temperature sent shock waves through my body. “Christian,” I gasped. “Oh God.”

or the way I tugged and twisted that made everything feel impossibly erotic. It was the play between hot and cold, the heightening of my senses due to the blindfold, and the way he took his time pleasuring every inch of my body.