Twisted Lies (Twisted, #4)

by Ana Huang

from both my arousal and melted ice. A noise between a gasp and a yelp climbed up my throat when he rubbed a warmed cube over my swollen clit. “You have the prettiest cunt I’ve ever seen.” Christian groaned. “Open wider for me, sweetheart.”

I spread my legs farther, and he pushed the ice inside me at the same time as he sucked my clit into my mouth. One ice cube. One flick of his tongue. One reach of his hand up to pinch my nipple. That was all it took.

I was so dazed I didn’t hear Christian switching positions until he hiked my legs up onto his shoulders. “You look so beautiful tied up and blindfolded.”

“There’s no one around, Stella. I can make you scream as loud as I want. Fuck you as hard as your pussy can take it until you come all over my cock.”

“You like that, don’t you?” he taunted. “The idea of me wrecking that tight little cunt while you’re helpless and bound?”

“Yes. Please,” I begged. “Fuck me.”

like I’d asked. No, not fucked—he ravaged me, turning me inside out with his touch and his words.

My body was bent practically double with my ankles by my ears and my hands tied together above my head while Christian pounded into me. Brutally. Mercilessly. Perfectly.

The blindfold made everything twice as intense—the sensitivity of my skin, the feeling of his cock inside me, the sounds of squeals and broken whimpers mixed with his grunts and the obscene slap of flesh against flesh.

“So tight. So wet. So mine.” A thrill went through me at the dark possessiveness in his voice. “Come for me, Stella.” He stayed buried inside me while he reached one hand down to pinch my clit.

“Good girl.” Christian kissed the tears away and slowed his thrusts, drawing out my release until he wrung every drop of pleasure from me.

“I hope that helped with your overthinking.”

“I love you,” I whispered.

“The day I met you,” he said, “was the luckiest day of my life. You’ve always been the brightest part of my world, Butterfly. And you always will be.”

“You don’t strike me as a guy who believes in luck.” “I believe in everything when it comes to you.” Including love.

The implication resonated in the timbre of his voice and the way he kissed me again, like he was drowning and I was his only source of oxygen. Vital. Precious. Loved. I melted into his embr...

I love you. My heart thrummed at the memory. It’d been a week since Stella turned my world upside down, and I was still reeling from the impact. I’d kept telling myself I didn’t believe in love, that what I felt for her wasn’t love, but she’d shattered that illusion with one simple phrase.

The minute she’d said those words and looked at me with those beautiful green eyes, I’d known the truth. I was in love with her. It’d happened slowly. Bit by bit, piece by piece, like a puzzle becoming whole, until I couldn’t deny or ignore it any longer. I believe in everything when it comes to you.

Instead, I waited until she disappeared around the corner before I walked over and retrieved the turquoise ring from the ground.

The social media star who was glued to her phone but was always there for her friends. The introvert who lived her life in the public eye online. The calm and the chaos, the silence and the storm.

“I need you to go.”

“Don’t do this.” My voice cracked. “Butterfly, please.”

But I would gladly get on my fucking knees and beg if it meant Stella would stay with me.

“Do you want to know another secret, Stella?” My voice was unrecognizable in its rawness. “I can’t say no to you.” Not when it came to the things that mattered. “But I will always be here if you need me, no matter how far in distance or time. I don’t care if we’re on different continents or if it’s five, fifty years in the future. I never want you to wake up and feel like you’re alone, because you’re not. You’ll always have me.” My eyes burned as my final, greatest truth scraped up my throat. “I love you. So fucking much.”

My hand twitched toward my gun. “Keep provoking him, and he’ll kill you.” Rhys knew me too well.

July 30 Stella, I have a confession: I never wanted a pet, not even when I was a kid. My parents asked me once if I wanted a puppy, and I told them in no uncertain terms that I did not. It’s not because I hate animals. I just always thought they were too much work for too little reward. I didn’t understand why someone would bring a dog or cat into their home, treat it like their child, and love it for years when they knew that animal’s life span was so much shorter than their own. It was like they were asking for their heart to be broken. Now, I understand. It’s because the time they spent together was worth the heartbreak. Before you get angry, I’m not comparing you to an animal. But if I had the chance to go back in time and leave the café a minute before you passed or stay in my office instead of dropping by the apartment the day you signed the lease, I wouldn’t. Even knowing what the outcome would be. Even knowing that I would eventually get my heart broken. Because all the most beautiful days of my life have been with you, and I wouldn’t trade that for anything in the world. I would rather be miserable now after having been loved by you than be happy without having ever known you.

August 6 Stella, Remember when you ran into me in the lobby the night we signed our agreement? You mentioned a date should include dinner, drinks, and hand-holding. Or, as an alternative, cuddling on a bench overlooking the river, followed by whispered sweet nothings and a good night kiss. At the time, it was the most atrocious thing I’d ever heard, but if you ever come back to me…I have it all planned out. We’ll have dinner at my favorite Italian restaurant in Columbia Heights. It’s a tiny place, barely large enough to seat a dozen people at one time, but they make the second-best gnocchi in the world (after my grandmother’s). She’s not here anymore, but when I was a kid, I went to her house after school and she spent hours teaching me how to cook. Besides my time with you, those days were my happiest. Laughing with her in the kitchen, rolling the dough, and getting flour all over ourselves while the old sixties music she loved played in the background. Her gnocchi was my favorite dish. Unfortunately, her recipe was lost after she died, but when I tried it at this restaurant…it was the closest I’d found to how she used to make it. I know I went off on a tangent, but I wanted to share that story with you. I’ve never told anyone about how I learned to cook before. Anyway, I think you would love the restaurant. After that, we’ll have drinks at a bar nearby, then go to the Georgetown waterfront and sit on a bench by the river. We can kiss and hold hands and whisper however ma...

August 12 Stella, It’s 2:30 in the morning as I write this. I haven’t slept in almost twenty-four hours. But I couldn’t go to sleep without telling you this… I’m trying, Butterfly. I’m trying so fucking hard. To stay away from you. To not think about you. To not love you. My life would be so much easier if I could move on, but I know I can’t. Even if you never forgive me. Even if you never talk ...

The only times I’d been tied up were with Christian, but that’d been consensual.

Love was believing in me even when I didn’t believe in myself. Love was quiet moments and soft kisses, breathless exhilaration and rough hands all rolled into one. Love was what Christian gave me.

It can’t be. But when I turned, there he was. Dark hair. Bright eyes. Face carved with cold, pitiless rage. Christian.

“Stella.” Relief softened the razor edges of his fury. He said my name like a prayer, a whisper so raw and heartfelt it obliterated any resistance I might’ve had.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Stella whispered. “When I was in the cabin and I thought I was about to die…the person I thought about most was you.”

I tucked her closer to my chest and, after weeks of restless nights, let the soothing rhythm of her breaths finally lull me to sleep.

We were in the warehouse I’d bought for this specific purpose. Remote, soundproofed, and guarded enough that an ant couldn’t crawl across the floor without me knowing.

“Here’s the thing, Julian.” I continued like nothing had happened. “She’ll never be yours. She was always mine. And your biggest mistake…” I dropped the bloodied knife on the table and selected a meat cleaver. “Was hurting someone who was mine.”

Don’t give him any pieces of your soul. I’d thought I didn’t have any left, but I was wrong. There was one remaining piece, and it belonged to her.

The world wasn’t black and white, no matter how much I wished it were. And sometimes, we found our happiness in the shades of gray.

“Christian,” I hissed. “We’ll get in trouble!” The curtains were drawn, and drapes covered the front door, shielding us from passersby. Our server was MIA, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t show up at any minute. “No one is here, Butterfly,” Christian drawled. “I paid the server to leave until I give him the green light. Cooks are gone. It’s just us.”

“What are you doing?” “Eating dessert.”

“Now,” I said, “I’m ready for dessert.” I spread her thighs wider, dipped my head, and devoured her. Stella’s squeals and whimpers escalated into inelegant screams as I alternated between fingering her and worshiping her clit and fucking her with my tongue. Harder, more intense than the first time, like I was dying of thirst in the desert and she was my only source of salvation.

“Like honey and spices.” I pushed my fingers deeper. She was so tight I could feel her stretching around me, inch by inch, until I was knuckles deep inside her. “Like sweetness and sin.” In. Out. Slowly and thoroughly, letting her feel every glide of friction.

“You taste…” I removed my fingers and lowered my head. “Like mine.”

Alex and Ava’s wedding took place in early October at a gorgeous vineyard in Vermont. Stunning red, orange, and yellow foliage transformed the setting into an autumnal fairy tale, and the beautiful sky draped over us like a sheet of azure, sun-warmed silk.

Across from us, Alex resembled a statue in his stillness. He was always attuned to Ava, but in that moment, he looked at her like the world was the night sky and she was the only star in existence.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to join Alex Volkov and Ava Chen in holy matrimony…”

The old, insecure me would’ve kept checking to confirm he was still there and that he wasn’t a fantasy I’d concocted. The present me knew he wasn’t. He was real, and no matter what happened, he would always be there.

Exposed wood beams crisscrossed the space, lending it an air of rustic charm, but there was nothing rustic about the custom engraved china plates, the fifty thousand dollars’ worth of luxury floral arrangements, or the world-famous singer crooning onstage. As expected, Alex had spared no expense.

“You should’ve asked him for a bathtub of diamonds,” Jules told Ava. “He would’ve made it happen.”

“You look gorgeous, Butterfly.”