Possessed by Lies (Truth or Lies Book 5) Page 13

  Enzo grabs a strand of my hair and rubs it between his thumb and fingers, entranced with the single glistening strand. And even though he’s only touching my hair, I can feel it, like a jolt to my heart. “The entire world isn’t against us, stingray. If anything, I would say we are our own worst enemies.”

  He’s right. We’ve self-sabotaged our relationship so many times. But maybe it’s because we both know deep down how this is going to end. And it’s easier if we aren’t together.

  “You aren’t going to tell me you love me?” Enzo asks.

  “No.”

  “Even though it’s the truth?”

  I bite my lip as I choose my next words. Do I love Enzo? Yes. Did I always love him? Yes and no. I loved him before I should have. Even when he was being the biggest asshole, I knew he was a man I could love. A man who would choose me over everything else if I made him fall in love with me. And now that I have, I regret it. Because I put an entire empire of men and women at risk by making him choose me over them. They will never trust him again, not without him turning on me.

  “The truth and lies don’t matter. All that has ever mattered is winning. You need to focus on winning the game. That is your destiny, I’m just a distraction,” I say.

  Enzo growls with a deep frown etching lines all over his face. His face has reddened, and his eyes darken like a storm in the night. If he wasn’t pissed at me before, he is now.

  “I don’t give a fuck about winning the game, Kai. I don’t want the company. I want you!”

  He doesn’t touch me as he speaks. He’s afraid he would hurt me if he touched me. And I’m scared if he were to touch me, the sparks flying off him would ignite the love inside me like a fire I will never be able to put out.

  I love Enzo.

  But it’s not enough.

  And it’s not true until I speak the words.

  I can love him in silence. I can feel the bond in quiet. I can help him win the game and regain the trust of his team. I can help him kill Felix. But I can’t tell him, I love him. Because if I love him out loud, he might put me above the team that depends on him, and I might put him above the safety of my baby. Neither of us can be selfish when we have other people who depend on us.

  But I can tell from Enzo’s rage flying around the room that he won’t accept my silence. He needs me to speak. He needs me to love him. Can’t my heart beating for him be enough?

  “Truth or lie,” I start.

  Enzo pants heavily, his nostrils flaring like a raging bull, his growl deafening as he paces, trying to let go as he waits for me to speak. Finally, he halts to a stomp, his panting all that is left to show how pissed off he is.

  “I’ve never ordered a drink from Starbucks,” I say.

  Enzo huffs, clearly not on board with this version of truth or lies. He’d prefer if I revealed my secret. Or if I told him I love him. But that’s not what this is about. This is about breaking the tension. It’s about revealing the stupid little things in our heart no one else knows. It’s about connecting in a normal, human way instead of suffering the pain we’ve both been dealt.

  “Truth,” Enzo says, with an intense fury behind the single word.

  I raise an eyebrow as I push into his space, but I don’t touch him. Other than when Enzo touched a single strand of my hair, we haven’t touched each other.

  “You’re losing your senses old man, because that was clearly a lie. Who in their right mind has never ordered a drink from Starbucks?” I ask, eyeing his shirt.

  “I haven’t.”

  “You’ve never ordered a drink from Starbucks?” my voice goes higher in disbelief as I speak.

  “No. Why would I when I’ve grown up around constant butlers to get my drink for me?”

  I roll my eyes. “You’re missing out. There is something about ordering an overpriced drink in their cups that does something to you. Makes you feel important when they call out your name.”

  “I’ll have to give it a try,” he says, his gaze following my hungry one, staring at his black T-shirt like it’s the enemy. I want it off. I want his hard chest. I want his tight abs. I want his thick arms wrapped around me.

  Enzo smirks and then removes his shirt.

  “What are you doing?” I ask.

  “I lost. Clearly, I need to remove an item of clothing.”

  “We never agreed to any sort of bet.”

  He laughs. “Your eyes did.”

  Truth.

  And then I’m drooling as I stare at his impossible abs. I want him to lose more. I want more items of clothing gone. I want to fuck him, even if we have to hide it from the world. Even if the team realizes I’m fucking him, it doesn’t mean I love him. Or that he loves me. I can tell them it’s purely physical, and because of the weird tension of the game, it means nothing.

  “Truth or lies,” Enzo starts. “I want you to remove your pants.”

  I smirk. Too easy. “Truth.”

  Enzo leans into my personal space. “Lie. I want you to remove your shirt. I want you to keep your pants and panties on until you are so soaked that when you have to get dressed again, you will have a constant reminder the rest of the day of how badly you want me. And you’ll regret not telling me you love me.”

  Well, I walked right into that one. It’s my turn to strip an item of clothing since I lost. He wants me to remove my shirt, but he knows that’s not the type of girl I am. So I strip off my jeans.

  He growls with a light grin. His eyes deepening with my defiance. He likes being in control, but he also likes it when I defy him.

  “You’ll pay for that.”

  I lick my lip. “I can’t wait.”

  “Your turn, baby.”

  “Impatient?”

  “Never, not when it comes to you. I want to savor every fucking moment. And I can last a lot longer than you. You will be begging for me to touch you by the end of this game. And then you will explode on my fingers before I even get my cock inside you.”

  I pout wanting to argue with him, but we both know he’s right. And I won’t apologize for wanting him.

  “I used to do gymnastics as a kid,” I say, deadpanned.

  Enzo sucks in a breath at my admission.

  “Truth.”

  I chuckle. “Lie, I never had the money to do gymnastics. But why is it every guy’s dream the woman they are fucking is a gymnast? Does it really matter if I can throw my legs over my head when you fuck me?”

  Enzo kicks off his shoes, which I assume is the item of clothing he’s going to remove for losing, but he doesn’t stop. He undoes his jeans, and they fall to the floor, until he’s standing in just his boxers, his erection on full display and impatiently waiting for me to touch him.

  “You forget, I’ve seen you with your legs flipped over your head. And yes, it’s fucking sexy as hell.”

  I pant. Fuck me, I think. But we are in the middle of a weird power play between us. And I won’t give in. I won’t be the one who folds first.

  “I was enrolled in gymnastics as a kid,” Enzo says.

  I laugh. “Lie.”

  “Truth.”

  “No way!”

  Enzo shrugs, takes a step back, and then casually does a backflip.

  Holy fuck! How did I not know this?

  My mouth has fallen open, and I’m drooling for real this time at this sexy man. I never knew I was so attracted to a man who could flip like that. But it’s incredibly sexy to know Enzo knows how to move his body like that.

  “My father enrolled me in karate, gymnastics, even ballet. He thought it was important for me to know how to move my body during fights. I only did gymnastics for two years, but I was pretty good at it.”

  I shake my head. So much I don’t know about him. So much I want to know. I grab the hem of my shirt and slowly lift over my head.

  Enzo gasps.

  I’m afraid my belly has popped, and it’s clear I’m pregnant. But when I lift the shirt off, I know that’s not why he gasped. He just loves my body as much as I lo
ve his.

  I’m standing in my bra and panties.

  He’s standing in his boxers.

  We should stop this game.

  We should fuck.

  But making the first move feels like we would be surrendering to the other. I would be admitting I love him. He would be admitting he doesn’t care if I say I love you back.

  So neither of us make a move.

  My next truth or lie comes from wanting to give Enzo something. I can’t say I love you, but I can clear up part of my feelings. “I hate you.”

  The room stills at my words. Enzo stops breathing, stops moving, and I swear his heart stops beating.

  I stare at him, begging him to speak so I can tell him it’s a lie. I no longer hate him.

  But he takes his time.

  “Truth,” he finally says with a tick to his jaw.

  The pain in that single world is too much. I shake my head. “That’s a lie. I don’t hate you, Enzo.”

  A slow grin spreads on his face. “I know, I just wanted to do this.” He shoves his boxers down, freeing his enormous cock.

  Fuck me. Please, fuck me.

  He smirks at my reaction. I’m panting, drooling, and begging. Don’t give in! Not yet! But if this game doesn’t end in the next five seconds, I’m going to tackle him.

  We both circle each other as we get closer, but still don’t touch each other. So close, so far.

  “I know the truth about why you won’t say I love you,” he whispers.

  My face falls. He knows my secret? He knows I’m pregnant? Did Langston or Liesel tell him?

  My eyes search the depths of his, trying to figure out the truth. Does he know?

  “Lie,” I say finally. He doesn’t know. He just knows I’m hiding something.

  His face drops in pain. He didn’t know if it was a truth or lie. He was holding onto hope the only reason I won’t say I love him is because of him and Felix. But it’s not. It’s because I’m pregnant and loving Enzo puts my child at risk.

  The silence spreads between us. The pain consumes us. And our love fills us. Even if it is never spoken, it’s there. Taunting us with what we could be, if only our lives were different. If only, we were normal. If only, we weren’t constantly in danger. If only…

  “Why won’t you tell me you love me, Kai?” Enzo finally speaks, giving me a chance to stop the secrets. To tell him the truth.

  “If I told you the truth, I would have to let you go. You would make me run away. We couldn’t be together. At least not with what we are currently facing, and I’m not ready to give you up yet.”

  15

  ENZO

  I’M NOT ready to give you up yet.

  Her words burn into me. And they are exactly how I feel. I’m not ready to give her up yet either. I will never be ready to give her up. Ever.

  And her secret could tear us apart.

  If that’s the truth, then I don’t want to know it. I can live without knowing everything about her. As long as she’s mine, I don’t care.

  Kai’s afraid of losing the empire to Felix if we publicly show how much we love each other. And she thinks if she speaks it out loud to me, she won’t be able to hide it around the team. I hate to tell her the team already thinks we love each other, and there is nothing she can do to change that. The only reason they voted her in, and me out, is because Felix forced me to choose her over them. And how fast she reacted on her feet. She can make as good, if not better, leader than I can. I just don’t know if she wants the job or not.

  None of that will stop me from showing her how much I need her now. How much I love her. If she doesn’t want to say it—fine. But I will make it as hard as fucking possible for her to keep the words from falling off her swollen lips.

  “I’m scared,” Kai says, her voice trembling as she stands in front of me in nothing but her black bra and lace panties. She couldn't have chosen a more enticing outfit to seduce me if she tried.

  “Why?” I breathe. The last time I fucked her, I thought I obliterated her demons. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe it wasn’t as good for her as I thought.

  “Because I want you more than I should. And every time I let myself feel anything for you, any time I let myself hope, we get ripped apart again a moment later.”

  She’s right. The closer we get to each other, the harder the storm comes crashing through to break us apart.

  I want to promise her it won’t happen again. That no one can tear us apart permanently. That Felix can’t do it. That no enemy can. That none of the company can. Nothing can hurt us again. But it would be a lie, and I don’t want to lie to her. So I answer honestly.

  “I’m scared too. But loving you is worth it, no matter the danger that follows. I love you. If I die tomorrow because I loved you today, then so be it. I wouldn’t change my feelings for anything,” I say, brushing my fingers to touch her pouty bottom lip.

  The touch brings her alive. And her reaction tells me everything she won’t say. She loves me too, and she doesn’t regret anything either.

  Slowly, she unhooks her bra, letting it drop to the floor, then she takes a step back as she slips out of her panties until I can see all of her.

  “Show me how much you love me,” she says.

  I grab her neck, our mouths open and connect in a brutal kiss. She wants me to show her how much I love her, but I know from the second our lips touch that we won't be making love. We are both too charged for that. We are going to battle with our bodies just like we do during the games.

  Her nails claw at my chest as our bodies collide together. Begging me for more of me than I’m already giving her.

  I fist her hair, pulling her head back to break the hungry kisses that have turned into full on pants. I know from experience with her she is going to come quickly, explode before I’ve even had my fill of her.

  “You will not come without my permission,” I say sternly.

  She whimpers defiantly in my grasp, her tongue licking her bottom lip as she begs me for more kisses without a word.

  My eyes lock in like missiles on her lips.

  “Don’t act like you control me, you don’t.” She slips her fingers slowly over her breasts, rubbing each of them, taking her time while I still grasp her hair, giving her a stern look. But she continues her defiant movements, slipping her hand between her legs and rubbing herself viciously.

  She moans at the touch of her fingers against her clit.

  “Are you going to fuck me? Or am I going to come without you?” she asks, her eyelashes fluttering innocently at me.

  There is nothing innocent about what she’s doing. She’s getting me riled up, on purpose.

  I growl as I grab her hand, removing it from between her legs.

  “This pussy is mine,” I say, as I take her fingers in my mouth one by one and lick all her sweet juices from her fingers.

  “Mine,” I say again.

  She grins. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes,” I hiss.

  I grab both of her wrists in one hand as the other lingers on her hip. I walk her back to the bed, denying her the kisses she is begging for. My eyes devour her instead.

  “Beg for me, baby,” I say, as I push her back onto the bed.

  Her legs spread immediately for me, and her hands start making their way back between her legs. I grab them, stopping her from touching herself again.

  I give her a warning look. “Mine.”

  She cocks her head, seductively. “Then touch me already.”

  I growl. “I’m in control.”

  She shakes her head. “That has never been the truth. We both fight for control every chance we get. And you love it.”

  She’s right. I do.

  I grab her by the waist and swing her ass up across my lap as I sit on the edge of the bed—my hand, rubbing her bare ass slowly, taunting her.

  “What are you doing?” she asks, her voice breathy.

  “Punishing you for disobeying me.”

  “I never—”

 
I slap her ass.

  She yelps, but I know from the heat of her voice she likes it as much as she hates is. As with everything else in our relationship.

  “You disobeyed me. I told you to remove your shirt, and instead, you took your pants. I told you I would punish you, and I am. Do you want more?” I ask.

  It takes her a moment to decide. “Yes.”

  I slap her other cheek, watching as the redness spreads. “Do you still want to disobey me?”

  “Yes, every chance I get if this is the punishment.”

  I chuckle lightly, throwing her on her back onto the bed. I climb over her. Not touching her, just watching her.

  She reaches out to touch me, but I grab her wrist.

  “You want me?”

  “Yes,” she breathes.

  I kiss her palm.

  She squirms beneath me.

  I glance down between her legs. She’s soaked, swollen, and so ready for me. My girl is always ready for me. I’ve barely touched her, and if I lick between her legs, she will come. I want her to come; I want her to have all the pleasure in the world. But I’m selfish. I want her to come on my cock first. So I have to be careful where I touch her or she’ll combust.

  “What do you want, baby?”

  She arches her back, trying to touch me, but I raise above her, not letting her until she’s on the edge of coming without a touch.

  “Your cock. Fuck me, please.”

  Her words undo me. I grab her hips and sink myself deep inside her in one stroke.

  Our moans roar together with intense pleasure. This is worth living for. This is worth dying for.

  I don’t dare move inside her. I’ve already pushed too far, and my punishment is waiting for her to stretch and accommodate me. So I wait. Long torturous seconds pass.

  Her eyes glisten with the fullness she is feeling.

  Finally, she says, “Fuck me, Enzo.”

  I can’t speak anymore. My cock does all the talking as I move one long stroke after another inside her.

  Her hips meet my thrusts, and soon our tongues are tangling together again. I slow my strokes, our bodies no longer fighting. We don’t speak words meant to torture each other.