Page 22 of Fake Crown

“Tell me why you were laughing,” he says.

“You’re going to think it’s dumb.”

“Nothing you’ve ever said to me has been dumb,” he says while he tries to wave his key across the lock without dropping me.

I cling to his neck, and the door pops open.

He carries me to the bed, and he tosses me into the center of the mattress. I laugh, and he hovers over me, an arm braced on either side of my head.

“Tell me,” he says, and his gaze is narrowed.

Honest or honest adjacent? “That was the best first kiss I’ve ever had.”

“Ever?” He puffs out his chest. “And the second kiss?”

“Best second kiss too.”

“Jesus.” He lets out a low whistle. “I’m really setting myself up here.”

“Can you score the trifecta?” I tease.

“I’m on board with the scoring part,” he says. “In this instance, I’m playing the long game. By the end of the weekend, I’ll be the best you’ve ever had. See if I can mount a perfect score.”

“Ooo,” I moan. “I do enjoy being mounted, but the dismount is critical. Can you stick the landing?” I do my best to make it sound as dirty as possible.

“I’m excellent under pressure, but if you keep making those noises and using that tone, I’ll also be the fastest you’ve ever had.”

“I have heard you’re quick off the blocks.” I laugh.

“The quickest,” he says. His teasing air fades, and he searches my face. “You sure? There’s no expectation—”

I drag him down so his lips are a hair’s breadth from mine. “Just fuck me already.”

He chuckles against my lips, but his laughter fades when he deepens the kiss. He slides his hand from my ankle to my thigh. “God, your skin is so soft. I’ve wanted to touch you like this all day.”

“Yeah? All day?” This time the huskiness in my voice isn’t faked. Just the thought of being with him is enough to make my core throb with need. No need to worry about the dismount. I could probably dismount myself right now.

He kisses a trail from my collarbone to my earlobe, and his teeth graze the sensitive skin. With his fingers, he draws the sleeve of my dress down my arm.

Part of me expected him to rush through this first time. We’ve been teasing each other all day, but there’s so much reverence in how he’s touching me, as though he can’t believe he gets to. His attitude is causing an unexpected warmth to course through me that has nothing to do with sex. I shake my head to clear my thoughts.

Concern enters his expression, and he backs off. “You okay?”

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” I say.

“Easy to solve.” His shirt is already partially unbuttoned, and he yanks his shirt over his head, then he stands to let his suit pants pool to the floor at his ankles.

In just his boxer briefs, the guy is breathtaking. So many well-defined muscles everywhere. He’s a chiseled masterpiece. How did none of Val’s photos do him justice?

“Wow,” I murmur.

“You haven’t even seen the best part.” He tugs on my hand, so I come to stand beside him.

“During the main event, I’ll try to come up with something better than wow.”

“As a suggestion, ‘it’s so big’ is always a welcome comment.” He suppresses his smile.

I run my fingertips over the outline of his erection, and then I meet his gaze. “It’s so big and hard.” Not a lie. “I can’t wait to feel you inside me.” Also not a lie.