Page 67 of Fake it With Me

“Oh shit,” he muttered. “Do not make me explode in my pants.”

I was so close to an orgasm. Every step rubbed him against my sensitive flesh.

We made it to his room and he dropped me to my feet. He closed and locked the door and then turned to look at me.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he said, his voice rough with desire. His hands found the zipper of my dress, slowly pulling it down. “I’ve been thinking about this since the moment I saw you tonight.”

“Yeah?” I teased, helping him slide the dress off my shoulders. It pooled at my feet, leaving me in just my bra and panties.

His eyes roamed over me, dark with want. “Fuck, yes.”

I reached for his shirt, unbuttoning it with shaking fingers. He was so perfectly built. Damn, his chest was every woman’s wet dream.

“My turn to stare,” I said, running my hands over his chest.

He groaned, pulling me close again, skin against skin. His hands were everywhere—my back, my hips, sliding up to unhook my bra. It fell away, and then his mouth was on my breast, his tongue circling my nipple until I gasped.

“Tell me what you want,” he said, his breath hot against my skin.

“You. I want you.”

He guided me backward. I sat down on the edge of his bed. He stood before me, his breathing hard like he had just run a marathon. I reached for his belt, unbuckling it and sliding his pants down. His cock strained against his boxer briefs.

I looked up at him as I pulled those down too. The expression on his face was pure desire. Want and need played across his face.

I took him in my hand, stroking slowly. He sucked in a sharp breath. “Liza. Damn, that feels so good.”

The first time had been a bit rushed. I didn’t feel like we had gotten to really explore and enjoy each other. With that in mind, I leaned forward and took him in my mouth.

The sound he made was like a man dying from sheer pleasure. His hand came to rest on the back of my head, not pushing, just holding. I worked him with my tongue and lips. I took my time, exploring every inch of his length with my tongue. His breathing quickened and I felt his body stiffen. It told me exactly what I was doing to him.

“Fuck, you’re going to kill me,” he groaned.

I pulled back slightly, looking up at him. “Is that a complaint?”

“Hell no.”

I took him deeper, hollowing my cheeks, using my hand in tandem with my mouth. His hips started to move, gentle thrusts that I encouraged. I loved the power of reducing the strong, controlled man to someone who could barely form coherent words.

“Liza, dammit. Fuck.”

He was close. I could feel him throbbing in my mouth. I didn’t stop. I wanted this, wanted him to come undone because of me.

He tried to pull back, but I held him there, and with a low groan he came, his whole body shuddering with the force of it. I swallowed, then pulled back slowly, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.

“Holy shit,” he breathed, looking down at me with an expression of awe.

“Good?” I asked with a flirty smile.

“Understatement of the fucking century.”

He pulled me to my feet and kissed me deeply, not caring, not hesitating. Then he guided me further onto the bed, laying me back against the pillows.

“My turn,” he said, and there was a wicked gleam in his eye.

He hooked his fingers in the waistband of my panties and slid them down my legs, tossing them aside. Then he settled between my thighs. I felt suddenly exposed, vulnerable in the best way.

“You’re perfect,” he murmured, pressing kisses to my inner thigh. “Every inch of you.”