My (Mostly) Fake Wedding - Penelope Bloom Page 0,5

excuse for a distraction and run with it. I focused on the question he’d asked instead of the blitzkrieg attack on my senses.

Letting myself stay focused on what his mouth and hands were doing felt like the path to oblivion—mutually assured destruction. I’d decided to swear off relationships after Lance because I knew how easily I drifted into that dangerous state of existence. This needed to be meaningless. Casual.

So I kept talking, even though every nerve in my body was practically singing with ecstasy and he’d only just started.

“I had business in Texas, but it went south. There was an offer from New York.” I paused again, squeezing my eyes when he added a second finger to the mix between my legs. His thumb was extended, applying friction to my clit with every luxurious plunge of his fingers inside me. “I wasn’t sure about the deal,” I said tightly. “But after Texas, I knew I’d be crazy to pass on it. So that’s where I’m going.”

“Business,” Chris mused, as if he wasn’t knuckle deep inside me and currently sending me at warp speed toward the most explosive orgasm of my life. “So you’re a career woman. I like that.”

“I’m glad you approve,” I said with a touch of sarcasm.

“What kind of business?”

I might’ve normally snapped. I could’ve told him it was ridiculous to try to have a conversation while he fucked me with his fingers. But it really did feel like I was clinging to the distraction to avoid something. I couldn’t say what it was exactly, but there was a very real, very hard to pinpoint sensation that I was balancing on the edge of a cliff.

“Your turn,” I said. I had to pause, burying my face in his chest to stifle a moan. I gathered myself, with difficulty, and began questioning him. “Why are you going to New York?”

“It’s where I play football, for starters.”

“And where this mysterious indoctrination to the church is happening tonight, right?”

Chris’ fingers paused their relentless attack on my pussy, if only for a moment. He grinned slightly, then resumed. “That’s enough talking. And if you thought I was going to let you off that easily…” he straightened, pulling his fingers from me and then lifting them to my mouth. “Taste yourself,” he commanded.

One of my eyebrows flicked up. Kinky bastard. Hot, but kinky. I obediently opened my mouth, because when the sex god pulls his fingers from your pussy and tells you to lick them clean, what else are you supposed to do, exactly?

I tasted myself on his fingers, but all I could think about was the intensity in his eyes as he stared down at me.

Chris produced a condom, pulled down his briefs, and slid it on.

Before I knew what was happening, he had freed his length, which I was flattered to see was standing at attention for me. I tried not to stare, even though I wasn’t sure why I thought he’d be embarrassed about the work of art between his legs.

He took a fistful from the front of my panties, squeezing until I felt them grip me tight. I expected him to yank them down, but he pulled them back toward himself so quickly that the thin elastic band over my hip snapped away. He dropped them to the floor with a grin.

Wonderful, I thought, even as a little dirty thrill ran through me. It seemed like I was going to finish this flight commando, thanks to Chris Rose.

Chris gripped my shoulder, then spun me so my forehead was pressed to the wall and my ass was against his hard cock. Everything he did was so purposeful and confident that I couldn’t help but fall into the rhythm with him—to let him guide me and take control. It felt good.

With one hand on my waist and one still tight on my shoulder, he slid himself between my legs, making me feel like I was about to collapse. He teased me with himself, spreading my arousal and gliding across my entrance and clit for several agonizing seconds before he bent his knees and smoothly pressed himself into me.

I gasped. He took me slowly, which was a relief because I could feel myself stretching to fit him. My walls gripped him as he rocked against me, taking a little more of me with each thrust.

I closed my eyes and let the moment be my everything.

He pushed deeper until his hips made a soft clapping sound against my ass.

And I could almost forget