Page 69 of Pretend for Me

And whether it’s my words or the way I suck her clit between my teeth, pinching it before licking it, Piper’s scream pierces the air. Her hands twist inside the covers as her thighs quake, and waves of euphoria roll through her body.

Goddamn, she looks so pretty.

Using one hand to press down on her belly and hip, I hold her inside my mouth, continuing to devour her pussy like I might not eat for another week. It’s only when she cries out my name, riding out her last pulses, that I release her. I kiss her juicy clit once more before crawling up her body with a smug smirk.

Her chest heaves, but her glassy green eyes stay on me. I press my lips to hers, letting her taste herself on me, making us both moan.

We’re lost in a dance of tongues and groans for only a few seconds when Piper reaches for my cock, grabbing and pulling it toward her.

Her eyes blaze before that wicked smile finds her lips again. “Let’s take this magic dick out for a spin.”

twenty-five

piper

You’re My Favorite Overachiever

Dev smiles, eyes blazing, his chin still covered with me, before he gets off the bed.

The man is as complex as he is layered. A dirty-talking, possessive alpha under a buttoned-up guise. A thoughtful, soft-hearted human behind a cool and calculating billionaire. He’s surprisingly real and refreshing. Surprisingly unexpected and so damn handsome, something stirs inside my chest every time I look at him.

“I had no idea you could do such things with your mouth.” I’m raised on my elbows so I can watch the fine ass man in front of me while still trying to catch my breath. “Until last night, I thought it was only used to clip out a few words and twitch whenever you were mildly amused.”

Grasping the neck of his tight T-shirt from the back with one hand, Dev pulls it off himself in one swift movement, and my mouth goes dry.

Sexy doesn’t even begin to define how he looks, all rippling abs and solid pecs. It’s like staring at a real-life version of Michelangelo’s David, except he’s got better hair, the perfect tan, and has kept up his gym routine.

Pulling his wallet from his back pocket, he takes out a condom. “And now? Has your mind been changed?”

I lick my bottom lip, watching him unbutton his jeans, letting them slide to the floor. His dick tents his boxer-briefs, and I rub my slick thighs together instinctively. God, the way I want him inside me.

“Oh, it’s been thoroughly changed,” I say, watching him drop his briefs to the ground. My breath hitches. “Now, I’ll want that mouth on me all the time.”

My eyes drag down to the V pointing to his thick cock. The one he grasps inside his massive hand, pumping it before he swipes his thumb over the pre-cum leaking from the tip.

Holy fucking hotness. The man is devastatingly beautiful, and a deadly combination of sweet, thoughtful, and considerate. The type of man who could one-hundred-percent hurtle me toward an early death.

If not death, then definitely a heart condition.

And a heart condition of that kind is so much worse than death.

He tears the packet and slides the condom over his shaft, stalking toward me again. “That’s quite the change in tone, Peter . . . seeing as your first rule was no kissing.”

Yeah, well, I’m a good-old-fashioned rule breaker, Mr. Menon. Punish me and send me on my way.

I don’t respond. Honestly, I haven’t quite processed our first kiss yet, despite the fact that it’s all I’ve thought about. Despite the fact that I pinned him against the wall as soon as we got back and kissed him again.

That kiss had created an explosion inside my ribs I’d never felt before. And when our mouths had parted, a warmth had settled where the explosion had occurred. I already know that no matter how much I try to replace that warmth with the same cool disinterest and emptiness that was there before, I’ll fail.

Because Dev Menon isn’t content to just wreak havoc on my senses and my body. He’s determined to do the same to my heart.

I reach out as soon as his knees find the mattress again, gliding my hand over his sheathed cock. The weight of him inside my palm has another pool of want dripping from me.

A huff of air passes through his clenched teeth, and his head falls back when I stroke him. “Jesus, Piper,” he croaks.

“How long has it been for you?”

It’s not something I’d intended on asking. It irritates me to even think about someone else touching him this way. But sometimes my mouth speaks before my brain has given it a green light.

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