Page 87 of Strictly Pretend

“I want you inside me,” I breathe against his lips. “Now.”

“Protection…”

“I’m clean. You’re clean.”And I won’t get pregnant.

There’s a rumble deep in his throat that makes every part of my body tingle. “What did I do to deserve you?” he asks me.

“You exist.”

His hands cup my ass as he lifts me up, and I reach between us, curling my fingers around his thickness. We’re not kissing now. We’re just staring at each other, like neither of us can believe how lucky we are.

I line him up against me and he lets out the softest of grunts as his head pushes against me, slowly sliding inside. Water laps over us as he lifts me up and down on him, his movements slow, his kisses warm.

My heart is hammering against my chest because everything about him feels perfect. The demanding kisses, the gentle hands, the way our bodies fit together like it’s meant to be.

His breath is ragged against my lips as I roll my hips in time to the rhythm of our hearts. I kiss him, I caress his face,my fingers sliding over his cheeks and jaw like I’m trying to memorize every plane.

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he tells me. “Every part of you. Inside and out.”

His words set off a little chain reaction in my body. They make my cells dance, my body tighten, until I can feel every ridge of him as he moves inside me. I open my mouth to tell him he’s beautiful, too, but instead only a soft gasp escapes.

“Are you close?” he murmurs.

“So close.”

He brushes his fingers against the globes of my ass, then traces the hole between them. I gasp at the shock of it, then gasp again as he caresses me.

Why the hell does that feel so good?

“Brooks…”

“You want me to stop?” he asks, pressing me softly there.

“No,” I breathe. “Just… be gentle.”

“Always.”

He does it again, pressing his finger against me, until pleasure starts to build in my stomach, my thighs, my ass, his mouth soft against my body as he moves me up and down like the ragdoll I think I’m becoming.

A moment later my orgasm explodes through my body, and he slows his thrusts even more, whispering against my mouth that I’m a good girl, that I’m so perfect, that I look like an angel in the moonlight.

And then his words stop, because he’s coming too, holding me tight as he spills inside me.

For a moment neither of us speaks. It’s all we can do to breathe. And then there’s a loud hoot, from an owl, I assume, though whoever it was sounds loudly disapproving of the way we’re disturbing them.

We look at each other and start to laugh.

“Come on,” he says, kissing me one last time. “Let’s get you to bed.”

CHAPTER

TWENTY-THREE

Emma

The morning of Cassie and Derek’s wedding dawns and it’s glamorously chaotic. As soon as we arrived back from the lake last night we showered and climbed straight into bed. When I wake up and drag myself to the bathroom my hair looks like I’ve been dragged backward through a hedge.

Or, as Brooks so charmingly put it, like I’vebeen fucked hard in a lake.

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