Page 96 of The Purest Fake

“The fact that you can carry me like this is sexy as fuck. I’m not some little thing.”

“No, you’re perfect,” he says. “I couldn’t mean that more. You’re tall and statuesque and you’re a woman people notice. You command attention without even trying.”

His sweet words have me in a chokehold. I husk out his name and squeeze him tighter with my arms and legs.

He gets the door open and delivers me to the bed, gently tipping me backward. I splay out like a starfish while he closes the door and secures the lock.

As he starts back toward the bed, I ask, “How do you feel about undressing me?”

He grins. “Is this a trick question?” He slips his shoes off.

I laugh. “Not at all.”

He rubs his hands together with eagerness and then unzips my knee-high boots. “Christ, these make your legs look a mile long,” he says, pulling them from my feet. They land on the rug with a dull thud. Placing both knees on the mattress, he positions himself between my legs. His caresses begin at my ankles and continue on in an upward trajectory. As his hands climb, they drag my loose skirt higher.

When he reaches the top of my black thigh-high stockings, he lets out a loud groan and asks, “Are you trying to kill me?”

I smile. “No, but Autumn might be. She’s the one who packed my bag. Wait until you see the rest.”

He pauses, staring into my eyes. “You’re the sexiest woman in the world.”

“I’m glad you think so.”

“I fucking do.”

I hold my breath as he pushes the material higher, inch by inch, until my sheer black panties are revealed. “Sweet Jesus.” He slides both of his palms up the front of each thigh before slipping inward, framing my pussy between them. “I can see your lips through the material.” He sounds like a kid in a candy store. “My mouth is watering. I have to taste you right fucking now.”

He won’t hear any protests from me.

While he drags my skirt down my legs, I remove my blouse. I leave my bra on because it matches my panties. When he notices, his lower jaw drops. It’s just the reaction I was hoping for.

He shifts backward, undoes the buttons down the front of his shirt, and drags it free of his muscular arms. He lowers to his stomach, lying between my legs, but I can tell the position is uncomfortable for his shoulder.

“Lie on your back and I’ll hover over you,” I say.

I’ve barely let the words loose when he’s already in position, waiting for me. Sitting up, I roll over to my knees and edge closer to him. I swing a bent knee over his face and place it on the mattress beside his head. His hands clamp onto my hips, tugging me down to his waiting mouth. He sucks and licks as if he’s a starved man and can’t get enough. It’s sexy that he’s so rabid for me, but he’s being too aggressive for my liking.

I rise up from his face.

“Get back down here,” he says, tugging on my hips.

“Wait. Do you want to please me?”

He nods and licks my slick arousal from his lips. “Yes. More than anything.”

“Then you need to be gentler and start out slowly. Getting me to orgasm is similar to how a wave forms. First there are little ripples caused by the wind. They gradually grow bigger as the wind continues to blow over the surface, creating even biggerwaves. You can explore and tease me all you want as long as you start off with soft ripples and work your way up to the big waves.” I bend my knees, sinking down onto his face once more.

He moans as his tongue gently explores the outer edges of my lips before dipping between them to tease my entrance.

“That feels good,” I say, encouraging him.

His hands roam over my ass, mapping out every inch. He clutches each cheek tightly in his grip, squeezing. At the same time, his tongue gently lashes my clit. Back and forth, it sweeps like strokes from a paintbrush.

“Yes,” I sigh. He repeats the motion a few more times and then he switches it up by drawing figure eights with the tip of his tongue. Each time applying pressure on the outer edges of the bundle of nerves instead of directly on it. “Ooh… yes… like that.” My hips start to rock of their own volition, grinding down into his tongue as it continues to explore me with a delicious mix of gentle teasing and growing intensity.

His hands move back to my hips, controlling the rhythm and guiding my movements as I rock against his mouth.

“So good,” I say as the pleasure builds slowly just as I described—ripples growing into waves.

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