Page 73 of Fake Shot

“I’m fine with that, as long as you give me an orgasm. I’d at least like to know that I’m capable of orgasming with someone other than myself.”

“You’ve never . . .?”

With a shake of her head, she starts to lift her shirt slowly, like she’s giving me time to stop her if I want to. Even though I should put a halt to this before we cross over into territory that we can’t come back from, even though I’m going to enjoy this now, but it’ll hurt later, I watch in fascination as the shirt rises to show me her creamy skin. There are three freckles on her abdomen, and I reach my thumb out, tracing them while I try to memorize their exact locations. Then the undersides of her breasts come into view, andfuuuuuck. She’s stacked like the Playboy models in the magazines my friends and I used to steal from my neighbor’s recycling bin.

“Fuck it.”

I sit up quickly, my hands sliding under the shirt and ripping it up and over her head so fast she lets out a surprised gasp. Then my hands are on her breasts, cupping them so I can run my thumbs over her nipples, and she’sholding my face in her hands and kissing me while she grinds herself against my cock.

I feel like a horny teenager with not enough control over my body any time she’s around. Lying wrapped up in her limbs and trying to resist her while she offered herself up to me for the past few minutes has me already on the verge of exploding. If she keeps rubbing herself along me like that, with just the perfect amount of pressure, I’m going to come in my pants like a fucking amateur.

I kiss my way down her neck, and then take a moment to admire a sight I never thought I’d see. Her breasts spill out of my hands, her nipples pebbled under the rough pads of my thumbs, and below that her abdomen flexes and contracts as she controls the movement of her hips, and every time she pulls back, I can see the neatly trimmed V of curls through the sheer underwear, right where her body runs itself along my sweats.

As soft as they are, I’m wearing these pants like armor, knowing that if I remove them, I’ll fuck her senseless. But I already told her that we’re not having sex, and I need to stick to that, at least, since we’re already hurdling over so many other lines.

There will be a lot to think about later, probably a lot to talk about too, but I don’t care at this moment. All I care about is proving to her that she can let go of her iron grip on control long enough to come by someone else’s hand...or mouth. I haven’t decided yet.

My face descends to her breast, capturing her nipple and pulling it between my lips, smoothing around and over it with my tongue while Jules moans, “Yes, Colt!” and my cock surges up, seeking the friction of her body as it presses intomine. I suck her into my mouth until I hear that small grunt of pain, then pause and smooth my tongue over her again, before switching to the other breast. She hums approvingly as I give her other nipple the same attention, and her hips move faster as she grinds into me harder.

The familiar sensation at the base of my spine tells me I need to slow the fuck down before I’m coming in my pants, but the way she’s rubbing herself up against me, so carefree and unguarded and willing to let me touch her in any way I want—it makes me hesitant to pull back. I don’t want her mind to go into overdrive trying to figure out what it means if I slow us down, or worse yet, drawing the wrong conclusions.

“This is too good,” I say, trying to explain myself, “and I’m too close. So I’m going to need you to stop pressing yourself up against my cock like that.”

“Oh yeah,” she says, her voice husky and teasing at the same time. “Or what?”

“Or I’m going to embarrass myself,” I say. Trailing my mouth up the side of her neck, I nip at the cord of muscle there. “And I’d much rather focus on giving you that orgasm you requested.”

“I need you to give me the kind of orgasm that has me seeing stars,” she says as she reaches up and tugs on the gold necklace with the star engraved on it that she always wears.

“Jules,” I say as I flip her onto her back, using my extended arm to prop myself up over her. “I’m going to give you the whole fucking supernova experience. And then every time you touch that necklace of yours, you’re going to remember exactly how it feels to explode.”

She relaxes into the bed and lets her knees fall to thesides. Her thong is tiny, a soft black lace that’s now drenched. Hooking my thumbs around the fabric, I press her legs together so I can slide them off her, then I press them to my face, breathing in her scent, before I tuck them into the pockets of my sweats, telling her, “I’m keeping these.”

“Hey, I made those!”

“Youmadethem?”

I have so many questions, but she just mumbles, “I’ll tell you later,” as her knees fall open again, baring that perfect pussy to me. Aside from the little V of curls at the top, she’s completely bare—pink and shimmering with her arousal.

“So fucking pretty,” I say, reaching a hand out to circle my fingers lightly over her clit. “The way you’re so wet for me...” I bend down and press a kiss along the inside of her knee. “So needy.”

Trailing kisses down her inner thigh as I continue circling her clit with light pressure, I make sure to keep my eyes on her face. I want this experience to be perfect for her. I’m confident she knows what she likes when she does this to herself, but since no one else has done this to her, she may not know how to tell me what she needs.

Her eyes flutter shut, and her hips raise to meet my hand, adding additional pressure where my fingers graze against her sensitive nerve endings. Okay, maybe she does know how to show me what she needs.

Increasing the speed as well as the pressure, I kiss my way up to the apex of her thighs and I breathe in deeply, inhaling her scent. And then, I slide my tongue from the back of her pussy all the way up to the front, pulling my fingers away as my tongue laps against her clit to match the tempo of her hips as they move against my mouth. Her soft pants turn intolow moans of pleasure that have me teasing my fingers along her entrance.

As I lift my head, she whispers, “Please don’t stop.”

“Grab those pillows behind you and prop yourself up so you can watch. I want you to see what it looks like when someone takes care of you like this, and I want to watch you fall apart on my tongue.”

She arches her back as she reaches for the pillows above her head, and the movement has the tips of my two fingers pressing into her entrance enough that her mouth falls open as she lets out a low, throaty groan. When I slide both fingers into her at once, she hisses out a “yes.”

“Come on,” I say when she freezes, focusing on me inside of her instead of on getting herself set up on those pillows. “Prop yourself up so you can see the way your greedy little pussy is devouring my fingers.”

“Jesus, Colt.” Eyes wide, she sits up enough to prop one elbow behind her and get the pillows situated under her upper back. Then she lies back against them, her eyes locked on me, and I curl my fingers up, stroking her from the inside.

She closes her eyes as her hips meet my fingers thrust for thrust. “Eyes on me,” I say, and her eyes snap open. “I want you to watch every second of this, so that you remember the first person who ever made you scream their name.”

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