Page 51 of Fake To Forever

I lift my head, grinning, and grab the waistband of her yoga pants, slowly dragging them off her along with the thong she’s wearing. I kiss her thigh then her calf as I bring the pants down and throw them on the ground.

“You’re teasing me too much,” she complains, but I know she loves it. I can already see how wet she is.

“Not yet, I’m not,” I mumble, and get down on my knees, looping her legs around my shoulders and pressing my face into her pussy.

“Oh, my God!” she moans as I drag my tongue along her sensitive folds. She tastes so sweet, like honey, and I can’t get enough of her. I hold her thighs open and lick and kiss her until she’s squirming and whimpering, her fingers tangling in my hair. “Christian!”

Lifting my head, I grin up at her. “Is it good, baby?”

“You know it is,” she growls, impatient. “Stop teasing me.”

“All right, all right. I won’t tease you anymore.” I reply with a chuckle.

Lowering my head back to her pussy, I start back in, working her with my tongue and lips. It’s only a few moments before she comes, locking her thighs around my head, gasping out my name, her hands tight in my hair.

I’ve never been so turned on giving a woman an orgasm before. I don’t want to leave my partners unsatisfied, of course, and I pride myself on being able to give a woman pleasure, but giving this to Haven is different. It’s not just pride sweeping through me as she shudders and undulates her hips in wild abandon. There’s a primal satisfaction in knowing I’ve put her in this state of total surrender and release. Like I’m experiencing a privilege that I want to be mine and mine alone.

When I’ve rung the last of her orgasm out of her, I lift my head and cover her with my body. She spreads her thighs wide, panting, looking up at me. I lean down to kiss her and I groan into her mouth. I’m so hard I can barely stand it.

“Haven,” I breath. “I need to fuck you.”

She wraps her arms around my neck and gasps, “Please… I need you.”

Gritting my teeth, I grab the base of my cock and line up with her entrance. Holding her gaze, I slowly slide into her. She’s warm and wet and wonderful and I need to pause once I’m fully inside her so I can regain control of myself and not come right away.

“Oh fuck,” she whimpers.

It feels like heaven inside her. When I’m confident I can control myself, I move slowly and steadily, wanting this to last. She mewls out nonsense, clenching around me so hard, it’s like her body doesn’t want to let me go.

“You’re so beautiful.”

“Please,” she pleads, trembling, her fingers digging into my shoulders. “Faster. Harder.”

“So eager,” I tell her, grinning, but I do as she says because my body wants it too. I thrust into her hard and fast, and it’s only a few moments before she’s almost keening, raking her nails down my back.

“Christian… I’m going to… I’m going to come again…”

“Do it,” I growl. “Come on my cock.”

She cries out and her body spasms around me as her pussy squeezes me so tight, I can’t hold back any longer.

“Fuck, Haven!”

When I spill inside of her, she hums happily, kissing along the side of my face.

Afterward, the room is quiet, the only sound is our heavy breathing as it slowly returns to normal. Haven is lying next to me, her head resting on my chest, her fingers lightly tracing patterns along my skin. The weight of her against me feels perfect, like she belongs here, and I can’t shake the sense of rightness that settles over me.

I look down at her, my hand resting in her hair. Her brow is slightly furrowed, her lips parted as if she’s about to say something, but she stops herself. I don’t know how to put any of this into words either—what just happened between us wasn’t planned. It wasn’t part of the deal. Yet, it feels like it was inevitable. Like everything that’s happened between us has been leading to this.

I shift slightly, my fingers running gently down her arm, and she looks up at me, her eyes soft but full of the same uncertainty that’s been gnawing at me.

“Haven,” I murmur. “I don’t know where we go from here.”

Her lips press together, then she sighs, sitting up just enough to look me in the eye. “Neither do I.”

We fall back into silence, and I can tell she’s struggling to find the right words, just like I am. When we first started this whole arrangement, it was about convenience. It was about giving her mom peace of mind and securing a better future for Oliver. Now, I can’t pretend that’s all it is anymore. There’s something real between us, something neither of us accounted for.

“I don’t regret it,” she says suddenly, her voice soft but steady. “I don’t regret any of it.”

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