Page 104 of Maybe We Can Fake It

“God, you’re so hot.”

I groan in response and squeeze the base of my cock to hold off my orgasm.

Probably realizing I need him to hurry this along, he lubes up the massager and carefully slides it inside me until the curved head hits just the right spot. A jolt of pleasure shoots through me, making me arch off the bed. He grins and slides the toy almost all the way out before pushing it back in again. In and out. In and out.

I’m practically panting by the time he settles it against my prostate and presses the button on the base to turn on thevibrations. He ducks his head between my legs to suck on my inner thigh as he pushes the toy into me a fraction more. The pressure has my toes curling, and I resume stroking myself, faster this time, hurtling my way toward an explosion.

“Don’t come,” he warns. “Not until it’s me inside you.”

“Then you need to stop,” I tell him huskily. “So I can come on your cock.”

He moans in what sounds like approval and turns off the toy, pulling it swiftly from my hole. I work to catch my breath as I watch him jack himself a few times before rolling on the condom. Then he says, “Turn over,” and the breath rushes out of me again as I hurry to comply.

He tugs at my hips, and I let him pull me onto my hands and knees. And then his cock is there, nudging at my hole. I relax and bear down as he slides in steadily inch by glorious inch until his hips are flush against my ass.

“Fuuuck,” he whispers.

I could say the same. I thrust backward against him, silently urging him to fuck me. And he does. He starts out slowly, but it doesn’t take long for him to grab my hips for leverage and begin slamming into me at a punishing pace.

I love it. I fucking love it. I love the shape of him behind me, of him filling me. I love taking him. I love that I can give him something he so desperately wants. I love...

Draping himself over my back, he keeps one hand possessively on my hip and brings the other to the top of my shoulder. Then he bites down on my upper back, and I cry out, and he licks over the spot. I shouldn’t be surprised by anything he does at this point, but it’s still amazing to experience him like this. So in control but also wild, possessive, almost feral.

“I’m not gonna last,” I tell him.

“Me neither. Fuck. Me neither.”

When he wraps one arm around my body and grips my cock, I know I’m done for. It takes barely three strokes before I’m shooting ropes of cum across the sheets.

“Yes!” he shouts, fucking into me a couple more times. Then he stills, giving in to his release.

A moment later, my arms give out. I collapse to the mattress, managing to move sideways enough to avoid landing in my own mess.

Brenden clings to me, falling on top of me with a quiet grunt. “Am I crushing you?” he asks.

“Not at all.”

“Good.”

He seems either too lazy or too content to move, and while I’m not ready to be separated from him, I do want to see him. So as soon as I regain strength, I roll over underneath him and adjust us both until I’m on my back and he’s only half on top of me, his face close to mine.

I run my thumb along the shell of his ear and gently ask, “Did that help?”

He beams. “That was fucking fantastic. And I feel much calmer now, not like I’m going to crawl out of my skin.”

“Are you ready to talk more?”

“I don’t need it,” he says, shaking his head. “Not right now. Maybe I’ll want to talk about stuff later, but I don’t want to ruin this feeling.”

I guide him in for a short kiss, glad to know I helped him in some way. But I’m aware that talking about the things that are bothering him is a healthier method than trying to fuck the feelings away. “Promise you’ll talk to me later when you’re ready. I don’t want you to keep holding everything in.”

He pulls back, eying me uncertainly. “Since when do you want to talk about feelings?”

Since you.

“Since now, I guess.”

Reaching for my hand, he threads our fingers together, then rests our joined hands between us. “I promise.”

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