Page 49 of Love is Fake

The tip of his hard cock hesitates at my entrance, only just parting my wet lips. His whole body is filled with tension as he pauses there, holding me when I try to wriggle against him to bring him inside.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” His jaw is rigid with how hard he’s holding on.

“You won’t,” I assure him, breathlessly. “I’m ready for you.” So damn ready. I wrap my hand around his shaft, squeezing him lightly as I guide him inside of me.

His arms strain with the effort of how slowly he’s trying to go, to hold himself back. But I don’t want him to, I want him to be as out of control as I am.

My legs wrap around his waist, inviting him deeper and he loses the internal battle he’s been fighting. He pushes inside, agonizingly slowly, giving my body time to adapt to the size of him.

“Breathe, baby,” Lennox whispers against my lips and I do, telling my body to relax as he inches his way deeper until he’s completely buried inside of me.

I’ve never felt this full and as he starts to move, our eyes lock and it’s the most intense joining I’ve ever experienced. I use myheels on his ass to urge him to thrust into me again and again, harder as my body stretches to accommodate him.

“So good.” Lennox pumps his hips against mine, fighting for breath like he’s just as turned on as I am.

He pulls out until only his tip remains and I writhe underneath him, begging him with my body for more. This time he rewards me without hesitation. A powerful thrust fills me up, pushing me towards ecstasy. Our bodies are slick with sweat as they slide against each other, as his hard length slides along my hypersensitive skin.

“Say my name, Izzy,” he growls at me. “I want my name on your lips when you come.”

It’s an order, another way of staking his claim and here and now I’m more than happy to be possessed by him.

He thumbs my clit while he keeps thrusting into me. The way he’s looking at me is pure sin and it’s not long before he’s stoked the fire inside of me into an inferno again. My back arches off the bed as he pumps, his hips slamming against mine, our bodies slapping together as I scream his name, exploding around him, orgasming with the force of an earthquake.

Lennox follows me, pumping into me, once, twice before his whole body stiffens and he throws his head back, tension filling him as he comes hard, emptying himself inside of me.

He collapses against me, holding his weight just above me so he doesn’t crush me. We lie like that, his head buried in the crook of my neck, my fingers drawing lazy circles on his shoulders.

Too soon, Lennox lifts his head, kissing me softly, before he pulls out of me. My body protests, because it wants him to stay right where he was.

After disposing of the condom, he’s by my side, pulling me over until I’m laying sprawled more or less on top of him, his hand holding mine over his heart.

I absorb the steady beat, my mind starting to tick into gear. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so completely content, so completely satisfied or so completely owned by someone and it’s both exhilarating and terrifying.

“Stop thinking so much, Izzy.” Lennox’s drowsy voice cuts through the fog in my brain. “Sleep,” he urges me, stroking my hair, lulling me with his touch until I do exactly that.

Whatever comes next, it can wait until the morning, for now I just want to hold onto Lennox and pretend I’ll never have to let go.

Chapter

Thirteen

When I wake up the next morning, my eyes squint against the sunshine streaming through the curtains I forgot to close because I got distracted by…

My head turns enough to see the dark head on the pillow next to mine and I jerk upright, taking a moment to realize I’ve slept next to, or more like on top of, Lennox Gray all night.

“Morning.” His eyes blink open slowly, making him look all sleep tousled and sexy as hell.

A muscular arm, belonging to the man in question, pulls me back down beside him and I pull the bedsheet up to cover my bare chest. The move earns me an amused look as if to say it’s a little late for modesty. I blush at the reminder of everything we did together last night and try to shift my legs out from where they’re tangled in his.

“Morning,” I answer awkwardly, doing my damnedest not to look him in the eyes.

“Are you always this quiet before your first cup of coffee?”

“Only on mornings when I wake up in bed with my boss,” I mumble, my brain to mouth filter apparently still asleep.

He chuckles low in his throat, the sexy sound sending heat between my legs.

“That happen often?”

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