Page 92 of Cinderella Is Faking It

“Keep your hands on the bathtub,” he said and stood, “only tap my thigh if you need me to stop.”

Before I could formulate the question, he freed his thick, pulsing erection. He was already glistening with pre-cum. And when he grabbed my chin and pushed his thumb against my bottom lip, my mouth fell open readily. “Look at that pretty mouth, so eager to please.” His thumb dipped past my lips pressing down my tongue. His taste and strength mingled in my mouth and stole the breath from my lungs. “When you’re choking on my cock, what’s that going to remind you of, Blondie?”

He removed his finger to let me answer. “That you’re the only one who gets to touch me,” I gasped, “that I’m yours.”

“That’s right,” he said, positioning his tip on my lips, his delicious salty taste making me heady, “and I’m the only one who gets to fuck that mouth of yours.” He slammed his cock past my lips so hard tears sprung to my eyes. He fisted my hair, locking me in place, but he didn’t move, giving me a moment to adjust, temper my breathing, relax my throat around his girth. I blinked up at him, almost surprised to find nothing but warmth in his eyes. His thumb caressed down the side of my face, soothing the sharp pain in my jaw. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he breathed, chest rising and falling hard, as he pulled his cock back an inch. “Now open wide, so you can take the rest of me.”

Open wide? Wider? Rest of him? My mouth was already- fuck. He snapped his hips forward, pushing himself deeper into me. I couldn’t breathe and I couldn’t swallow, and I struggled against his grip on me, scalp burning, and then he pulled back, granting me relief and air for just a second. He thrust forward again. Pain shot through my neck and my jaw before he pulled out. He kept repeating, each violent thrust coming faster and harder.

“That’s it, you’re taking me so well.” Tears welled over my lashes as I squeezed my eyes shut. Beck suddenly paused, pulling back slowly. “Look at me,” he rasped. I blinked up at him through the tears and winced when he pulled out. My lips trembled but I swallowed his taste, my jaw easing at the moment of respite. He glanced down at me with so much affection, my insides tensed as he brushed the tears off my cheeks.

“I’m good,” I croaked, my throat rough, “just not the kind of blow job I’m used to.”

“I told you. I take what I want.” His thumb grazed down my cheek and into my mouth, the taste of my own tears mixing with his arousal on my tongue. “And you aremine.”

Those four little letters sent a warm tremor through me. My lips closed around his thumb, and I sucked it with hollowed cheeks the way I would have sucked him if I had initiated a blow job. I let my tongue curl around his finger. Beck’s eyes darkened, and the muscle in his jaw ticked. In response, my walls pulsed, just knowing I could push him off balance with the flick of my tongue.

“I’m not done with you yet,” he growled and pressed his thumb down, wrenching my mouth open again. “Eyes on me.”

I kept my gaze locked on his when he filled my mouth again.

He didn’t ease me into it this time, pushing fast and deep. He wasfuckingmy mouth so hard it hurt. I let the pain flow through me, the heat cursing down my neck and into my veins. I lost my whole body in it. Every cell was buzzing, every muscle twitching against his thrusts. And oh god, the jets were still shooting streams straight at me. I pushed my hips against the side of the tub, finding a nozzle to hit my clit, and with my entire body caught on the verge, I came again, moaning with his cock on my tongue and my eyes on his.

“Fuck,” he gasped and spilled himself in my mouth. My knuckles turned white on the edge of the tub, as I struggled to breathe through my orgasm and his cum down my throat. With one deep thrust, he released the last of it before pulling out. Gasping and struggling for air, I fell back, blinking through the haze to see him bent down and leaning onto the tub, breathing just as hard, forehead beaded in sweat.

I swallowed the taste of him but wiped the mess around my mouth and chin off with bathwater, a big grin stealing onto my lips. “I’m going to need a shower after this bath,” I said, voice scratched up. I reached behind me and switched off the bubbles, the water calming around me within seconds.

“Jesus fuck, Del,” Beck gasped, a hint of laughter creeping in as he slumped down next to the tub and pulled me forward for a soft kiss. “I have to be honest, I thought you’d tap out, and then you just go and come with my cock in your mouth.”

“I’ve always been a fast learner,” I grinned, “besides, I just did that thing I read about, where you try to channel the pain through your whole body instead of concentrating on its source. Safe to say, it worked.”

“You’re such a nerd,” he chuckled and dropped his forehead against mine, “but I’m sorry to say, your breakfast eggs are probably cold now.”

“Well, I already had a hot breakfast…”

THIRTY-SEVEN

“The ownership transitionis going to be finalized in two weeks, Beck,” Julian reminded me like a relentless calendar app pop-up.

“Don’t worry, we’ll be as good as engaged by then.” No need to tell him that Del refused to acknowledge that we were even dating. I should have just taken her to dinner instead of promising her some grand evening. At least then she couldn’t avoid the fact that we were a thing anymore. It would have been the sensible solution, but my choices concerning her made less and less sense by the day.

“I don’t understand your problem with just knocking her up.” He leaned back in his chair and pulled an orange pill bottle from his desk drawers. I didn’t even want to know what that was. I shot him a withering glare, but he just responded with a shrug. “That would make things so much easier. I doubt she’d say no if there was a baby in the picture.”

“She’ll say yes.”

“I should help things along.”

He opened his laptop.

I snapped it shut.

“Julius,” I warned him, his birth name slipping out in a tone eerily similar to Georgia’s. Our mother had named us Julius and Augustus, and we’d both legally changed the names the week after she killed our father. One less reminder of her obsession with power. Not that it wasn’t ingrained in us.

He held up his hands, capitulating. “Show me real progress by the end of the week or I’ll go digging.”

“Don’t you have more useful things to do? Did you find out who’s been troubling Del?”

“There are no traces of blackmail.” He shrugged. “No remarkable assets shifting.”

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