Page 142 of Faking the Pass
This was a man who knew my body, who’d somehow not forgotten a thing about what turned me on, even fifteen years after first introducing me to sexual pleasure.
The way his hot mouth moved over my sensitive skin was intoxicating, and the rhythm of his hand was maddening. My hand rubbed in sync with his, and soon we were both groaning and sizzling with want and need.
With every sweet slide of his tongue and stroke of his fingers, the tension coiled, finally hitting a breaking point and shattering me into little pieces of pure, sweet, hot sensation.
Even as I drifted on a current of pleasure, I wanted more of him. I tried unsuccessfully, to slip my hand inside the tight pants that had caused such a spectacle at the gala tonight.
“I’m afraid there’s no room for anybody else in these fucking things,” Presley muttered before sliding off the bed and stripping off the hated breeches.
He returned to the bed immediately, climbing over me then sinking his hard weight into my soft curves.
It felt incredible to have his perfect, muscular body stretched out on top of mine again, pressing me into the luxurious bed. Kissing me ravenously, he pushed inside me and started thrusting at a pace that was almost desperate.
Presley was a powerful, virile, intensely sexual man, and he’d been deprived for too long.
So had I.
How many times had I fantasized alone in my room about exactly this? Feeling him over me, moving inside me, elicitingexquisite sensations and making me forget about all the reasons this was a bad idea.
After what had transpired tonight, I was ready to let all those reasons go.
Running my hands over his strong shoulders and tight sides and unbelievably firm ass, I wondered how I’d even thought of lettinghimgo.
And how I’d somehow made it this long without licking every part of him.
Picturing doing exactly that, I felt the sweet tension build again, lightning fast, and then I was moving faster beneath him, digging my heels into his muscular calves and lifting myself against him to achieve a perfection of angle and friction.
“Oh God, you’re close,” Presley groaned and drove into me harder, deeper.
Within seconds, the electric tension built to a whole new voltage, and then I was arcing, bright sparks behind my eyelids and white-hot pleasure shooting to all my nerve endings.
Presley was right behind me, hearing my screams then letting go with a beautiful hoarse roar that sent chills racing over my skin and warmth rushing through my heart.
God I was so in love with this man.
He was my every fantasy come true, and even if he didn’t love me back, I knew at least that he wanted me. That he always had.
It was starting to feel like enough.
Chapter 34
What’s It Really Worth
Presley
At the beginning of my football career, I’d been taught to use every weapon I had in my arsenal to win the game.
Based on the way Rosie was starfished on the bed this morning and the blissful expression on her face, I’d won a significant battle last night.
Well, several battles actually—eight to be exact. I had a lot of stored up ammo.
I would fight the war every day if that’s what it took to convince her we were the real thing, and I wasn’t above using sex to do it.
Actually, that one was a win-win. Last night had been one of the best in my entire life, and I woke up ready for another go this morning.
As I stroked her messy hair away from her face, Iwasa little afraid Rosie would see things differently in the light of day.
Would she have regrets about what had happened between us? I understood her continued reluctance a little better now.
