Page 64 of Foul & Fake
Capable, yes. But I don’t want to. It feels so good I want to scream it loud enough to ruin the Reyes Family Christmas, but I won’t. Tangling my hand in his curls, I guide his head down and rock my hips up to chase his mouth.
“Oh, I can be quiet. Think you can make me be loud anyway?”
He growls into my pussy as a response, his trembling hands cupping my ass relaxing when my flavor coats his tongue, and a gasp dies in my throat as he sucks in my clit.
Maybe one day I’ll live to regret giving him another chance, but right now, it feels like the only good decision I’ve ever made. “Elias… fuck, baby. Did you miss me?”
He nods, the action tugging on my swollen clit. He proves it with every suck, every lap of his tongue, and he doesn’t come up for air until I’ve come twice and his cock is leaking. “I need to be inside of you.”
“So come here.” Breathlessly, I tug him up and kiss him deeply, chasing the taste of myself as I spread my legs.
Feeling the head of his cock nudge at my pussy has me smiling against his mouth, but as soon as he’s sliding inside and splitting me open, everything else disappears.
“Riley,” he moans. “Fuck, you feel like home.”
“It’s been too long, baby. I need it,” I whisper, pulling him impossibly closer. “I need your cum.”
He’s trembling again, showing all the signs of a man too close to the edge to hear those words, and when he speeds up I know he’s falling. “No. Fuck.” Eli slams inside me with a grunt, his cock pulsing and giving me exactly what we both crave. “Goddamnit,” he whispers, head dropping to my shoulder in shame. “Can we pretend that didn’t happen? I’m not done with you.”
He starts slowly moving again to prove his point, fucking his cum deeper inside me. Somehow, it feels even dirtier now.
“No, we can’t pretend. Because when you fuck me again later, I want you to remember what a mess you’ve already made of me.”
He pulls up to look me in the eyes, the faint flush of embarrassment fading as my words sink in, and when he kisses me, I know we’re about to make an even bigger mess. He’s still rock-hard inside of me.
“I didn’t come at all without you,” he admits, and I realize I haven’t either. It wasn’t on purpose necessarily, but I’ve been so stressed out about losing him and how all of this was going to play out that I definitely wasn’t in the mood.
Judging by the way my clit is throbbing, I’m in the mood now. “So you saved it all for me, huh? Good. Give me more.”
“All for you. Only for you.” He leans in to mark my collarbone and I can’t bring myself to stop him. This is Elias, and if keeping me marked and owned is what he needs to feel calm, I’ll wear every single one of them proudly. “I want to watch you ride me.”
He rolls us over without slipping out of me, his gaze locked on me in awe as I sit up straighter and stare down at him.
Smirking, I roll my hips slowly. He blew quickly the first time, and as much as I would like to savor this round, I have a point to prove. I might love the little shit, and I might’ve forgiven him, but the thought of him all blushing and embarrassed as he does it twice in a row is too enticing.
So instead of savoring it, I grip his chin to keep his eyes on me and bounce on his thick cock until we’re both shaking.
“Riley,” he moans, fingers digging into my hips like he wants me to slow. “Fuck, Riley.”
“Mmhm, I think that’s the point.” Leaning down, I kiss him deeply, trapping his bottom lip between my teeth as I tense up to squeeze his cock. “More, Elias. I said give me more.”
He groans into my mouth, his hips moving with mine as he stops trying to fight it, and when he comes this time I think the whole house hears him moan my name. “I fucking love you.”
He’s still rolling his hips when he grips my throat to keep my lips against his, and in that moment we start anew. This is right. This is good, and this is us. It won’t always be pretty or perfect, and others might wonder what the hell is wrong with us — but he loves me, and I love him too.
“Come on,” I whisper, unable to contain my smile. “We’ve got Christmas cookies to decorate.”
Jackpot
EPILOGUE
ELIAS
“Istill don’t like this,” I mumble to my wife. Riley and I got married a year ago, and it still amazes me that she’s all mine. She chose me after everything I did to her, chose to love me in spite of all the ugliness I showed her, and because of that we both know this is real. We can get through anything… even all the dangerous jobs she insists on doing because she knows someone has to do it. I just hate knowing she’s in danger. “This is something the cops have to be investigating already, right?”
She shrugs, peeking through her favorite pair of binoculars. “If they are, they’re not saying anything. And their hands are tied in a way mine aren’t. The least I can do is warn the public not to come here if this shit is true.”
I have no argument, just like the time she insisted we follow that serial killer out of the country. Without her help, he never would have been caught.
