Page 77 of Faking Summer
"Wrong again," I forced out, but I knew he didn’t believe those words either.
Reese leaned in as he whispered against my ear, "Oh yeah?” The words sent a shiver down my spine, my dress already riding up my thighs as his fingers crept beneath the hem. His draggingtouch was electric, as if he wanted to savor every inch of me. His rough calluses grazed the tender skin of my inner thigh.
“Yeah,” I said as I bit down on my lip to keep myself together.
He clenched his jaw as he said, “You’re so goddamn stubborn.”
He didn’t stop there. Oh no. His hand inched higher, pushing the fabric of my dress up, up, until he reached the edge of my panties. His fingers slid over the lace, and I felt the heat of his palm as it cupped my pussy.
"Hate to break it to you, baby," he growled, his lips brushing my ear as he gently bit down. "You’re not just wet, your panties are fucking drenched." I could feel his smirk, the smug asshat. He pulled his hand away, letting the dress fall back into place. “You’re mine... you know it just as much as I do.”
“I’m not yours,” I breathed, the fight in me dying as I ached for him to keep touching me.
His hand trailed up my body, leaving me gasping until he wrapped it around my throat. His thumb pressed against my pulse point, and I could feel the erratic thrum of my heartbeat under his touch.
"Tell me to stop then," he dared, but I couldn’t—I wanted him, needed him like oxygen and he knew it.
I looked him in the eyes, my chest heaving as I whispered, "No."
He stared at my lips before crashing against me in a possessive and demanding kiss. He tilted his head, and his tongue slid into my mouth, owning me as I moaned into him. He broke the kiss only to tug my dress down, exposing my tits to him. His mouth was on me in an instant, his tongue swirling around one nipple while his fingers pinched and teased the other. I arched into him, my back pressing against the rough wood of the barn wall.
“Oh god,” I moaned embarrassingly loud, realizing that people were now taking their seats for dinner just outside the barn. "What if someone finds us? Hears us?" I gasped, my voice trembling with a mix of fear and desire.
Reese pulled back just enough to look me in the eyes, his gaze dark and hazy. "Ask me if I give a shit right now?"
I didn’t. His hand moved back down, slipping between my thighs, and I could feel the slickness there, the undeniable proof of how much I wanted him. His fingers teased my clit, circling, pressing, until I was writhing against him.
Then, without warning, he slid one finger inside me, and I gasped, nails digging into his shoulders. He added a second finger, then a third, his thumb still working my clit as he curled his fingers, and I was lost, my head falling back against the wall as he fucked me with his hand.
"Tell me you want me," he demanded, his voice rough with need.
“I want you so bad,” I panted, arching my back into him.
“Do you want proof that you own me? That you make me so fucking hard I can’t see straight?”
“Show me,” I urged, trailing my fingers over the buttons on his dress shirt.
He pressed his palm flat against the wall above me, the hardness of his body caging me in, his chest rising and falling with the kind of urgency that told me he was barely holding on. I could feel him, the way his breath hitched as his other hand worked the zipper of his pants.
His cock sprang free, and Jesus fucking Christ, I was down bad. Thick, veined, and already glistening with pre-cum, it pulsed in my hand like it had a heartbeat of its own. I wrapped my fingers around him, feeling the ridges, the way he twitched under my touch like he was fighting not to come right then and there. He groaned, low and deep, the sound vibrating through me as he slowly shifted his head back, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he fought for control.
“Fuck,” he hissed. “You’re everything I want.”
He straightened up long enough to hook his hands under my thighs, lifting me effortlessly. My legs wrapped around his waist, heels digging into the small of his back as he slid my panties to the side and positioned himself at my entrance. The tip of his cockpressed against me, teasing, and I whimpered, nails scraping down his back as I tried to pull him closer.
“Please,” I begged, the word torn from my throat. “Please, just?—”
He didn’t make me wait any longer. With a delicious thrust, he slid himself inside me, inch by relentless inch, until there was no space left between us. I gasped, my body stretching to accommodate him, every nerve ending on fire with sensation. He was so fucking big, so impossibly thick, and the way he filled me had my entire body feeling it.
“Shit,” he growled again, his voice rough. “You feel so goddamn tight wrapped around me. Like you were made for me.”
He pulled out slowly, agonizingly so, until only the tip remained, and then he slammed back in with a force that made me cry out. He set a tantalizing rhythm, snapping his hips as each thrust hit that sweet spot deep inside me. My toes were curling, vision blurring. His hands gripped my thighs like he was afraid he’d lose me if he let go, and every time he buried himself inside me, I could feel the way his cock pulsed. He was marking me as his.
I screamed louder and he covered my mouth with his hand, his fingers pressing against my lips as he fucked me. I could see people through the cracks in the wood, walking by, their voices faint but too close for comfort.
He didn’t care. He didn’t slow down. If anything, he fucked me harder, his hips thrusting hard and heavy against mine, the pleasure building until it was almost too much to bear.
“You like that?” he asked, his breath hot against my ear. “You like how deep I’m fucking you?”
