Page 34 of Kicking it with my Fake Fiancé
He dipped one hand below the waistband of his jeans, fingertips disappearing under the fabric. As he did, he dropped his knees open wide and tipped his head back, eyes fluttering closed. “I guess I can forgive you for that.” A second later, he looked at me again, eyes dark. He shimmied out of his jeans, taking off his boxers with them, and in an instant, I had almost a full view of his naked body, from head to thighs.
My cock ached and leaked a drop of precum. I bit back a whimper as he rolled to his side, his thick, heavy erection in one hand.
“Now you.”
I didn’t hesitate, just stripped down and sat my laptop on the nightstand so he could get a similar view of my body. Once I had disrobed completely, I settled back on the bed on my side, mirroring Matty, teasing my thumb through the moisture on the crown of my cock.
He licked his lips again and nodded, a deep groan rumbling from his chest. He muttered something in Norwegian that sounded like Gud hjelpes—God help me.
“Yeah?” I squeezed my leaking erection and bucked my hips into my fist erratically. “Matty,please,” I murmured, desperate for breath. I didn’t even know what I was asking for. I just knew I missed him. I wanted him. Ineededhim.
He nodded. “Ja. Greit.” With that, his hand moved, stroking his cock with a tight fist, his gaze locked on me.
I couldn’t stop the groan that ripped from my body. As he touched himself, I did the same, stroking my cock, which was slick with precum, while I let my free hand caress my chest, the same way he was doing.
“I’ve missed you too,” he said softly as he slid his hand along his erection. “So much. I thought—” He let out a breathy gasp. “I thought I’d be used to it by now. But it’s worse.”
I nodded in agreement. Itwasworse, because we’d connected in such a deep way, and I hated missing him. “You should be here with me.”
“Ja. I know. I miss you so much. It’s not fair that we finally figured it out, and now we’re apart.”
“It’s true. I keep thinking of how you tasted on my tongue that night. And your hand on me.”
“How does it feel, when you think of it?”
“So good. I’ve basically been a walking erection.” The precum, copious and slick, dripped from my crown. “Want you, Matty.”
For a second his eyes fluttered closed. “I’m…” He looked at me again, searching for something.
“Yeah. Me too.” I took a tight breath and squeezed harder. “So close.” We watched each other in silence for several long moments before the heat building in my gut and my groin became nearly unbearable. “Tell me when?”
“Please,” he murmured. “Nå. I want to see it. See you.”
I cried out as my orgasm crashed into me, my cock throbbing and spilling thick white strands of cum on my chest and on the bed. I fucked my fist until my orgasm subsided, gaze never leaving the screen.
Matty’s hand was still stroking, slowly working his cock, the thick crown deep red and swollen. He thumbed his slit, teasing the precum around, eyes half-hooded with lust.
“It’s your turn,” I said softly. “C’mon. Please.”
His head bobbed as he nodded and his grip tightened on his shaft. A moment later, he whimpered my name as he came. My mouth watered as I watched, wishing I was there to help.
For a few moments, we lay there, just looking at each other as our breathing returned to normal and the aftershocks wore off. My chest ached with emotion, the desire to tell him how I really felt. I closed my eyes briefly. It was probably just the oxytocin flooding my body, but I deeply wanted to tell him I loved him, without the reality TV cameras on us. Just us. I wanted him to know.
Instead, I took a shaky breath and spoke. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure. Anything.”
“It felt like you were being a little… I don’t know, reserved, when I was home. Like you didn’t want to… get physical again.”
He frowned and bit the side of his lip for a second. “I did hold back. Yes.”
“Why?”
It was Matty’s turn to take a deep breath, and he let his eyes close for a moment before looking at me again. “It’s a bit scary, what’s happening between us.”
“You don’t want it?” My heart ached and I was terrified to hear the answer.
“That’s not it, not at all.” The pause he took felt like an eternity, but eventually he spoke again. “I’m scared that it won’t work. I… I know it sounds selfish, but I’m afraid that if we try to have arealromantic relationship that doesn’t succeed, we’ll divorce. And if that happens before my two years are finished, I’ll be deported. I’ll lose nearly everything that matters to me—my ambitions and my best friend—in one blow.”
