Page 101 of The Fine Art of Faking It
“Gah” was the only response she could manage, and Davis loved it. He buried his face in her breasts as she boosted herself up to release him from his pants. Together, they wrestled their clothes into submission, freeing enough flesh for contact. Once freed, they no longer had all the time in the world. It suddenly became a matter of life and death to be inside her.
Reading his mind, Eden hovered over him, notching the head of his cock against her sex.
“Condom, condom, condom,” he chanted, sweat breaking out on his forehead.
“Shit. All I brought was whiskey.”
“I don’t have any in the house.” Davis imagined his teenage self shooting him two middle fingers before curling into the fetal position and weeping.
Eden stared into his eyes. “I’m on birth control,” she said, teasing her lower lip between her teeth. “Diligently taken at the same time every day.” Since she found out Eva got knocked up.
“What are you saying?”
“You don’t have any festering diseases, do you?”
He was so busy staring at her cherry red lips that he could only shake his head.
“Neither do I.”
“So, we…” His fingers flexed on the sexy ass curves of her hips, demanding that he yank her down onto his shaft.
“If you’re okay with it.”
His control was slipping through his fingers like grains of sand.
“I’m okay if you’re okay.”
She lowered herself down, taking the first inch of him.Heaven. Perfection. Ecstasy.He meant to let her set the pace. Meant to let her have control. But that small taste of what awaited him was too much.
Gripping her hips, he pulled her down, thrusting up.
Her head fell back, mouth open on a soundless cry.
There was no relief. Now the need was fiercer, cutting at him like jagged glass.
Go slow, he cautioned himself. But his body wasn’t interested in listening. Davis shifted his grip to hold Eden by the hips and ass. He lifted her and drove home again. This time she rocked against him, and they both were lost.
Nothing could compare to the wet glove of Eden clutching his cock as she panted his name in his ear. In this moment, he wanted to personally write thank you letters to every member of the Beautification Committee. Because without them, he wouldn’t be slamming into Eden’s body like his life depended on it.
Her breasts heaved and bounced with each powerful thrust. He couldn’t take the temptation, letting his tongue snake out of his mouth to lick her.
“Ohmygod,” Eden chanted. Her fingers bit into his shoulder with a shock of pain.
The finish line, what they were both recklessly racing toward, shimmered on the horizon.
Davis shifted in the chair, changing the angle, and Eden choked out her appreciation. “Why do you feel so damn good?” she hissed. “Why?”
He hoped she was being rhetorical because there was no way he could answer her. There was something here. People who didn’t like each other didn’t get to heights like this. Their connection was deeper. He didn’t just want her. That much was clear.
“Davis?”
He could feel her quickening around him, knew she was close. The slick slide of her around his shaft was systematically driving him insane.
The groan that tore its way free from his throat sounded inhuman, primal. His balls tightened, and he tensed feeling the tingle at the base of his spine. He was taking her with him, forcing her to the edge so they could fall together.
She was chanting incomprehensible things, her eyes squeezed shut. He latched on to one perfect pink nipple and drove into her. Harder. Faster. That sweet nipple pebbled in his mouth against the roughness of his tongue. She rode out his thrusts until he felt her clench around him. There was no surviving that. He poured himself into her as she came.
“God, yes! Davis!”
