Page 41 of The Fake Boyfriend Fiasco

This must be what drowning felt like. Not the part where you choked and panicked and struggled to breathe; this was the part where you gave up, where your mind floated away as your body died, and all you felt was warmth and water and weightlessness. Yes, he decided. Aria felt like a beautiful death and the heaven that followed, all wrapped up in one.

Her kisses were sweet and tender and desperate, her hands sliding through Nik’s hair, over his face, his shoulders. Everywhere she touched, she spread star-bright pleasure. He could feel her panting breaths against his cheek, feel her nipples hard against his chest as she arched beneath him. Her hips rocked against his, and his cock—Jesus, his cock was buried so deep in her slick heat, he might never get out again.

That would be perfect; that would be bliss. This, with her, forever.

“Nik,” she moaned softly. “Please. Fuck me.”

He slid a hand under her head, cradling her skull, holding her to him as he kissed her again. He couldn’t speak. If he did, she’d hear the truth in his voice, hear the fact that he loved her in every crack and waver. So, instead, he kissed her, and hoped she wouldn’t taste it on his tongue. Holding her tight, Nik eased out of her pussy almost completely, then rocked slowly back into her.

She gave a long, shuddering moan, and he swallowed the sound greedily. The rampant need that had been prowling inside him from the moment they’d met was, for the first time, satisfied. Completely satisfied. He had her. She was his. He wouldn’t think about the rest, wouldn’t think about reality—couldn’t right now, with her soft, wet cunt clinging to his dick, and her nails raking his back, and her body trembling every time he thrust.

“Yes,” she breathed, breaking the kiss, freeing his reckless mouth. “Yes, oh my God, Nik, like that.”

“S’agapó,” he breathed. I love you.

She sank her teeth into his shoulder for a second, then gave a ragged moan. “I’m going to come.”

“S’agapó. S’agapó. Ti mou ékanes, agápi mou?” What have you done to me, my love?

He watched her expression dissolve into ecstasy as she came with his name on her lips. Felt her inner walls tighten and release around his cock. He fucked her through it, pushed her higher until she finally relaxed beneath him, completely spent. And then he caught her face in his hands, and kissed her, and gave in to his release.

When he came to his senses, Aria was shoving gently at his shoulder. “Sorry,” he mumbled, rolling off of her. To his surprise, she followed, throwing half her body on top of his, burying her face against his chest.

“Goo’night,” she sighed, and snuggled deeper as if he were a teddy bear.

“…Ri?”

No response.

“Aria. Are you asleep?”

Apparently so.

Less than five minutes after an orgasm that had shaken his soul, Nik stared up at the ceiling and laughed.

* * *

Aria spent the next morning thoroughly enjoying herself. Or rather, thoroughly enjoying Nik as he got acquainted with her sex box.

He seemed to like it. A lot.

By the afternoon, they were up and wandering the streets while the rest of the house slept off last night’s excess. As they walked, Nik swung their joined hands with so much enthusiasm, Aria was surprised he hadn’t accidentally thrown her halfway across the street. “You’re in a good mood,” she murmured as they passed cute little stores and cool cafés.

“Of course, I am,” he said cheerfully. “I spent my morning coming on your—”

“Will you shut up? I don’t think those nice old ladies over there need to know about our deviant activities.”

Nik barely spared the ladies a look, rolling his eyes. “Deviant activities?” he echoed in mock outrage. “I think you mean love-making, Aria. Very meaningful love-making.”

She laughed so hard she almost choked. “I’m pretty sure that would involve less dirty talk. And fewer vibrators. And…”

“Don’t think I can’t fuck the living daylights out of you and make love to you at the same time.”

She’d thought he was teasing—he had been teasing—only now his voice was low and gravelly, his gaze almost hypnotising. She’d had an unreasonable number of orgasms in the last twenty-four hours, but she felt heat stir in her body anyway, her skin tingling. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” He pulled her closer, bending down to kiss her nose. “What do you think about that?”

She thought she shouldn’t read too much into it, or into the soft look in his eyes. As perfect as Nik was, he was still Nik. Still the biggest playboy she’d ever met—which was saying something—still a man who’d paid her to be here, still the guy who’d practically bent over backward to avoid anything approaching a What are we? discussion. When she’d mentioned commitment the day before, he’d practically frozen, and then he’d asked about her ex.

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