Page 47 of The Fake Boyfriend Fiasco

She arched back against his hardening cock, biting down on a smile. “I do. You can watch, though. If you want.”

Surprise made him falter, just for a second—which was long enough for Aria to pull free of his arms and head toward the shower. She stepped in and switched on the spray as Nik pushed down his shorts on the other side of the glass, freeing his erection. “You’re too kind,” he said dryly, but the sarcasm didn’t quite work when his breath hitched at the end. He gripped his cock so hard his knuckles paled.

Aria turned away to hide her satisfied smile. Nik would bitch and moan, but he wouldn’t follow her into the shower, not even playfully. When it came to her body, her emotions—her—he did exactly what she wanted and nothing more.

It hit her, like a football to the face, that she felt completely safe with him.

And you love him.

Ah. Now that she wasn’t sure about. Because it was awfully fast, wasn’t it? And she’d had fast before, but never like this.

Although, she supposed, she’d never had someone like Nik, either.

She’d think about it later. It was too difficult to focus on emotions right now, with lust pumping through her veins and him stroking himself on the other side of the glass. Aria reached for the soap, her smile widening into a grin as she saw what stood beside it: one of her many toys, a clear, pink dildo with a suction cup bottom. They’d had a lot of fun with it this morning.

Clearly, its time in the sun wasn’t over yet.

“Look what I found.” She waved the silicone cock before sticking it to the wall.

Nik released a ragged breath and squeezed his eyes shut, his brows drawing together. “Aria…”

“Open your eyes, love. I thought you wanted to watch?”

When he looked at her again, the need in his gaze was almost enough to make her cave. Especially when he combined it with words, those filthy fucking words she loved so much, tumbling desperately from his mouth. “Let me in. Let me touch you, eali mou. You don’t want that. You want me.” He jerked his hips up, thrusting into his own fist as if he couldn’t control his movements.

Coils of need slid over her body, tightening like rope, making her limbs feel heavy. Aria’s pulse pounded in her ears, its rhythm earthy and lustful. Her pussy was so wet, so hot, so swollen, she felt as if she had something wedged between her thighs—as if the cock she wanted so badly had already driven its way home.

But it hadn’t. Not yet.

“You’ve won quite enough today,” she told him over the water’s gentle spray. “You’re getting even cockier than usual. If you want something from me, sweetheart, you’ll have to beg.”

His eyes flared at the challenge, his hand stroking faster. He leaned back against the bathroom counter and watched her from beneath heavy lids, his mouth easing into a lazy smirk. “We’ll see.”

Yes, they fucking would. Rolling her eyes, Aria poured out a handful of body wash and let soft, creamy bubbles form. Then she ran her foamy hands over her arms, her movements slow and sensuous and deliberately teasing. It was pretty fucking gratifying to start with something as small as her wrist and have Nik hiss under his breath like she’d just swallowed his cock.

When she started stroking her hips and abdomen, Nik straightened, abandoning his casual posture. He came to stand right by the glass, one hand flat against the shower door as if he wanted to break through. But he wouldn’t.

She had a glorious close-up, now, of his big hand rubbing that dark, veined cock. Of the pearly beads of pre-come dripping steadily from its head, making the taut skin gleam. Of his face, lips parted, eyes heavy-lidded and glittering with need.

“Fuck, yes,” he groaned when she pinched her nipples with soapy fingers. “Play with yourself for me.”

“Not for you,” she corrected primly, running a hand over her the curve of her belly. He liked her belly, soft and fleshy and stretch-marked as it was. Just like he liked her tits, tiny and sort of saggy as they were. In fact, Aria realised, he seemed to have a thing for every single part of her. She skimmed her hands over her thighs, and he grunted a curse; she spun around and soaped up her arse, and he banged a fist against the door.

“You want me to come in now,” he said, desperation lurking beneath his confident tone.

“No, thank you.”

“You do. Bend over, moro mou, let me see your cunt. Spread your legs and—God, yes. Fuck. Don’t you want me inside you? I know you do. I know you do.”

“No,” she lied, standing up and letting the shower wash away all of her soap.

“Look at me, Aria.” His voice was smooth as caramel, rich as chocolate, smoky as sin. She turned despite herself and did as he asked. She looked.

She looked at the way his biceps shifted as he worked his own cock. She looked at the desire on his face when he ran a thumb over the slick, swollen head. She looked at his broad chest and remembered the spine-tingling sensation of its soft hair rubbing against her tender breasts.

“Let me in,” he murmured.

She shook her head and reached behind her, finding the toy she’d stuck to the wall. “Beg.”

---