Page 36 of It's Not All Fake

I trail kisses down the insides of her legs, spreading them incrementally wider, making a path toward where she's wet and waiting.

My pace is maddeningly slow, deliberate. She squirms beneath me, and I have to hold her leg steady as I worship her with my mouth. Every nerve in my body screams to rush, to take her now, but this—this torturous climb—will mean so much more.

I am so aroused; my heart is pounding. I'm so close now, so damn close to tasting her. I pause, breathing hard, my eyes locking onto Chloe's right before I lower my mouth to where she’s most sensitive, my tongue finding her clit.

Her sharp intake of breath is a sweet sound as I take her, my mouth fierce against the tender bud of nerves at the apex of her thighs.

Her arms sprawl above her head, a silent submission that sets my blood on fire.

My tongue flicks, wanting to drive her insane, as I slide two fingers inside her. She's so wet, so ready.

Chloe moans and writhes in pleasure. I don't let up, my mouth and fingers working in tandem to draw every shiver, every shuddering breath from her.

Her breath comes faster, a staccato rhythm that matches the pulse I feel throbbing through her veins.

My fingers curl inside her, relentless in their search as she trembles beneath my touch. The moment I find it, her sweet spot, Chloe practically levitates off the couch. I feel her inner walls tense up.

"Liam," she groans, her voice a husky note that vibrates through me. Her head rolls back against the cushion. I feel the rush of wetness on my fingers and Chloe goes limp. She's come undone at my touch, and the raw intimacy of it grips me fiercely.

I pull myself up along Chloe's body, muscles taut and mind homed in on the feel of her beneath me. My cock nudges against her. She's warm and ready, the evidence still slick on my fingers.

Chloe's hands find their way into my hair, her grip firm and wanting. She drags me down to her lips, fierce and full of fire. I kiss her back with equal fervor.

"I want you," she murmurs against my mouth. Her legs wrap around my waist, pulling me closer, urging me on without a single doubt.

My eyes lock onto hers. They're wide and dark with desire, a silent yes. She’s breathing fast and waiting to accept me.

I’m so hard, I can’t take anymore waiting. Every nerve ending screams for release.

I position myself, the head of my cock just brushing against her, teasing us both. It's a moment of exquisite torture, that split second before everything changes.

Slowly, I push inside. Her grip on my hair tightens, a gasp escaping her as she takes me in. Her heat envelops me, and it's all-consuming.

"Look at me, Chloe," I whisper, as I start to move, and she does. The look in her eyes, it anchors me and undoes me all at once. Watching her every flicker of emotion, of pleasure and surrender, as I move inside of her arouses me even more. I thrill at her letting me take her completely.

I groan and dive in for another kiss, building up a rhythm. Chloe's warmth surrounds me, tight and perfect. This isn’t the eyes-closed, drunk sex that I’m accustomed to. This a stone-cold sober, lights-on, we-know-exactly-what-we-are-doing sex—and it’s so much more fucking hot.

Chloe purrs with pleasure, spurring me on. I change my rhythm, my body rocks into hers with an intensity that has us both breathing harder.

My hand finds the silk of her hair, gently pulling her head back. Her neck, exposed and vulnerable, beckons my lips and I lay claim to her skin there. I alternate my pace, slow then quick, teasing us both with the promise of release.

The pace quickens, desperate and reckless. We're on the edge, teetering, and I want to fall over it together. I reach down, fingers finding her clit, and I rub fast circles.

Her body convulses, gripping me tight, and her cry, a mix of my name and a string of expletives, fills the room. It's the most beautiful thing I've ever heard.

It’s too much—it pushes me over the edge. I find the sweet release inside her.

I bury my face in her neck, breathing hard, as waves of pleasure roll over us both.

We rest for a moment, basking in the afterglow.

Her ponytail is smashed to one side, the tie almost falling out, and loose curls are everywhere. The definition of sex hair.

Everything is changed between us. I crossed the line. And I couldn’t be happier.

As I give her a kiss, I am struck once again by how stunningly beautiful she is. She responds with a shy smile, which surprises me given how confident and comfortable she was a moment ago.

I think about telling her that she doesn’t need to be shy with me. But before I can speak, I hear a low rumbling noise in the hall beyond her closed office door.

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