Page 77 of The Match Faker

Jesus Christ.

She tasted like sweet berries and my hungry mouth moved over hers like I was sampling my favourite meal.

I slid my arm around her waist, pulling her into me, and as her perfect tits pressed against my chest, a husky groan flew from the back of my throat.

Fuck.

Her lips.

Her taste.

I knew kissing Mia would be good, but this was off the scale.

This was everything.

She thrust her hand in my hair, her nails grazing my scalp, and it felt so damn good.

Her hands trailed down my back, then she grabbed my arse, causing my rock-hard cock to poke her belly.

Holy shit.

Mia was actually enjoying this.

So was I.

Way too much.

I knew where this was going. In a few seconds, my hands would be up her dress. Then I’d lift Mia onto this kitchen island and fuck her.

And if that happened, there’d be no going back.

I had to stop this before things got out of control.

Reluctantly, I pulled away.

Mia opened her eyes, her lips still parted.

‘Th-that was…’ she panted. ‘That was, um, I think we’d convince them if we did that. That was pretend, right?’

‘If I was kissing you for real, sweetheart,’ I growled, ‘you wouldn’t be able to stand or see straight right now.’

Mia swallowed hard.

The fact that I wanted to kiss her was very real. But as much as I’d enjoyed it, that was just a warm-up. A taster.

I meant what I said. If Mia was mine, I wouldn’t just kiss her. I’d devour her.

And judging by the look of desire on her face, that was exactly what she wanted me to do.

29

Mia

‘Ishould…’ I stepped back, wracking my brain for something to say to excuse myself from this situation. I needed a minute to gather my thoughts.

Scrap that. Even if I had a week, I wouldn’t be able to compose myself after that kiss.

Liam’s words played on repeat in my mind:

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