Page 79 of Forking the Billionaire

Instead, I asked, “What are you doing?”

She gave me her Cheshire smile, the one that promised she was up to absolutely no good. And with the two of us alone, I was more than glad to see it.

She poked the tip of her finger into the center of my chest. “Chasing after you, clearly.”

We were friends, always. I needed to remind my cock of that as it sprang to life. I didn’t know the rules. Crossing lines with her felt inevitable, yet terrifying.

It was messy, and complicated, or it should have been. It didn’t feel complicated enough as she slid her finger slowly down my chest, searing the skin beneath, until she hooked it on the waistband of my shorts and pulled me toward her.

The scent of her washed over me—sweet and intoxicating. She smelled like sunlight and chocolate and stolen kisses on Turtle Beach. It was impossible to think clearly with her this close, even if in the back of my mind I knew there were reasons I shouldn’t let her touch me.

But it was impossible to think of a single one as she tilted her chin and raised up on her toes.

“Call me Bramble,” she whispered. Her dark gaze flicked to my mouth.

Memories filled my head of that same dark gaze as she came all over my fingers. I craved her soft moans and the flush of her cheeks. I needed to undo her. It felt like the most natural thing in the world, and the most essential.

That’s what friends were for, right? I’d be whatever kind of friend she wanted me to be, and nothing more.

“Sure, Bramble,” I said, my throat tight. “Anything you?—”

She fisted the collar of my shirt and yanked hard on my neck, crashing her mouth against mine. It was rough and probing, and not even a little bit friendly. Maybe there was anger there, but I couldn’t tell. It was a fight, a demand, and a claim. Or maybe that’s what I wanted it to be.

But I’d be whatever she needed, that’s what I’d decided. And she clearly needed something from me. I told myself it didn’t matter how much I wanted her or what that could mean beyond these walls.

I backed her into the door, cupped her ass, and slid my fingers up into her soaked panties. She gasped. I wasn’t gentle. I couldn’t be gentle, not when my whole body was shaking, not when her mouth was on my neck or when she whimpered and rocked her clit harder into my hand.

She tore at my pants with the same desperation I felt. The sooner I was inside of her, the sooner I could breathe again.

She freed my cock, pulled back, and tore at a tiny square. A condom. It was the color of bubble gum, which I’d never seen before.

Her hands trembled ever so slightly.

She gave me a nervous smile. “Strawberry.”

Why did she have a strawberry condom in her dress pocket? I prayed it had been intended for me, but the last thing I wanted to do was bring up the possibility that it wasn’t. And thank fuck she had it. But I didn’t know if her nerves were hesitation, and I needed to.

“We don’t have to do this,” I said softly. “We can stop.” It might kill me, but I’d do it.

“Shhh,” she said.

I took the condom and slid it over my length. She pulled me flush against her, ran her hand over my erection, and scraped her teeth on my neck.

My brain short circuited. I pushed my fingers into her.

“Yes, yes, oh my yes,” she panted.

She was so fucking tight.

“Not much time,” she said.

Right, because all we had were stolen moments hidden away from the world. Because on the other side of this door, none of this was real.

“Inside me, now,” she said. Then softer, “Please, Jasper.”

I wasn’t sure which was hotter, the demand or the plea. But in a fervor of desperation, I tore her panties aside, lifted her by her thighs, and plunged into her.

She cried out the most delicious sound I’d ever heard and wrapped her arms over my shoulders and locked her legs around me. She tilted her hips, taking me deeper, and there aren’t words to describe the perfection of her tight pussy clenching my cock like this.

---