Page 93 of The Fake Dating War

My spine curves.Finally.

He’s panting now, testing my walls. “She’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. Her name needs to fit that.”

Did he just—admit I’m sexy? I don’t know. I can’t think any longer, because he’s curled his finger. It’s never felt like this with anyone before. Heat is pooling out of me, and despite it not being his cock, I feel branded byeventhis. It’s so intimate. He’s inside me.

He slowly adds another finger and then pumps them harder. It’s the thickness I’ve been missing. The sensation makes my eyes roll back, and I almost scream when he licks my clit again. He sucks on it so hungrily.

“I should punish you,” he groans.

“Why?” I stammer.

“For making me so desperate for your crumbs.”

His answer doesn’t have time to register, because I’m hurtling off a cliff. I’ve been edged for so long that pleasure bursts like an explosion. My whole body seizes, and my long, broken, keening cry spills out into the room.

It takes time for my body to settle. And when all the trembles and shakes and moans have been wrung out of me, I’m glad I didn’t say his name. Because it’s the combination lock protecting the other, much more terrifying words from coming out.

I like this. You. A lot. Don’t let it end. I love?—

48

JAKE

My heart is a wild horse in my chest. It feels like it’s about to rip out of my chest and join her on the bed. I hold my fist against it.For fucks sake, remember who you belong to.

Strong words for someone whose knees are this weak.

“That was a gorgeous orgasm,” I say, unable to stop myself. She’s still sprawled on the bed, clearly recovering. Waves of her dark hair fan around her face, strands going off in all directions. Her cheeks are bright and flush. Her mouth moves as she breathes deeply, lips plump, swollen, and used. There’s a tremble in her body I want to gather in my hands and push further. It feels as if this could be the last image in my head I ever see without any fucking regrets.

When she puts her hand to her breast, I have to adjust myself. I wince since it’s painful. My cock is doing some weeping of its own.

“XL condoms,” says Patel. Her head has turned to the side, and she’s peeking at me through slitted eyes. Her voice is dreamy. I wonder if she knows what she is saying.

It takes me effort to grasp it myself. Blame the blood still thundering in my ears. XL. My size. “You looked through my bag,” I say, finally understanding.

“No idea what you’re talking about,” she denies. “Direct your accusations to my lawyer.”

I can’t help but laugh. “Do you have one?”

“No.But you do.”

There’s a silentWhy?at the end of her statement. Before I wonder how to answer it, she circles back.

“Hm. XL condoms,” she says again randomly, rubbing a spot above her eyebrow. “But what’s theactualdifference between the sizes?”

Come fit me in your mouth and tell me.

And with that, I have to adjust myself again.

The movement piques her interest. She comes up on her elbows, staring at it. That is not helping. What also isn’t helping is the musky smell of her desire still on my mouth, my hands, and in the air around us. I haven’t had enough of it. I’m afraid that I don’t think it’s possible to have enough.

“Are we—” she says

“Do you need?—”

She waves her hand at me. “You go first.”

“Are you—okay?” Was it too intense? Did she like being touched like that? Did I push her too hard? Maybe I should have taken things slower, seducing her with my words and touches. Kept them soft. Easy. Instead of being rough with my demands.

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