Page 41 of Fake Fiancé for the Billionaire Rockstar

“Hell if I know,” she whispers, her gaze locked on mine, pupils blown wide.right before slamming her lips against mine in a searing kiss that has me turning into pathetic putty in her hands.

She could will me to do anything right now and I would, no questions asked.

I breathe in her floral scent, mixed with a hint of vanilla, and groan against the curve of her neck. Her hips grind into my lap, slowly and surely, and it takes everything in me not to tear the dress from her body.

I’m giving her control.

And the way she looks at me—like she’s weighing every possible outcome, every line we could cross—makes me want her even more.

Then she leans in just a little closer, her eyes searching mine. "Donny," she whispers, "what are we doing?"

In this moment, with Carmen in my arms, our breaths mingling, I can't tell where the act ends and reality begins. The line we've been toeing has become so blurred, it's practically invisible.

"I don't know," I finally admit, my voice barely audible. "But I know I don't want to stop."

15

Carmen

I don’t know whatcame over me. My body isn’t listening to my brain’s frantic commands to move. We’re tangled on the floor, his body hard against mine, and I can’t bring myself to pull away. And now? Now I’m drowning in the sensation.

Donny is looking at me as though he’s trying to figure out what’s running through my head, but I highly doubt he’s ever going to figure it out — I can’t figure it out myself.

Everything was fine—we were heading into the bedroom, and I just had to make a mess over something as trivial as shoes. I couldn’t decide what to wear, so I kicked off pair after pair, scattering the rejects without a second thought. Now they’ve come back to haunt me.

The moment we hit the floor, I should’ve put as much distance as possible between us.Instead, I thought kissing him would be the best thing to do.

Now my head is spinning and his length is brushing against my thighs, inviting me to do more, and I’m desperately trying to rein in at least some semblance of control.

It’s bad enough I kissed him already.

Donny’s gaze is hot on mine as he looks at me and I start to lift my leg from his lap, only for his hold on my waist to get tighter.

“You started this,” he whispers.

He trails his searing gaze over my frame, stopping at my breasts that are nearly exploding out of my dress, and he groans before shutting his eyes.

“Tell me you don’t want this, and I’ll let you go.”

He’s giving me an out, I realize that, so why the hell am I not moving away from him? There’s something about being in this position, having all the control right now, that has my belly dipping with desire.

Instead of moving like I know I should, I reach out and run my hand over his covered chest. Electricity crackles between us. Donny’s breath hitches, and I feel a surge of power. I’m playing with fire, but I don’t care—I want to feel the burn.

I can feel the defined muscles beneath it, which doesn’t surprise me, and I dart my tongue out over my lip at the thought of tracing them. He lets out a ragged breath, somehow sensing what I’m thinking about, and looks into my eyes as if to tell me silently to do whatever I want.

This isn’t just my control—it’s mine to take.

A thrill buzzes through me, fueled by the wine still humming in my veins, as I grind my hips against him, feeling his length harden beneath my thigh. My hands slide under his white tee, savoring the warmth of his skin against my fingertips. When he told me to dress for the occasion, I didn’t waste any time dolling myself up. I thought for sure he would be wearing a suit, or something just as nice.

Nothing quite beats the jeans and t-shirt look, though, so I can’t be too upset that I went overboard on my attire.

Donny’s breath hitches as my hands roam over his abs, every muscle rippling under my touch. I trace my fingernail along the contours of his hard body, feeling the raw power beneath my fingertips. His skin is warm, alive, and the thrill of this moment—of what’s about to happen—sends a shiver down my spine.

Before I can second-guess myself, I slowly ease his shirt off and toss it aside. The sight of him—shirtless, his tattoos stark against his skin—makes my breath catch. I’ve seen him a thousand times, but never like this. Never like someone I could touch, claim.

Except... Oh, how I’ve noticed him. I just never allowed myself to indulge in the thought.

But now, with him right in front of me, his heat mixing with mine, I lean in. I press my lips to the side of his neck, leaving a trail of soft, teasing kisses down to his chest. The heady scent of him surrounds me as I kiss lower, feeling the rise and fall of his breaths. My hips grind against the front of his jeans, creating a delicious friction that makes me dizzy with want. I’m about to slip my hand beneath the waistband, desperate to touch him, but he catches my wrist, halting me.

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