Page 43 of Fake Fiancé for the Billionaire Rockstar

“Fuck, Carmen,” he rasps against my ear, his voice rough and full of restraint. “You’re so wet and tight for me.” I shiver at the sound, the intimacy of his words making my skin burn. And when he shifts slightly, giving the tiniest thrust, my body answers in kind—arching, begging for more, unable to get enough.

A whimper escapes me, my body trembling beneath him, and it’s all the invitation Donny needs. He pulls back slowly, teasing me with the loss, only to thrust back in—deeper, harder. The pleasure is instant and all-consuming, exploding through me like a fire that spreads to every nerve. My hips move instinctively, meeting his with a desperate need for more.

A low groan rumbles from his chest, the sound vibrating through me as he picks up the pace, driving deeper and harder with every thrust. The slick sound of our bodies meeting fills the room, mingling with our ragged breaths, wild and untamed. Each thrust sends me hurtling closer to the edge, the tension inside me coiling tighter, threatening to snap.

“Donny…” His name slips from my lips, a plea wrapped in a moan as my head falls back into the pillows, surrendering fully to him.

While thrusting, his hand slides between us, finding my clit with maddening precision. The second his fingers circle the sensitive spot, I shatter. My body clenches around him, the orgasm crashing into me with devastating force. I cry out, nails raking down his back as wave after wave of pleasure rolls through me, leaving me gasping for air.

But Donny isn’t finished—not even close. He keeps moving, relentless in his pursuit of pleasure, his cock driving into me with a rhythm that steals what little control I have left. I can feel him unraveling, each thrust growing rougher, more desperate.

He groans, his breath hot against my skin as his rhythm falters. His hips slam into me one final time, burying himself deep with a low growl as his release overtakes him. The heat of him pulses inside me, and I can feel every tremor of his climax, each shudder pushing me further into bliss.

Donny collapses against me, his breath ragged, the weight of him grounding me as we ride out the aftershocks together—connected, spent, and completely lost in the moment.

As the high fades, reality comes crashing back in.

What the hell have I done?

His lips find mine in a soft, lingering kiss—tender, almost reverent. It feels too intimate, too real. My heart clenches, tangled in emotions I’m not ready to face.

Before I can say anything, Donny shifts, pressing one last kiss to my temple before sliding off the bed. Then, without a word, he stands and walks to the bathroom, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

The room is suddenly too quiet. My heart pounds in my chest, my mind racing with the implications. This isn’t just physical—it’s changed something. And I don’t know how to fix it. I don’t know if I even want to.

But as I lie here, still tingling from his touch, my body sated, one truth refuses to leave my mind.

It was worth it. Every single second. God help me...I’d do it again.

***

When I wake the next morning, sunlight pours through the window, far too cheerful for the storm raging inside me.

I lie still for a moment, acutely aware of Donny's warmth beside me. Last night replays in my mind - not just the physical passion, but the moments of tenderness, the way his eyes held mine, full of wonder and something deeper. It was a connection that shook me to my core.

Carefully, I turn to look at him. In sleep, his face is relaxed, vulnerable. I'm struck by how young he looks, reminding me of the stories he's shared about his childhood. Growing up as an only child, finding solace in music, his grandmother being his biggest supporter. I remember the night he told me about her buying his first drum kit, the way his eyes lit up at the memory.

"She always believed in me," he'd said, "even when no one else did."

Looking at him now, I wonder what she'd think of us, of this complicated tangle we've woven. Would she see past the fake engagement, recognize the real feelings growing between us?

My chest tightens with an emotion I'm not ready to name. This isn't just about physical attraction anymore. It's about the Donny who inspires me to live in the moment, who remembers how I take my coffee, who looks at me like I'm the only person in the room even when we're surrounded by crowds.

But with this realization comes fear. Last night we crossed a line, and there's no going back.

I slip out of bed, needing space to clear my head. As I dress, I can't help but glance back at Donny. For a moment, I'm tempted to wake him, to talk this through. But the weight of what's happened, of what it might mean, is too much to face right now.

So I do what I've always done when things get complicated. I run.

A knot tightens in my chest, and I let out a long, shaky breath, hoping that fresh air will help clear my head. I slip into a pair of sweats and a sweatshirt, trying to shake off the lingering warmth from the bed—and from him.

Damn it. I drag my eyes away and force myself to focus. I need space. I need to get out of this cabin before my thoughts spiral any further.

I take a deep breath when I come to a stop in front of the door, then I reach forward and turn the knob slowly. It’s only when I get the door open, the fresh air pouring in through the opening, that I finally let the breath I was holding out and hurry to put boots on.

There’s still snow on the ground, but it’s not as bad as it was the other day when we first got snowed in thanks to the sun that wasn’t supposed to be there.

Maybe someone’s looking out for me after all and realized I needed the escape.

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