Page 49 of The Fake Play

“I don't have time to delegate what I need you to do, I just need you to do things.”

He looks at the scattering of papers, and I see the panic on his face. “I am happy to help, believe me I am, but I don't know what needs to be done.”

I open my mouth to argue, but something in his voice stops me. Maybe it’s the way he cares, the sincerity that always cuts through my walls. Or maybe it’s those damn puppy dog eyes that get me every time. I replay what I’d just said to him and realize I was expecting him to be psychic. I feel like an idiot.

“I'm sorry. I'm just super stressed out.”

“Would it make you feel better if I went down on you for an hour or two?”

I laugh, the absurdity of his proposition breaking down the wall. “Thanks, I needed that. So?—”

He spins my chair around so I’m facing him. “I am dead serious.”

I shake my head in disbelief, the corners of my mouth twitching as I struggle to maintain my composure. “No you're not.”

Before I can protest further, he hoists me out of my chair, carrying me effortlessly to his bedroom. My protests fade into laughter as the ridiculousness of the situation lightens my mood. “Okay, okay, I get it. You're serious. Ha, ha. Very funny. Now come on, I have things I have to do.”

Instead of taking me back to my chair, he lays me gently on his bed. “Just relax, let me take care of you.”

As he kneels before me, my heart races with anticipation. Slowly, he removes my clothes, one piece at a time. Each time I protest, he gently shakes his head, smiling. His bed smells like him, and that makes me want to never leave it. But I have things to do. My mind wars with my desires. By the time I’m naked, I’m completely disarmed.

“You really were serious, huh?”

He peers into my eyes as he takes his own clothes off. It’s like having my own private stripper but way more intense as he slowly and deliberately removes one article at a time. Laying back and watching him take off all of his clothes is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.

This isn’t just a physical act. He’s making it about me, focusing on taking care of me.

He spreads my ankles apart, gently kissing the inside of my legs, one after the other. Then my knees, and finally my thighs. I’m already trembling, but the moment that he kisses my center I all but lose control.

“Luke,” I murmur as my head digs back into the pillow.

“Mm-hm?”

“Don’t stop.”

He doesn’t. I raise myself to meet his mouth, gripping his hair to redirect him where I want him as my climax crashes into me. I lose myself in it, in him.

I release his hair and lay back, waiting for him to get on top of me. He scoops under my hips and lifts me up instead, placing me where he wants me before his tongue takes a more leisurely route. Slow licks up and down, side to side, his hands pulling me wide open for him. The man feasts on me as though he has all the time in the world.

As much as he says this is about me, I get the impression it’s more for him.

I’m his snack, his plaything. He sucks and nibbles, fingers and explores. Pleasure strikes as two fingers work their way into me, making my back bow. My thighs quiver on either side of him as he mumbles against me, “Now.” His word tingles through my clit, and I rocket to another orgasm, wet and hot as I come in his mouth.

My body surrenders to him, utterly and completely. He can ask for anything—anything—and I will give it to him. But his mouth is too busy.

By the fifth orgasm, I’m wrung out.

By the eighth, I’m nothing more than a euphoric husk of myself.

I keep waiting for him to come up for air or to fuck me, but he never does. As he tends to my needs, the stress becomes a distant memory, wiped out by a tsunami of pleasure.

I try to nudge him off of me but a blissful haze has taken over, my strength disintegrated. He kisses my inner thigh and looks up at me. “All done then?”

All I can do is nod. Nod and gasp.

“I'll draw you a bath.” With that, he vanishes into his bathroom.

Of course he’s going to draw me a bath. Next, he'll feed me peeled grapes while I'm in there while placing a wine glass to my lips and fanning me.

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