Page 66 of Faking It

She glances up, her expression distant as if she’s searching for the right words. “I wasn’t always so… guarded.”

I see a brick falling from her wall. Then another. And another. Her expression crumbles, and I brace for her tears as my cellphone rings in my pocket. It’s my dad. No doubt he’s calling to chew me out for leaving the party so early.

Cutting the ringer, I turn my attention back to Ana. She scrubs her face, and I see that wall being repaired, each brick fitted back in place.

“Um… I need to shower,” she mumbles, standing up. “See you in the morning, okay?”

I take her dismissal with an understanding nod. Like me, she’s carrying a huge burden, one that’s not easy to lay at someone else’s feet. To open up, she needs to trust me. We’re getting there, but not tonight.

“See you in the morning,” I reply.

Ana turns her back to me, and as I pull the door close, she lifts the dress over her head, and I glimpse the red lace panties that hug her curvy hips. I shut it quickly, then make my way down the carpeted hallway, my footsteps muffled, and I swear I can hear my heartbeat pounding in my ears.

Fuck, I need a shower, an ice-cold one to soften this rock-hard erection that’s already tenting my pants. I feel like a goddamn teenager. One flash of red panties and I’m fucking losing my mind. I can’t imagine what seeing her naked would do.

No, no, no. We can’t think of her naked—

Shit. It’s already too late. I won’t even make it to the shower.

Slamming the bedroom door behind me, I yank my pants down, the conjured image now stamped on my mind. Full breasts, flat stomach, thin waist, thick thighs, fat pussy—

Fuck.

Gripping my cock, I groan from the sheer pleasure, my hips already rocking as I stroke myself. Naked Ana spreads her legs and with a soft moan, slips two fingers inside her, gently pumping, the slick sounds of her arousal driving me up the fucking wall as I stroke myself harder.

She’s bouncing on her fingers now, her eyes closed, head thrown back, eyes caught between her teeth.Holy fucking hell. Even in my fantasy, she’s hot as fuck, finger-fucking herself to an orgasm as she screams my name.

It takes an embarrassing few minutes. A pleasurable sensation shoots from my balls, running up my shaft, bringing with it a hot spurt of semen that floods my palm. I hurry to the bathroom and finally get in the shower. Cleaning up takes less time than my recovery. In fact, I haven’t recovered at all. I merge from the shower minutes later, still rock-hard.

With a sigh, I get dressed. Maybe some work will take my mind off her. I make my way out of the bedroom, coming to an abrupt halt at the door with the digital keypad lock.

The space designed for my ultimate pleasure.

The room I’d never desired to invite another woman.

Until now.

A subtle beep sounds after I punch in the code. With a gentle turn of the knob, I enter, my eyes immediately falling on the metal frame of the bondage bed. Oh, how I would love to see her double-strapped on that mattress, completely at my mercy, pussy glistening with her arousal for me.

The things I’d do to her in every inch of this room.

I picture her suspended from that harness, her chest heaving with anticipation as I circle her, whip in hand. A rush of satisfaction floods me at the sound of leather against flesh. With a soft gasp, she flinches, her rosy nipples tightening as each strike turns her on even more, each strike swelling my cock. She’d beg me to fuck her right there and then, but I wouldn’t. I’d want her bent over on that bench, getting spanked with my paddle. I’d want Ana on her knees with my collar on, my cock deep down my throat, tears of ecstasy running down her face. I’d want her on all fours, handcuffed from behind, a gag in that gorgeous mouth.

Then, and only then would I fuck her.

Hard.

Deep.

Every stroke of my cock wrecking her. Wreckingus.

With a long, shuddering sigh, I walk out and secure the door with the code, leaving the fantasy right there where it belongs.

At least, I try to.

The thoughts follow me right into my office/studio. After turning the music on, I hasten to get my computer up and running, urgently trying to block that sensual fantasy from my mind, to keep my need for her at bay. Half an hour into editing some photos I intend to upload to my website, I realize it’s not enough to distract me. My body still aches for her. Still groans for her. The urge to take her increases with each passing minute.

There’s no way I can surrender, not when I know it will end in disaster. Not when it could make me lose everything. Ana deserves more than a man like me, anyway. I’m still a work in progress. If I hurt her—and I will—we’re both going to lose. Lose big.

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