Page 26 of Fake It 'Til You Feel It

His praise sends a wicked thrill through me, and I hum around him, the vibration tearing a broken groan from his lips. His fingers tangle deeper in my hair, tugging just enough to make my scalp tingle, guiding me as I take him deeper. He throbs against my tongue, thick and hot, the taste of salt and pure need coating my senses. My lashes flutter as I press forward, swallowing him down, the stretch making my eyes sting deliciously.

A rough curse spills from him. “Fuck, Dana. Just like that.”

The words shoot straight to my core, and I whimper around him, letting my nails dig into his thighs as I pull back slowly, dragging my tongue along the thick vein that pulses beneath my lips. I flick my tongue against the tip, savoring the way he twitches, the way his hips jerk forward, desperate for more.

His breath falters, jagged and erratic. “You’re gonna make me lose my fucking mind.”

I hum in response, a teasing little purr that makes his grip tighten, makes his restraint snap entirely as he takes control, thrusting deeper into my mouth. The wet, obscene sounds fill the air, mixing with his panting breaths, with the sharp groan that tells me he’s teetering on the edge, hanging by a thread. And I want to push him over.

I tighten my grip, nails scraping as I suck his cock deeper into my throat, hollowing my cheeks, swallowing around him like I’m learning he loves. His thighs tremble beneath my touch, his entire body wound tight, straining.

He’s so fucking close.

“Look at me,” he rasps. I obey, tilting my head back to meet his gaze. His pupils are blown, his lips parted, his expression so wrecked, so fucking desperate that it makes my cunt clench around nothing.

He groans deep, head tipping back. “Christ. You’re gonna ruin me.”

The weight of him, the way he takes control, is electrifying. I meet his thrusts eagerly, lost in the moment. His groans grow more primal, his control fraying as he pushes deeper, fucking my face with a frenzied pace. He pulls back, his release spilling over my chest—hot and possessive—leaving me breathless and needy.

Nathan tilts my chin up with his forefinger, his thumb skimming over my lower lip as he leans in, his voice thick with promise. “You’re mine, Dana. Every part of you.”

Cool air kisses my bare skin, battling the heat radiating from Nathan’s body. I simply indulge when he leans down, gripping my hips to pull me up so I’m swaying in front of him.

He turns me, pressing my palms flat against the dresser, positioning me in front of the mirror. His lips chase his hands, pressing kisses into my neck, nipping and tasting, dragging his teeth over the sensitive skin just below my ear like he has all the time in the world.

His grip tightens. A silent command.

Then he moves, steering me backward, his steps slow, deliberate, ensuring I feel every moment—every shift, every breath—as he maneuvers me toward the bed. His body presses against mine, the firm heat of his chest guiding me until the backs of my thighs hit the edge of the mattress. He spins me in place, then stills.

“Down,” he instructs simply.

And I sink, my knees meeting the bed as my chest meets the mattress. My breath trembles.

Before I can adjust, his palm glides up my spine—each touch deliberate, every caress practiced—until his fingers encircle the nape of my neck. Like a collar he’s always meant to place there, grounding and possessive.

His chest is a solid wall of heat at my back, his body caging me in. One hand skims my hip before gripping hard, keeping me exactly where he wants me, his breath ghosting over my ear, dark and commanding.

Nathan doesn’t just position me in front of the mirror—he traps me there.

“Eyes on us,” he orders, voice low and unyielding. “No looking away.”

I’m face down, ass up, fully exposed to him and the mirror he’s positioned me in front of.

A shudder racks through me, my fingers curling into sheets as his thumb strokes over the back of my neck—both a restraint and a reminder.

I can see him moving behind me, each shift a torment, the deliberate dragging of his fingertips down my stomach makes my thighs tense. I watch my reflection, watch the slow spread of his hands over my ass, the way he parts me for his own view before his gaze flicks up to meet mine in the glass.

My breath stutters.

Nathan smirks, dragging his fingers lower—so close, but not nearly enough.

“Tell me what you see.”

My lips part, but nothing comes out. My body trembles, a live wire sizzling beneath my skin.

His grip tightens at my neck, his other hand pressing down on my lower back, keeping me exactly where he wants me. “Try again, beautiful.”

My breaths turn shallow, choked, my pulse hammering. I keep watching, forcing my eyes open to hold his gaze as heat coils low and wet in my pussy.

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