Page 60 of The Enemy of My Enemy Is… My Fake Boyfriend?

His thrusting fingers took on the perfect rhythm, his large palm grinding into my clit over and over. I somehow spread my legs even more, giving him better access, deeper, more, just more, faster, harder, deeper.

My breaths came out in little puffs as I drew closer and closer to the finish line with every pounding and banging of his fingers in my soaking wet channel, his hand rubbing against my swollen clit.

Thank goodness for the loud music because I was pretty sure we were making some obscene noises with his fingers fucking me.

The classical music hit a crescendo at the same time I did, a moment hanging at the peak before I began to tumble over into the abyss.

"Bite my shoulder," Ethan said in a low voice.

And I did. Right as it hit me, I turned my face and bit him hard to keep myself from crying out and causing a scene.

Waves of pleasure rolled through me, my pussy pulsing around his strong fingers, shivers of euphoria vibrating from my clit to my toes and back again. Ethan rode it out with me, keeping his warm hand on me, not pulling away in disgust at the gushing mess I'd become.

I let up on his shoulder, giving him a quick kiss there, hoping I hadn't hurt him somehow, even though he'd been the one to suggest it.

"Sorry about that," I said in a breathy voice.

"Sorry about what?"

"Biting you."

"Honestly? That was the highlight of my life."

I giggled at his ridiculous statement, the aftereffects of my orgasm and the buzz of the champagne making me downright giddy. With impeccable timing, a waiter came around to give us yet another bottle, filling up our glasses with the fizzy bubbles. Thanking him, I couldn't meet his eyes. Did he know what we'd just done in this dark back corner?

"I'm sure we're not the first to do that, babe," Ethan said once he left, finally removing his hand from my pussy.

He stuck his fingers in his mouth, his eyes boring into mine as he made a show of licking them clean, the implication that he could actually like the taste of me impossible to ignore. Giving me a devilish grin when he was done, he dried them on a clean cloth napkin, which he then handed to me.

Once I cleaned myself up, I sheepishly held the napkin in my hand, not sure what to do with it. Ethan took it from me and set it on the table, saying in an amused tone, "Again, we're not the first."

He had a point, but still. I took a big drink of my champagne, downing half the glass in one go. "Um, can I have my underwear back?" I asked.

"No."

"No?"

"You handed your panties over to me. They're mine now."

I was so flabbergasted, I had no response. Was he serious?

The boat bumped something, and I grabbed onto Ethan's arm. "What was that?"

"I think we're back at the dock."

I looked at the champagne bottle that had barely been touched. "Oh, no. That's practically a sin."

In the time it took to secure the boat to the dock, I got to work finishing the bottle, Ethan watching me carefully. He warned me a few times that it was fine, that we could probably even take it with us.

But did I listen? No.

For some reason, I had it in my head that I had to complete the mission. I couldn't be sure why, but maybe a small part of it was embarrassment. Okay, a large part of it was embarrassment. That I'd practically begged Ethan to finger fuck me, that I'd once again made a massive mistake when it came to the male species, and that I would never, ever learn, even after getting my heart and pride broken by the previous asshole.

Burying my worries in a bottle... not cool, not classy, and very unoriginal. But at this point, I didn't care. I'd do just about anything to make me forget what an idiot I'd just been.

Nineteen

Ethan

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