Page 79 of Rockstar's Fake Engagement

He sits up, then stands, pulling me up beside him. His arm is possessively around my waist, not allowing me to escape his touch. He needs me close—as much as I need him this close.

We leave our scattered clothing, and I lead him to my bedroom. His eyes darken as he sees the queen bed with its pristine white coverlet and pretty pillow shams. He keeps walking through my bedroom to the ensuite. He hums a sigh of approval when he sees my large walk-in shower. I see his eyes gleam as he takes in the rain shower head and tiled seat.

“I’m ready for a shower. Aren’t you, Lace?”

I nod as he reaches in and turns on the hot water. The steam billowing around us. I open the cabinet and pull out three bigfluffy towels, placing them within reach. Nate finishes testing the water and then holds out his hand for me to take. As I place my palm in his, I shiver at the gleam in his eye as he follows close behind me into the warm stall.

Then I feel his arms go around me, and I can’t think—I can only feel as he pulls me under the warm spray. He scoops up my shampoo and pours it into his palm, and then he’s gently washing my hair, and I tremble in his arms.

Once we have both rinsed our hair, he grabs a washcloth and slowly lathers it with my scented lavender soap. Then he washes me, running the washcloth oh so slowly and thoroughly over my damp skin. He takes special care to ensure every inch is clean. By the time he’s through, my legs are weak, and my breath is choppy in anticipation of his touch.

It’s finally my turn, and he presents his broad back as he faces away from me. My hands massage in the soapy washcloth, feeling his hard muscles bunch beneath my palms. His body is a work of art. All hard chiseled muscle, and his ass is oh so fine. I feel his muscles clench under my hands as I caress his firm buttocks. I hear his muffled curse, and he turns around to face me. His fingers encircle my wrist, stilling my wandering hand. I look up, and his face is tight. I look down, and my breath catches.

He’s fully aroused. His cock long and thick as it taps proudly against his flat stomach. My eyes graze over the defined lines on either side of his hips, and my hands itch to explore those taunt lines.

My eyes go to half-mast as I maneuver around him and sit on the warm, tiled seat. This puts me in line with what I want to do to him. And when I glance up at his face, it’s as if he’s turned to stone, and his jaw clenches as I pull him closer.

Close enough that I can lean forward and wrap my fingers around his turgid cock. He feels like velvet, wet steel, as I begin to stroke his length from root to tip. Bending, I take him into my mouth, and I hear his breath grow harsher as my lips wrap around him. As I continue to pleasure him, he braces his hand on the tile behind me. Leaning into my touch. I hear him give a strangled breath when I suddenly deep-throat him.

His hips begin to move, thrusting towards me as I continue to suck and stroke him. Suddenly, he backs away, and I look up at him in confusion. He growls as he pulls me off the seat, then roughly turns me around, his hands bending me over, and my hands go out to grip the seat.

“I want—I need to be inside you.” His voice is gruff. My head is down, my ass in the air. I feel his hair-roughened thigh as he spreads my legs farther apart, and I shiver in response.

His hand presses down on the small of my spine, and I arch my back. I feel him behind me as he positions me right where he wants me. Then he’s thrusting forward, and I have to lock my elbows to keep me in place for his forceful thrusts. In this prone position, he fills me completely, and I gasp at the fullness of him.

His hands grip my hips, and I feel him plant his feet, his stance wide as he continues to surge into me, and I push back, wanting more, wanting him—all of him.

He increases the tempo as he pounds into me from behind. I’m close, but my passion builds slowly. “Come for me, Lace.”

Then I feel his hand come down in front of me, his long fingers finding my swollen clit, and he deliberately presses down on it. Hard. The unexpected stimuli is just enough that I shatter. My body involuntarily clenching down on him and milking him. He gives a low groan as he gives a final deep thrust and follows me over the edge.

When he finally reaches down, assisting me up, my face is flushed not only from being in that position but from the strength of my orgasm.

He pulls me close and slowly kisses me. Then opens the shower door and grabs the towels. We slowly dry each other off, only stopping a few times to steal a kiss or caress bare skin.

Suddenly, Nate bends, picks me up by my waist, and carries me backward toward the bed. My legs wrap automatically around his waist.

“We have the whole night, Lace. And we’re just getting started.”

Sunlight streams through my bedroom windows as I sit cross-legged in the middle of the queen-sized bed, a plate balanced on my lap, nibbling on a chocolate croissant as I scroll through my phone.

Across from me, Nate leans against the headboard, naked, arms folded behind his head, watching me like I’m the most interesting thing in the world. His dark hair is still damp from the shower, and the shadow of stubble along his jaw makes him look deliciously rumpled and thoroughly satisfied.

He smirks, eyes roaming over my bare legs where my oversized tee—the one I stole from his suitcase—barely covers me.

“You look so innocent right now—all wide-eyed and princess-like,” he muses, his voice still rough from sleep.

I arch a brow, swallowing my bite of croissant. “Is that a bad thing?”

“Not at all.” He reaches out, running a lazy hand up my thigh. “Just funny, considering how not innocent you were last night.”

Heat spreads through my cheeks, and I mock-frown at him even as my stomach clenches.

He grins, dragging his fingers higher, teasingly slow. “I mean, if only your adoring fans knew their company darling had a wild side.”

I nearly choke on my pastry. “Nate!”

“What?” He leans closer, his breath warm against my ear. “I especially liked the part where you—“

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