Page 129 of The Fake Date Agreement

My orgasm slams into me. I writhe and pant as it keeps going, an endless wave of pleasure. Reid holds me, kissing me lightly and stroking my hips. He eases me down so he can bring me back up again.

I don’t know how long he’s been doing this, but I think I’m ready to die.

He’s kissing my hip when I tug at his hair. “Reid?”

“I’ve barely started,” he says with a smile as he presses the lightest, sweetest kiss on my pulsing clit.

My stomach clenches. “I want to touch you.”

“This is about making you feel good.” His next kiss lands next to my pussy, and it flutters in response.

“Five minutes.”

He lifts his head to look at me, hair wild, eyes creased with amusement. “What?”

“Five minutes. I need a break, or my head will explode. I want to touch you.”

His smile fades. “For five minutes?”

I nod.

He reaches over to grab his phone off my desk.

“What are you doing?”

“Setting a timer so you don’t distract me from what I came here for,” he says with a cheeky smile.

“You have to lie back,” I tell him, getting to my knees and crawling toward him.

All signs of amusement are fading as I stroke my hands over his chest and lean in close to kiss his neck. This man tastes as good as he smells, and I never want to take my hands off him.

He groans, and his head tips back as I feel his fingers graze the ends of my hair. “Didn’t say anything about kisses, beautiful.”

“Does that mean you want me to stop?” I brush my fingers over his pants, cupping and smiling when he groans in response.

“Not exactly.”

A smile splits his face when I push him onto his back and tug off his sweatpants, tossing his shoes and pants to the floor.

That smile dies when I angle my kisses downward. “Tobie?”

Stopping an inch from the bulge in his boxers, I flick my gaze up to him. “Do you want me to stop?”

He shudders as I speak. Is he feeling the warm air I’m blowing over him?

His hand is in my hair, holding me there.

Slowly, he draws me toward him.

And just as slowly, I peel his briefs from his body.

He’s beautiful. Thick. Long. I need to know how he tastes.

I lick the tip.

His hand fists in my hair, and he hisses a breath. “Shit.”

I circle the rim, scoot down a little more, and part my lips, forming a tight seal. And I suck.

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