Page 211 of The Fake Date Agreement

Maybe I don’t want to.

I spread my legs wider for him.

“I won’t come inside you,” he groans as he presses inward. “Trust that I won’t go that far.”

Just the tip, and I feel myself squeezing around him, trying to hold him there.

He’s tense. Every muscle locked tight. “This isn’t a good idea,” he whispers. “Shit. I don’t think I can stop.”

But even as he speaks, his hips are rocking.

The tip of his cock edges in the tiniest degree and out again.

My belly tingles, and my core pulses with each motion.

His kisses consume me, his hands stroking all over my body, cupping my breasts as he rocks against me.

We’re moving together, slowly at first, then faster, but stopping short of him pushing deep inside me.

We find the perfect rhythm.

The wet sound of sex fills the room as he works his cock through my pussy, and I rock back, my heels in the back of his thighs to keep up our frantic motion.

He lifts the top half of his body from mine, and his fingers strum my clit.

I twist and moan, arching my back. “Oh…”

“That feel good, baby?” He grunts as he strums again. Harder. More insistent. I twist to get away from his touch and to force myself closer.

“That’s it,” he whispers. “Let go now.”

My release is a white-hot wave that pulls me under.

I’m still falling when he grasps the base of his cock in one large fist and releases a deep groan as he comes over my pussy. Instinctively, I widen my legs, and he groans softly as he hardens his strokes. His eyes don’t move from my core as he pumps twice more.

Then he’s back, gathering me close, his cock continuing to jerk against me as his movements slow.

He claims my lips in a bruising kiss, and I sink into it.

Long minutes later, when our breathing has evened out, I trace his jaw with the tips of my fingers. “Caleb?”

He twists my wrist to press a kiss on my fingers, making me smile. “Myers?”

“The next time we do this, I don’t want a condom, and I want you inside me when you come.”

I’m a people pleaser, a go-along-with-everyone-else sort of person. Always and forever, I thought. But I can’t say there isn’t something incredibly liberating about just saying what I want.

From Caleb’s heated stare, pounding heartbeat, and his cock stirring against my belly, he has no complaints.

“Caleb?” I prompt when he doesn’t respond

“Shh,” he silences me with a kiss. “Give me a second to recover, Myers. This mouth of yours is going to be the death of me.”

“Because of the things I say or do?” I ask innocently.

He groans, and I laugh.

We hold each other for the next several minutes, and I sigh when he moves. “Caleb?” I squeak when he picks me up. “You’re hurt. Put me down.”

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