Page 64 of Fake Fiancée for Dad's Best Friend
My God. I can’t take it anymore. This is not the first time we’re together, but he acts as if it is. That alone turns me on. “I have to come, Alex,” I say as I reach to touch my clit.
He grabs my hand right away. “No, sweetheart. You don’t get to do it when you’re with me.”
And then he put his thumb on my nub and rubs it gently.
“Harder, please,” I beg.
“I’ll get to that,” he says. “Just enjoy the ride.”
I whine with frustration, but there isn’t much I can do. He’s right. I have plenty of lonely nights ahead of me where I’ll have to rely on my own fingers. Tonight is our last night together, and I should just enjoy his touch, even though it can be torture. He brings me to the edge effortlessly, and then he aborts it and starts all over.
I don’t know how long it’s taking. I only know I’ll pass out if I don’t have his hard cock inside me soon.
“Please, Alex,” I nearly cry. “Are you punishing me? What for?”
“No, baby,” he says in a hoarse voice that betrays his desire for me. “I just love seeing you so wound up for me. I want to remember it. I’ll think of it whenever I’m alone in bed.”
I gasp. The thought that Alex will be thinking about me when he takes care of himself never crosses my mind. I’ve assumed he’ll find a different woman, a friend with benefit, one-night-stands, or…Trisha.
This possibility pains me as if I’m abandoning him.
“You could err, call me if you need me,” I say, not sure whether it’s a good idea.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. We can talk like what we did last time.”
Fuck.He groans again, and then I hear the rustling of clothes. I look over my shoulder and see him taking off his shirt.
When he gets rid of his pants, too, I almost faint at the sight of his very rigid manhood.
“See what you did to me?” he says as he strokes his cock. “You’re not the only one being tortured, baby.”
I’m so turned on I can’t breathe. I only stare at him and wait like a starved person at a delicious piece of candy.
But when he reaches for a condom in his wallet, I grab his wrist. “No. Not tonight, please. I want to feel you bareback.”
He sucks in a breath. “Are you sure?”
“I’m in the safe phase,” I say. I’m close to my next period.
“Okay,” he says. “But I’ll pull out.”
He kneels behind me on the bed, holds me by my hip, and then nudging his slick meat bat along my wet gash. I moan like a depraved woman.
“Ready? Here we go,” he says.
And then I cry as his slick, thick, and hard member fills me and soothes the overwhelming ache that’s built up in the evening.
Alex grunts with each thrust as if he, too, can’t control his desire any longer. Even so, he makes sure he hits me at the right places. “Are you okay, Vivi?”
“Yes, I’m good, don’t stop,” I say. Oops. That’s a mistake.
He slows down a bit. “I don’t want it to end so soon,” he says. “It feels too good.”
But his willpower doesn’t sustain. Soon he’s plunging like a fierce animal again, giving me long, quick, forceful thrusts and expels the air out of my lungs.
I grasp the bedsheet as a wave courses through my belly. I don’t announce it because I’m afraid he’ll hold back again. But Alex must feel it because he stills for a second. And then he growls. “Come with me, baby!”
