Page 84 of In the Net
Sparks crackle in my chest as I line myself up with her. I run the tip of my swollen crown up the length of her entrance, feeling how wet she is, how ready for me she is.
Our eyes lock, and I tilt my hips, pushing into her.
Sheer intensity expands through my chest, pleasure wrapping around my spine. It feels so good inside her, I can’t believe it. Even through the condom, the feeling of her warmth and slickness coats my length, like the thin rubber isn’t even there.
I pull back and press forward again, deeper this time. Her walls pulse around me as I feel myself sliding deeper into her, the sensation making my skin prickle with sparks of bliss.
“Oh, fuck,” she moans, her voice a whimper.
She’s so damn tight, it’s going to take her a minute to get used to me. I strain myself not to angle back and thrust into her likeI want to. Instead, I lie over her and press my brow to hers, the intimacy of the moment overwhelming me.
She rolls her hips, signaling she wants more. Slowly, I draw back and then plunge forward, this time going all the way to the hilt.
A long, choppy exhale escapes Harper’s mouth, her voice thick with pleasure. The sound makes my lower abs clench, the muscles in my groin tighten into a sharp stab of bliss and thrill.
“That’s it,” I rasp, taken aback by how thick and clogged my own voice sounds. “You’re doing good, baby.”
Baby. That word just came out of nowhere. It sends a jolt of awareness through me, that this is starting to feel like a lot more than just blowing off steam that’s accumulated to an unhealthy degree, but the immediacy of the moment is too much for me to spend any more time thinking about it.
I thrust into her again, harder this time, and she takes me, wrapping her silky-smooth thighs around my hips and crossing her ankles behind the small of my back, pulling me closer and filling herself to the brim.
“Fuck, Harper, you take me so damn well,” I groan. “Even better than I knew you would.”
My pace quickens. As I rut into her, the most intense bliss I’ve ever known snakes through me, searing my body with white-hot heat, and the knot of pleasure at the base of my spine tightens to a sensation beyond what I thought possible.
Harper’s hips buck, meeting my downward thrusts. I can sense that she’s chasing another orgasm, her muscles rippling and pulling tight like I felt them do when my head was between her legs.
My orgasm explodes like a bomb. My eyes press tight as wave after wave of ecstasy blasts over me. My eyes roll behind my shut lids, my jaw clenches, and I feel myself spilling into the condom,the jet of release so thick and strong that it’s like the life is being squeezed out of me.
Beneath me, I feel Harper coming apart again, her own orgasm barreling through her. The satisfaction of getting her off twice in a row mingles with the pleasure of my release to make me feel lightheaded.
When it’s done, I collapse next to her, only having enough strength to drop the condom into the trash bin next to my bed. We both lay naked, chests heaving, utterly spent.
I find myself wishing that she would curl up next to me, fit her soft, warm body against my side, and spend the night here, in my bed.
But I know how risky that would be.
This release needed to happen. We were both puffed up with so much unfulfilled desire that we were about to burst.
But I know, for my part, this could be a risky game.
The danger to my heart would be real if I let myself fall any further for my fake girlfriend.
33
HARPER
Ihad sex with my fake boyfriend.
There hasn’t been a repeat of what happened in Sebastian’s room after we kissed at the ice rink. As if by unspoken agreement, we haven’t even talked about it.
But neither of us needs to say anything to know that there’s something very different about our fake relationship now.
We’re not even pretending that we still don’t like each other. We send each other messages all day long. He stops by my place to watch a movie or a couple episodes of a show that came up in one of our conversations. We still tease and throw verbal jabs at each other, but the routine feels a lot more like flirting than insulting these days.
It’s almost like we’re friends. Friends who had the most mind-blowing sex in world history one day and decided to just not talk about it afterward.
But it’s not a friendly feeling that I get every time I see Sebastian. That hum of arousal between my thighs doesn’t feel platonic at all. Neither does the way his hungry gaze openly rakes over my body every time we’re together.
