Page 85 of Fake Dating Mr. Prince
A grin stretched across his face, and he tossed his shirt aside. “Change your mind?”
Letting out a big sigh I nodded. My inhibitions were gone when it came to Dean.
“What do I do?” Glancing down at the least sexiest outfit ever. I frowned.
“Eyes up here, gorgeous.” Our eyes met. “What are you wearing under your shirt?”
I drew the neckline of my shirt to the side to reveal the bright red strap.
Dean was now laying back on the bed, watching me. “Satin or lace?”
“Lace.” Dean groaned. This was one of his favorite sets.
“I want to see it.”
I’d propped my phone up to leave my hands free. My fingers worked the buttons of my shirt until it was undone far enough that my breasts were visible and popping through the opening of my shirt.
His hand skated down his abs and out of sight from the camera.
My mouth went dry.
“This is what your body does to me, Ash.” He panned the camera lower.
His eye-popping erection filled the screen.
Thought escaped me and all I could do was watch him.
“Dean—” I moaned. The heat racing through my body had me questioning if my air conditioner was working. I yanked off my top, the remaining buttons scattering around my room.
He grabbed a bottle and started pouring the liquid over the top of his already hard cock. Now, I was struggling to remember how to breathe. His palm rubbed the tip and then skated down.
The video panned back up to his face taut with need.
Emboldened by his desire I stood and wiggled my hips, rolling them as I inched my pants down little by little.
“Yes.” Dean’s husky voice aided my confidence.
I shimmied out of my pants and turned to show him the backside of my underwear running my fingers under the edge to tease him.
“Are you wet?”
“Dripping wet.” I confided. “For you.”
“Fuck—” Arousal was evident in his tone. His hand glided up and down his cock. My core throbbed at the sight of him stroking himself. I wanted that hand on me instead.
Flicking the front clasp of my bra open, my breasts spilled out. Ripping my bra off I spun the strap around on my finger and tossed it across the room.
“You’re so hot, Ash.”
I placed a hand on each of my breasts and pushed them together, leaning in closer to the camera. With each action I took I became bolder and more turned on. My own arousal made it easier for me to perform for him.
I circled my hips against the cushioned seat, my underwear drenched.
My clit throbbed. My fingers slid down my stomach and pressed against the front of my underwear. I rubbed and moaned.
“Stop.” His command shocked me, and turned me on.
“I want to see your tits again.” His groan and whispered encouragement had me massaging them.
