Page 165 of The Holiday Fakers
I cry out, his words the tipping point for my release.
His hips jerk up. “You’re gonna let me fuck you hard?”
“Brody!” I wail as my pussy spasms around the girth of his cock and he thrusts deeper.
I cling to him for dear life as the climax burns through me, scorching every cell, then tug him down onto the bed. I need to keep him inside me. I don’t want him to take off his pants. I don’t want to lose this connection.
As my back hits the mattress, he braces himself above me, withdraws an inch, then slams his hips forward.
“Yes! More!” I cry, not wanting him to stop and check in with me, because right now, being railed by him is the only thing in the world I want and need.
He pulls back, then snaps his hips forward, thrusting deep inside me.
“You want this? You want my cock?”
“Oh my God, yes!”
He pumps faster, harder.
“Touch yourself. I need you to come for me one more time, Piper. You can do it.”
I don’t know if I can, but as one hand moves to my left breast and the other to my clit, I know this is going to end exactly as I promised—with me screaming his name and shattering again.
The orgasm crashes over me so fast I barely catch a breath before it’s there.
“Brodyyyy!” I scream, my voice raw as he pounds me into the mattress.
He’s roaring my name back, and nothing has ever felt so right.
Then he collapses on top of me, and I hold him with every ounce of strength I have left. Because he’s mine, I’m his, and this is our forever.
CHAPTER 30
BRODY
“Shubrum, mub dum.”
I press my lips together so a laugh doesn’t escape and wake Piper. She’s sprawled in the middle of the bed, an arm slung over my chest and a leg tucked over one of mine.
“Brum mubdub, hummm.”
My cheeks ache from smiling, and my chest feels full of pink cotton candy. I’ve never known happiness like this—bone-deep contentment and excitement that gives me goosebumps.
She’s coming to New Zealand with me. We’re doing this together.
I’d talked myself out of the job and made peace with the decision to turn it down. But now it’s actually happening, all thanks to my girl, I know I’m the luckiest guy alive. Piper’s right: it’s the role of a lifetime, and I’m the fortunate bastard who gets to make it his own.
And this beautiful woman is going to be by my side, today, tomorrow, and forever if I play my cards right.
“Crosshatch shading!” Piper says with the clarity and diction of a British art teacher who can’t wait to leave the classroom behind.
I can’t stop the snort that escapes.
Piper shuffles in bed, then stills, her breathing stopping.
“You awake?” I ask.
“Did I just shout something about drawing?” she mumbles.
