Page 81 of Knocked Up by My Fake Fiancé
That's when I give in. I kiss him back—hard and rough, teeth clashing, tongues battling for dominance.
I grab his hair, sucking on his tongue as he lifts me effortlessly into the air. His hardness presses between my thighs. Waves of lust crash through me, drowning out every other thought.
He shifts, sits, and pulls me down onto his lap. My fingers fumble with his belt, unbuttoning, unzipping, freeing him. I push my panties aside, trembling with need, already slick with heat.
"Fuck yes," he groans, lips swollen, eyes half-lidded as he watches me.
"I want you," I gasp, breathless.
"I'm right here, baby. Take me."
Our groans melt together as I align him at my entrance and sink down slowly, letting him fill me completely, utterly.
"God, yes…" I breathe, clutching his shoulders, meeting his gaze.
"You're mine, Grayson Wolfe," I whisper between frantic kisses. "No one else's. For the duration of this contract, you're a reflection of me.You are mine."
CHAPTER 24
Grayson
Iwatch her as she rides me with abandon, eyes wide open, drinking in every moment, every movement, every sound.
I think I might be losing my mind.
She's a succubus—sent to Earth to ravish me, to devastate me—and she's so caught up in her own passion she probably barely knows I'm even here. Her words make it clear that, right now, my pleasure is secondary to hers. I'm just an instrument for her satisfaction.
I won't lie. I like being used.
Her eyes roll back, her body flushes and trembles. The sound of her wet heat taking me in is music to my ears. She shudders and moans, rides me harder—then harder still.
God, she's going to kill me.
Her total ownership of me is obvious. It's in her hand wrapped tight around my throat, in the grip of her thighs at my waist, in the way she rides me—aggressive, relentless—her insides clutching and pulling at my cock, taking me, claiming me, hungry for my seed.
I want to give myself to her. I want to give her everything.
I pull her head down so I can look into her eyes while she comes. She's close; I can see it. Her lips are bitten raw, her movements frantic, her thighs locked around me.
I match her rhythm, lifting and driving in perfect time, wanting to help her get there.
I am hers.
I tear open her shirt and push up her bra cup, groaning at the sight of her beautiful, firm breasts rising and falling against her chest. Her areolas are pink and flushed, her nipples stiff as diamonds. I lean in, kiss them, take one into my mouth, nip until she lets out a desperate little sound.
"Grayson."
Hearing her cry my name gives me a rush like nothing else. It surges through me, makes me grip her waist and slam her down harder on my cock.
"Oh my God." Her body tightens, her head falls back. "Oh my God."
"Come for me," I rasp, reaching between us to circle her clit.
She tenses—and then she explodes. Her body bucks and arches, thighs crushing me in a vise I couldn't escape even if I wanted to.
I watch her through it, murmuring against her neck, inhaling the scent of her climax, tasting her in the air and in the salty sheen that beads across her breasts.
I'm still inside her, still hard, needing that release that only she can give me.
