Page 15 of Pretend I'm Yours
I almost lose my footing when he backs me toward his king-sized bed draped with a family heirloom quilt in the middle of the room on the left wall, his hands all over me, lips locked with mine once more.
“Declan,” I moan when he yanks at the knot on my T-shirt, pulling my top off over my head with a whoosh of air. “Tell me you want me for more than just one night.”
“I’ve wanted you every single night for the last two years,” he says, planting a hard kiss on my lips. “That part isn’t pretend. I couldn’t wait to move in with you, even though I knew itwould be the hardest thing I’ve ever done, keeping my hands to myself.”
My stomach flutters with his confession. My crush—obsession—isn’t one-sided.
He cradles my face, a storm swirling behind his sunflower eyes when he says, “My back doesn’t hurt nearly as often as I tell you it does. It was just an excuse to touch you when my resolve was weak. I can’t tell you how many times I came in my shorts after I finally worked my way into lying on top of you for my massages. And then I’d stroke myself all night, every night, thinking of you in your bedroom when I wanted you in here with me.”
I dig my fingernails into his sides with a surge of hurt. “Then why were you dating other women?”
He drops his forehead to mine. “You’re my niece. I was trying to forget you because we can’t be together. But it didn’t work. I couldn’t so much as hug another woman. All I could think about was coming home to you.”
Even though it’s what I want to hear, there’s still one part I can’t get over. “If you still think it’s wrong for us to be together, then I don’t want to be with you. Not like this.”
His lips brush mine when he says, “There’s nothing wrong about being with my wife.”
My wife, my wife. It rings in my ears when I relax my fingers, our tongues meeting after he rips off my bra.
“I can’t get enough of these,” he says, palming my breasts, his voice and touch tender.
My hair tickles my skin when I arch and tip my head back with a moan after he bends to take one nipple in his mouth without hesitation. I’ve wanted this for so long, resorting to pinching my nipples in the lonesome dark of my bedroom while I thought of what it would feel like to have his hot mouth on me.
He’s panting as he switches sides, my fingers tangled in his hair. “Your milk is so warm and sweet,” he says with a satisfied sigh, as if he’s truly able to drink from me. “I love when it’s finally my turn to taste you after the kids go to bed.”
I almost blurt out“What?!”because he’s taken the fantasy to another level, introducing some kind of kink I never knew existed—one that makes my core clench and my nipples prickle with desire. Would Uncle Kason be into it, too, if he were here? Would I have one man on each side, tugging on my nipples, drinking me down?
I squeal when Uncle Declan grabs my waist and throws me onto his bed. If his back twinges from the sudden movement…well, so be it. It’ll give me the perfect excuse to massage him again, naked this time, starving for the feel of him after these long, miserable months.
“Need you, sugar,” he says, fumbling with his belt.
I sit up, my legs dangling over the edge of the mattress with my knees spread to fit his strong thighs. Staring directly up at him, I bat his hands away to work on unfastening his belt and the zipper of his starched jeans. It’s here that I lose some of my nerve, my hands shaking since I’ve never done this before.
“Go on, Corinne. Take me out,” he urges while cupping my jaw, dragging his thumb across my bottom lip.Take me out—his cock, he means.
I let out a slight whimper, finally reaching into his boxers and grazing his warm, veiny shaft with the tips of my fingers.
Chapter 5
Declan
Now that I’ve started, I can’t stop, no matter that I begged Corinne to make me. I shove my jeans down and curl my hand around hers, showing my niece how to grip and stroke my thick shaft. Instead of her inexperience shattering the fantasy, I lean even further into it.
“You know I love it when my wife pretends it’s the first time she’s sucked my cock,” I say. “So sweet and innocent.”
I buck my hips, the head of my cock inches away from her shy, upturned face. This is exactly how I pictured her, her skin flushed and rosy, topless for me, andmineall those times I came with my dick in my hand. Her innocence truly isn’t an act at all, and that makes it all the sexier, knowing I’ll be the first to claim her mouth when her lips part, waiting for me to take the next step.
I guide her hand faster, cupping her palm over my tip to spread my precum. “That’s it. Open wider and stick out your tongue. Such a good girl,” I say, sliding my crown along her hot tongue. I shiver and push deeper. “Such a good wife.”
She makes that sexy whimpering sound again, her large tits rising and falling when she takes a deep breath after I withdraw before I go too far. Without question, I’m wholly caught up, somuch so that this no longerfeelslike acting out a fantasy. Our children really are sleeping down the hall, and I’m desperate for this sacred alone time with my wife, her lower belly begging to fill out once more with our next child.
I pull out suddenly so I don’t embarrass myself by cumming down her throat so quickly at the mental image of her pregnant with my child, and I bend over to catch my breath.
“Un—?” She catches herself and bites her lower lip, her brows pinched in the middle with concern that I’ve regained control and am finally ending things. But it doesn’t matter what she calls me. Not anymore. Because our former relationship is as much a fantasy as anything else, not rooted in blood or legalities.
I kiss her softly, tasting myself on her and fucking loving it. After I tug her boots and cute polka dot socks off her feet, I work on her skirt and tiny thong, then tell her, “Lie down in the middle of the bed, sugar. Get comfy.”
She nods fast, scooting back and swinging those delicious thighs of hers onto the mattress. I hurry to finish undressing, kicking my boots halfway across the room, then circle the end of the bed, climbing on and crawling to her, my dick hard and pointed home where it belongs.
