Page 150 of Play Fake
“Yeah, just like that,” I murmur, voice rough with need. “Don’t be shy. I want to see you fall apart for me. Keep your eyes on me, Sophie. I want you to watch what you do to me too.”
She bites her lip, her gaze flickering up, and I see the trust there, raw and open. I slow my hand, matching her rhythm, making sure she can see every stroke. “You know what I was thinking in there?” I ask, eyes never leaving hers. “I was thinking about how you would taste. The way your hips would roll up to meet my mouth. How you would sound when you beg for me to make you come.”
She whimpers, her head rolling back, but I reach out and touch her knee, gently grounding her. “Eyes on me, pretty girl,” I whisper, voice low and commanding. “I want to see you when you come for me.”
Her lashes flutter open, pupils blown wide. “Beck…” My name is a breathless plea, her voice trembling with want.
“Don’t look away. Let me see all of you. That’s it,” I coax, stroking myself harder, letting her see the way her pleasure undoes me. “You’re fucking perfect. And you’re mine. No one else gets to see you like this. Just me. You’re so goddamn beautiful when you let go.”
Her hips start to stutter, her breath catching as she moves her fingers faster, eyes never leaving mine. The need between us is fever-hot, the tension coiling and ready to snap.
“You’re so close, aren’t you?” I murmur, leaning forward, my own release building with every sound she makes. “That’s it, Sophie. I want you to fall apart for me. Right here—let me see you lose it. Let me see you come.”
Her hand falters for a moment, the intensity almost too much, but she keeps her gaze locked on mine, her body tensing. I match her, stroking myself with purpose, letting her see every detail—every way she undoes me.
“I can’t—I—” Her words dissolve into a gasp, her thighs trembling.
“Yes, you can,” I say, voice rough, every muscle drawn tight. “Come for me, Sophie. Look into my eyes and let go.”
She shatters—her back arching, mouth falling open, eyes wide and shining with pleasure. She cries out my name, voice broken and honest, and the sight of her completely undone drags me over the edge. My release rips through me, pleasure sharp and overwhelming, and I can’t look away from her, the way she’s coming apart just for me.
For a long moment, we’re both panting in the aftermath, the room heavy with the scent of sex and the electricity of what just happened. I wipe a trembling hand across my mouth, chest still heaving, every nerve in my body on fire. She’s sprawled across the bed, utterly spent, hair wild and cheeks glowing.
I reach for her, drawing her close, not caring about the mess or the sweat or the way our bodies are still shaking. I press a kiss to her forehead, breathing her in, heart pounding with something that’s not just lust but so much more.
“Jesus, Sophie,” I whisper, voice hoarse. “You wreck me.”
She gives me a shaky laugh, curling into my side, her hand finding my chest. “You make it so easy.”
I brush a strand of damp hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. “Next time,” I murmur, “I’m not letting you finish yourself.”
She shivers at that, leaning in for a lazy, lingering kiss. “Next time, I might not let you shower alone.”
We lay there for a while, bodies tangled, the world hushed around us, every barrier lowered. I press kisses to her hair, her shoulder, anywhere I can reach, and she sighs in contentment, fitting herself perfectly against me.
“Still embarrassed?” I tease gently, tracing lazy circles over her hip.
She shakes her head, smiling against my skin. “Not even a little.”
“Good,” I say, voice thick with affection and promise. “I never want you to hide from me. Not ever.”
For a long moment, we just breathe together, tangled in the afterglow, letting the room settle around us. I press a slow kiss to her forehead, still reeling from how completely she lets me in.
Sophie traces lazy patterns on my chest, her legs draped over mine, a soft smile playing at her lips. After a few quiet moments, she tilts her head up to meet my gaze, her eyes still shining with mischief and something deeper.
“So,” she says, voice teasing and a little breathless, “about that shower…”
A grin finds me before I can stop it. “Yeah?”
She pushes herself up on her elbow, hair wild around her face, and leans in for a kiss—this one sweet, lingering, full of promise. “I think you owe me one. But this time, I’m not letting you go in there alone.”
I laugh, the sound vibrating through both of us. “Good. Because I don’t think I could keep my hands off you, even if I tried.”
We stumble into the bathroom together, laughter and anticipation buzzing between us. The shower’s still steamy, the tiles warm beneath our feet. I turn the water back on, adjusting the temperature as Sophie steps out of her dress, letting it slip tothe floor, anything that was under it gone before I came back out of the bathroom earlier.
She stands before me, flushed and beautiful, waiting. I reach for her, drawing her under the spray, and she sighs as the hot water slicks over her skin.
She closes her eyes, a look of pure pleasure on her face as I massage her scalp, working in the shampoo, letting the suds slide down her neck and shoulders. “Feels amazing,” she murmurs, swaying into my touch.
