Page 63 of Dr. Billionaire's Fake Marriage

I need no other encouragement as I pull down my pants and kick them off. I position myself on top of her, staring at her lovely face. Goddammit, she is breathtaking!

"Camille, look at me. I want you to look at me as I take you." My voice is thick, laced with urgency and need. Camille blinks her eyes open. Her crystal blue eyes illuminate her desires.

I glide my way into her smoothness, my eyes boring into her. She lifts her hips upward to allow me in, filling her up. We sway in a synchronized rhythm, our bodies moving together perfectly.

Unsatisfied with the position, I sit, placing her on top of me. She hooks her arms around my neck, my hands on her waist guiding her as she swings her waist up and down.

I shut my eyes as she grinds down on me, and I feel my pleasure rupture in my body, the realm of pure ecstasy enveloping us.

****

"It's over, right?" Camile drops the big word when we cuddle on the bed. "This is the part where we have to say goodbye and return to being strangers, right?"

"Does it have to be over?" I respond. I can feel Camile's heart beat faster. She pulls herself away from my grip, her big eyes, and asks,what do you mean by that?

I exhale. "I don't want this to be over," I say. "You and I know I am crazy about you, Camile."

I hold Camile's face; what I see is not the face of a woman who is crazy about me.

It is the look of someone who fears something, perhaps someone. "What do you fear, Camile?" I ask. "Tell me, who do you fear?"

“Your mother,” Camile affirms. “My father said your mother is ruthless.” She continues, “He said I shouldn’t mess with your family.”

I shake my head. “I am here to protect you, Camile,” I promise. “Mother won’t get to us.”

Camile doesn’t believe me. She still thinks my mother will somehow get to her, and even though she lets me hold her, her racing heartbeat tells me she still has that distinct fear.

****

It is Saturday morning. Henry is here to take me to his golf club today. He says we are two married brothers who must take some time off from their wives.

I oblige to Henry's consistent plea and hope Camile finds Amelia for some girlie gossip until we return.

Camile looks tired; I am sure it didn't come from last night. The look in her eyes is the one I saw last night. Last night it was fear; but today, I clearly see that it is weariness.

Camile is weary about someone, and I dearly hope she is not weary of me. I kiss her goodbye as I go with Henry to his field.

“Do you want to get out of your house so badly?” I ask him. “Is that how badly you can’t stand Amelia?”

Henry glances at me from the wheel. "You must think I am some kind of monster to Amelia."

“You cheated on her,” I reply. “You cheat on her,” I rephrase it. “Camile and I saw you at the hotel with that lady — Justine, or what is her name?”

"Julia," Henry corrects me; he has his hands on the car wheel as he asks me if Camile told Amelia about his escapade.

“I don’t know,” I shrug. “You know those two are like sisters, and my best guess is that she told Amelia.”

Henry rubs his eyes. "Are you okay?" I ask. "Look, I told Camile that Amelia knows you are cheating on her with Julia. I am sure she understands."

Henry packs hurriedly. He seems to be losing his patience as he hears me speak.

He angrily punches the wheel, and the horn goes off. "That's why Amelia keeps giving me attitude at the house," he says. "I need to go back home."

"What!" I reply. "You made me leave Camile in the house just for you to decide we aren't going to the golf club anymore?"

Henry punches the wheel again. “Yes,” he says. “I have to make things right with her. Julia took me by surprise.”

“What do you mean by that?” I raise my brows at him. “Henry never makes things right with a woman unless she is important.”

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