Page 27 of The Pucking Fake Boyfriend

I close my eyes for a second, forcing my brain to think. I cannot let myself get wrapped up in the excitement of the situation, or the fact that I can feel my thighs getting even wetter as my fingers explore Alex’s length.

Remember the plan, Brit. Remember Dad, Theodore, and the life you hope to build for yourself.

Holding on to a particularly nasty image of Theodore to keep my foggy brain alert, I open my eyes and give him a smile that’s halfway between innocent and daring. “But you don’t want it enough to go all the way.”

It’s the right thing to do. Tease him enough so he stops trying to hold back and caves completely.

Alex lets out a groan. Gripping me by the waist, he spins me so my back is pressed against him. I’d been preparing to slide past him and out of the corner so I’d be seen, but somehow, I feel myself grow limp as he pushes himself against me.

I wish I could pretend the alcohol is dulling my movements. But it’s not. I’m growing limp with anticipation. Even if I care about my plan, I care a lot more about what he’s going to do next.

“You think?” he growls, lifting up my dress. I hear myself gasp in surprise. I’d expected him to kiss me again or something. Not this.

His hands, warm and hard, are pressed against my naked bum. “You have no idea.”

No one can see us, not in this corner, but it doesn’t dull the sheer excitement I feel at being felt up like this in public.

Remember the plan, I scream at myself. A picture of my naked butt is not what I’m after. I am going for risqué, but a kiss would be more than enough to sway the Furmans. Soiling my reputation more than that is not necessary.

I should turn around and keep kissing him. Maybe I could angle the both of us toward a spot with better lighting. Alex is easily recognizable. No doubt someone would take a picture of us pretty soon, if someone hadn’t already captured our first kiss on camera.

That is the logical choice. Still, I cannot force my still-limp body to not to remain pliant under his touch.

“You do this intentionally, don’t you?” he whispers. “Bringing me here. Wearing nothing but this thong underneath this tiny dress. Knowing I’m not going to be able to stop myself from doing this.”

Why do his words make me tingle? Why am I even somewhat impressed about the fact that he’s figuring out—at least,in part—my plan? Why do I like the fact that he’s much smarter than I’ve given him credit for?

And how come I feel seen and understood by him?

His fingers are on my thong, yanking at it. The fabric gives way and completely rips into shreds.

Now naked underneath the dress, I let out another gasp. I certainly wasn’t expecting that.

He calls me out on that a second later. “Weren’t thinking I’d do that?” he mutters. “Tough luck. Now you get to feel how I feel.”

His hard, callused hand trails up my thigh. And then, without warning, he dips two of his fingers inside me.

I gasp and collapse against the wall.

“Good girl,” I hear him mutter, his free arm curving around my stomach, pulling me up against him instead of the wall. His arm goes higher, until he has his fingers loosely wrapped around my neck. He thrusts his fingers in and out of my pussy, moistening himself off my fluids to go deeper, harder.

“Alex,” I whisper, actual tears of pleasure in my eyes. I would never have imagined getting fingered in a club would make me feel this good, but right now, I never want to leave his arms ever again.

His fingers dip lower than my neck until he’s grazing one of my breasts. His thumb brushes roughly across my nipple as it beads. He holds it in two of his fingers, slightly pinching. The mingling of pleasure with pain makes my excitement wound up even higher, and I hear myself let out a gasp.

“Good,” he mutters. “I like making you pay.”

His words elicit another moan from me, and I convulse. My entire face is flaming.

I like him making me pay, too.

I spent two years exploring my sexuality away fromhome, and I was certain that I knew everything there was to know about my body and how men could please me.

I could never have imagined that I would like to submit to a man I absolutely hated.

And yet, I do. Enough to shiver at the thought of what he’s going to do next.

He wraps his hand around my neck again, and his fingers fuck me faster than ever. Tears dribble down my cheeks as I collapse against him.

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