Page 42 of Faking It with my Bestie's Billionaire Brother

"You want me to tell you what to do? It's not going to be like how I pinned you to the bed, my sweet Ava," he said. "I want you to slide me inside of you, and I want you to ride me. Show me how bad you really want it." His hands cupping my jaw, he forced me to look him in the eye.

Of course, I was never one to back down from a challenge, and this one sounded like a delicious one, so I positioned the head of his cock at my entrance and then sank myself down.

We both groaned out loud at the feeling of being connected again. Even though it had only been hours since the last time, somehow, it had felt like forever.

"Ride me," he commanded, the fierceness in his eyes pulling at something troubling inside me that I refused to think about at that moment.

I started moving my hips gently at first, but I was quickly taken away with the tide of my own desire. Then, I was moving frantically, needing him as deep inside me as I could get him. His hands were at my hips, encouraging me as I bobbed up and down on his dick. I leaned my forehead against his and stole kisses when I could gather my wits about me.

"That's it, baby girl, ride my cock. I know how badly you want to," he growled against my mouth, and his words just made me clinch that much tighter around him. It was almost embarrassing how quickly I was going to come, but I couldn't seem to stop it. And I knew he didn't want me to slow down by the way he ground his teeth and encouraged me to go faster and harder.

"Spencer," I moaned out as my orgasm started creeping up on me. Then, I cried as it crashed down on me all at once. As I was falling apart in his arms, with my hips still moving erratically, he clutched me to his body, his hands clutching at my ass and riding out the waves of his own orgasm as he surged upward again and again.

We lay in each other's arms for long moments afterward that turned into a sleepy daze. It was as if we were both holding on to this need, this desire for so long that once it was achieved, we needed an immediate respite.

Or maybe it was guilt-induced narcolepsy.

It began a routine over the next several days. There wasn't a discussion about if we should stop. Mostly, we just talked about what our schedules were like so we could get to one another more quickly.

Spencer was demanding and controlling in the bedroom, and I loved every bit of it, so much so that I could almost bury the guilt and the worry for what I was doing behind my best friend's back.

Almost...

***

Over the next few nights, I would barely see the inside of what was supposed to be my room, other than to get changes of clothes. I spent most nights in Spencer's arms, falling asleep exhausted—too exhausted to talk about the elephant in the room and too satisfied to care.

Somehow, each night when I was back at Spencer's place and in his arms, I could fool myself into thinking that us hooking up wasn't that big of a deal. It was just a little romp he and I were taking part in, and it didn't have to hurt anybody else.

But the guilt always came back, especially when I saw Penny. I couldn't help but feel like she was on to me. She kept asking me if I was okay and if I was comfortable with this whole situation with Spencer. What made it worse was that she showed real concern for my well-being, and here I was, betraying her.

It was eating me up inside, along with the nerves I was starting to get around Spencer. What he and I had together was much deeper than just sexual attraction, but I wondered if I was turning into one of those women who just confused the signals.

I always thought I would be smarter than that, but it was so easy to get wrapped up in the whole situation when he was calling me a good girl and telling me how badly he wanted me and that he couldn't quit thinking about me all day.

One night, despite the way he had left me sated, I kept tossing and turning. I didn't like the curious feelings that were blooming in my chest just from watching him sleep. Whether I wanted to admit it or not, I wasn't great at lying to anybody, not even myself, and I knew that I was in trouble here.

I couldn't really fool myself into thinking that he would ever see me as anything beyond Penny’s best friend and his current bed buddy. He was too loyal to his lifestyle and too shut down to consider a real relationship. He'd always made it clear since I'd known him that the only person who he really loved was his sister, and I'd been fine with that. He was fiercely protective over her and seemed to think he had good reason to be, and from some of the things I'd heard about their shared father, I could understand why he was particularly protective.

The details that Penny had shared about her father made him sound like a monster. I had just been grateful at the time that she hadn't really ever had to know that. Most of what she reported was what she heard from Spencer. She admitted that she didn't have any real memories of her dad.

Spencer seemed to be committed to his company, although at times, that seemed to be begrudgingly. He'd never pretended like he was open to more, so if I were to give into these feelings that I had about him, I was the fool, and I knew that.

Tired of tossing and turning and frustrated beyond all belief, I slipped from bed to go back to my assigned room. I tugged on an old T-shirt and my underwear and got out a new hunk of clay. I still had the piece I was working on, but it was at the fine detail stage, and I wasn't in a fine detail kind of mood right now. I needed to smash some clay together and start from scratch.

I didn't know how long I was in there. Time tended to get away from me when I was in the middle of one of these creative sessions, but I was inspired, not to mention conflicted, and the energy had to come out somehow.

Just for an extra little bit of guidance, I did get out of the other bust that I had started of Spencer. I definitely needed some more work done with the fine lines on the face, as it was still missing that quintessential Spencer-ness, as I liked to think of it in my head.

I beat up on my hunk of clay, molding the basic shape of a head, but I found that my desire to toss around clay was being diminished by the pull of the bust that was mostly done.

My fingers were itching for my carving tools, and I found myself pulling them out and stooping over the much more defined piece of clay, working studiously at chiseling the fine lines at Spencer's eyes and mouth. I worked on the same lines that I now knew could do more than just crinkle into a frown of disapproval, as they could also crinkle into the sweetest of smiles and hardiest of laughs.

I stopped for a long moment and studied that face that I had been looking into for the last several nights.

He was strangely giving, despite being so demanding when he was in the bedroom. But he seemed to understand that it was not only what I wanted but what I needed…what I craved. And I was craving it now more than ever. It was like he lifted the lid on Pandora's box. I couldn't quit thinking about him, wondering about him.

But it wasn't like I could ask Penny all these questions. She probably wouldn't think twice considering I was having to live with a guy, but I would know the truth behind them, and I already felt guilty enough.

---