Page 12 of Fake Maid

I nudge his knee with mine. “You’re kind of weird.”

He steps closer, flattening me against the bookshelves. His palms skate up the sides of my waist—cupping and squeezing on one side, and the steady slide of his cast on the other.

“Not weird. Just infatuated.”

“Already?” I rasp. “You’ve only known me one day.”

He frowns down at me, and I could kick myself. Of course he’s known Coral for more than a day, and I’ve blown it, screwed this up, but then he shakes his head.

“It doesn’t matter. I knew the second I saw you.”

“Knew what?” I gasp. His thumb skates over my nipple, and I arch my back, pressing harder into his hand.

Eli hums and sniffs the crown of my head.

“That I had to have you,” he says simply. My head is swimming from his touch, from his words, from his manly scent—like ocean air and pine needles. Maybe that’s why I do it: lose all my good sense. Push away from the bookshelves, nudge him back, and drop to my knees.

“Fuck. Look at you.” Eli crowds back immediately, cradling my cheek in his hand. “Do you want to suck my cock, darling?”

I nod, reaching up with greedy hands. My bruised fingers are clumsy inside the cast, and I curse as I fumble with the button of his jeans.

“Let me help—”

I smack his hand away, rock forward, and tug it open with my teeth.

“Yes,” Eli hisses in approval as I draw his cock free. It’s thick and so hard it must surely be painful, yet the skin is soft and warm under my grip. I give an experimental tug, toes curling beneath me when he groans.

“Say please.” I smirk up at him, and he grins back, eyes feral and dancing. This man is a loose cannon, wild and unpredictable, but I want nothing more than to push him to the edge.

“Please,” he grits out through clenched teeth. “Fuck. Coral. Suck me, baby.”

“Miss Walsh.”I squeeze him once, hard, in warning, and he rocks into my grip. But when I glare up at him, he nods and pets my hair.

“Miss Walsh. Suck me down, darling.”

I’m more than happy to obey.

I settle back on my heels and regard the monster in front of me. It’s bigger than I realized back in the pool house, and it made my breath catch then. But it’s not the length that makes my pussy clench—it’s the breadth. When I wrap my hand around him, my fingers and thumb don’t meet.

My first lick is catlike. Teasing, just like him. I taste the salty bead of fluid gathered at the tip, moaning and gazing up at him with wide eyes.

He curses and thrusts his hips, his cock sliding through my grip.

“So impatient,” I murmur.

Eli narrows his eyes.

That’s all the warning I get before he grips my chin and pulls it open, pushing his cock into my mouth. A thrill shudders through me at being used like this—having my mouth invaded for his pleasure. It’s like everything else in the world fades away except for the heavy weight of him on my tongue; the stretch of my lips; the slurping noises that I’d never thought I’d make.

But I make them, and much more, moaning greedily and whimpering, swirling my tongue over his cock as he cradles my head in place and thrusts so deep he hits the back of my throat.

“Fuck. Yeah. Do you like that, baby?”

I moan louder, nodding and squirming on the floor. I wedge one heel under my pussy, grinding down on it and rubbing my clit until the pressure starts to build.

Eli stares down at me, eyes glassy, then they suddenly widen. His expression heats, and he fucks my face harder.

“I can see what you’re doing, baby. Getting yourself off. Humping your own foot because you’re so needy to come.”

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