Fake Marriage (Contemporary Romance Box Set)

“It’s beautiful. It makes me so fucking hard.” I kissed her hard. “Ride me, Katrina.”

Her arms were around my neck as she lowered down over me. Our sighs and gasps as I filled her sounded through the night. Here, under the stars, she was mine and I was hers. Our being together was as real and natural as the flowing river and waving grass around us.

16

Trina

Sometimes I wondered how I missed how sweet and romantic Ryder was. Probably because I was too busy resenting him for embarrassing me. But as I took him inside me under the

large bright moon and twinkling stars, I couldn’t remember ever feeling so close or so emotionally attached to someone. I pushed away the niggle of worry that I was not the first, nor would I be the last woman that he brought out here. I knew this wasn’t forever. I didn’t need to worry about the future all the time, did I? I could be in the moment and savor this experience with Ryder.

He kissed me, and I gently rocked, loving how his dick pulsed inside me. He broke the kiss and lavished time on my breasts with his mouth. Each suck on my nipple sent erotic sensations straight down to my pussy, which clenched him tighter and tighter until nature forced me to give in and give my desire what it needed. I started to ride him, at first slowly, savoring the feel of every ridge of his dick as I slid over him. But soon, need coiled tight in my pussy, and I was riding him fast and hard.

“God yes,” he gasped, reclining back on the pillows. He gripped my hips and moved with me, his hips lifting each time I came down over him.

My head dropped back as I reached for bliss.

“So fucking beautiful,” he said.

I’d never thought I was ugly, but I was no raving beauty either. Except with Ryder. He called me a goddess. He said I was beautiful. And he did it in a way that made me believe him. It was amazing how powerful and sexy that made me feel.

His thumb pressed between my thighs, rubbing over my clit.

“Oh God, Ryder,” I cried out as his touch sent a firestorm through me. I was so close to the edge. I needed to come so bad and at the same time, I wanted to stay like this longer. Maybe even forever.

“Come, Katrina.” He growled. “Fuck, I need to come.”

When he spoke like that, my own arousal shot up, and the next time I slammed down on him, my body broke open, and pleasure flooded to every nerve ending.

“Ryder!” I bounced on him, drawing out the sweet sensations.

“Yes, fuck yes!” His hips drove up, and his warmth spread inside me. Together we moved in the most perfect harmony until my thighs burned too much to keep going and I collapsed on him. His arms wrapped around me, and he kissed me with such raw emotion, it nearly brought tears to my eyes.

There was a time I believed in true love. I’d also believed in Santa Clause and unicorns. I knew that none of that truly existed in the real world. But in that moment, I desperately wished true love existed, and that I could have it with Ryder.

Later that night, when we arrived home, he took me to his bed and made love to me again. At least that’s what it felt like. Sated and happy, I settled against him as we fell asleep. I remembered back in high school, when I still believed in fairy tales, wishing for something like this with him. Ryder had been the epitome of coolness. He’d been popular, athletic and in a band. But he hadn’t been a cocky asshole. Until the incident with my poems, I’d thought he was perfect. Now, laying in his arms, all those teenage fantasies and feelings flooded back. It was silly, but in the darkness of night, I savored them. I allowed myself to enjoy this moment. When this bet was over, I’d be back to my usual, safe life. I’d be happy to be there because I knew it well, and I liked stability and a sameness in life. But I couldn’t deny that this little trek off the beaten bath with him was enjoyable.

But like all good things in life, it was going to come to an end. Most relationships did, I reminded myself. Only a handful of people ever made it the distance, like Sinclair and Wyatt. Sinclair and Ryder’s parents seemed to have a good relationship too. But most people I knew had short term relationships, and most of the long-term ones fizzled out, often because they were too different. That was me and Ryder. After a week, I’d gone from despising Ryder to sleeping in his bed. It was right up there with pigs flying and hell freezing over, and yet there I was.

We were a spectrum apart when it came to temperament and how we viewed life. I’d enjoy this little detour in my life while I could, but then I’d move on with sweet memories.

The next day, I was alone at my desk in the outer section of the mayor’s office. He was in his office with Brooke, of course. Sinclair was down in her office. I was going over vendor contracts for the upcoming Heritage Festival.

I heard the opening of the door from the hallway. Looking up, I saw Simon Stark walk in. I frowned. He didn’t have an appointment. And he wasn’t welcome, as far as I was concerned.

I plastered on a pleasant expression because that was my job. “Can I help you?”

Mr. Stark smiled in that way rich people did to act friendly even though they expected the world to bend at their whims. “I’m here to see the mayor.”

“And you are?” Yes, it was snarky, but men like Stark could use a bit of push back. It wasn’t right that they went through the world thinking they owned the place and everyone knew it.

His jaw clenched slightly, but he held onto the smile. “Simon Stark.”

I looked at the schedule I had for the mayor, even though I already knew he wasn’t on it. I lifted my gaze back to him, with my own fake smile. “I’m sorry. I don’t see you, Mr. Stark.”

“I was on the phone with him just over an hour ago. He is expecting me.”

I tried to keep my smile, even as my insides started to boil. Had the mayor really made an appointment and not told me? Or more likely his new infatuation had.