His Fake Fiancee: BBW Romance (Fake it For Me)

He blinks and it’s gone, but I will never forget it. A small smile teases his lips. Slowly, his lips graze my cheek then down to my lips. Soft, gentle, I swear this man is the most amazing kisser in the entire world. His velvet tongue, teasing, tasting, owning all of me. My hands go into his hair to hold him tight.

I moan as he ends the kiss.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers against my lips.

“For what?” I give in to the need and run my fingers along his cheek, the freedom to touch him intoxicating me a little. Marveling at the sensation of his skin beneath mine, I can’t stop touching him.

“I tried not to lose control. I know I’m large and it’s painful—”

The laughter comes out of me before I can stop it. He’s done it again. That careful control of his, broken, that perfect, cultured diction gone, for me, about me. He starts to pull away in confusion, I hold him tight, shaking my head. “You don’t have anything to apologize for. That was the most amazing...I’ve never—for a minute I thought you were hinting for a compliment or something.”

Before I can stop him, he moves off me. My body doesn’t want to let him go, I’m empty aching the moment he’s gone. Ivan is pale. Frowning, he shakes his head. “Never what? You weren’t a virgin, were you? You were incredibly tight, but that doesn’t make any sense. You’re thirty. You were engaged.”

Seriously, I’m blushing after everything? I shake my head as Ivan looks like he wants to run. “No, I wasn’t a virgin. We had sex, it just wasn’t good sex. He’s the only guy I’d ever been with. I’ve never...you know.”

“You never had an orgasm? With him, or ever?” His color is back, thank goodness, but he’s still frowning.

“With him, never. I um, did by myself a couple of times. They just didn’t feel anything like what just happened.”

A hand runs through his hair, and he nods. Then rolls off the bed. I watch helplessly as he goes into the bathroom. I’m confused. Is he mad? Is this it? My phone goes off with a text, it’s Anna wondering where I was for lunch. Crap, I hadn’t let her know about going with Ivan.

Holy crap, it’s been more than an hour since we left the restaurant. An hour? It didn’t feel like it. I text her back I had a work thing with Ivan and I have to go, talk later. I never hear him come out of the bathroom. All I know is he’s pulling my phone out of my hand and tossing it on the floor. He picks me up and puts me back on the bed.

I blush until I think I’m going to pass out when he takes a warm, wet washcloth and cleans me between my legs. “Are you okay? Are you sore?”

Shaking my head, I can’t look at him. A chuckle rumbles out of him. “I love the way your blush goes all the way to your breasts. I did not savor them half as much as I wanted to.”

His phone goes off, it’s not a ringtone I’ve heard before. He frowns then smiles. “Perfect timing.”

He answers and says to send the person up.

“Someone is coming up?”

“Just a delivery. Stay, don’t move,” he orders as he goes into another room. That is one big-ass closet, it’s almost the size of his massive bedroom. He tugs on a pair of sweatpants without any underwear or a shirt. Oh goody, I hope this means we aren’t done. The minute he leaves the room, I make a beeline for the bathroom. As much as I appreciate his efforts, I’m still a mess.

I make it back to the bed and take a moment to look around. Hm, it’s kind of boring. Everything is white: white carpet, two white chairs in a seating area with a white ottoman used as a coffee table. There are white wooden bedside tables with white lamps on top. Even the interesting light fixtures hanging from the ceiling are white canvas around bare bulbs. I look up to see Ivan is back. He’s carrying a small box.

“What is it?”

“Your ring. It came from New York, they flew it out. Right on time like they promised.”

I’m stunned, he got my ring from New York? Why couldn’t he have gotten it here in—oh my god.

“It’s beautiful, Ivan.” I melt a little. It’s the most beautiful ring I have ever seen. I fell in love with art deco rings after seeing one ages ago. The center is set into the ring, not above it. A vibrant emerald is a massive round in the center of a square setting, appearing to be held in place by diamond prongs at four corners, then more emeralds are inlaid around it.

What in the hell? It’s the ring I pinned on a board ages ago. It isn’t actually vintage, it was done by a jewelry maker who specialized in a variety of different vintage styles. That means it’s an eight-carat emerald with another carat’s worth of emeralds surrounding it and almost a carat worth of diamonds and it’s worth over a hundred thousand dollars. “How the hell did you know?”

He shrugs with a smile. “You do not really want to know. All that matters is you have the ring you always wanted. And you get to keep it when...” Another shrug, he takes it from me, uncurls my hand then slides it on my left ring finger. We are both surprised when it fits, a tad snug but not enough for me to want to change it. “I wanted you to have it.”

I blink fast—don’t cry and screw this up. “Thank you. I love it.”

“How much do you love it?” Ivan asks with heat in his eyes as he walks me back to bed, pushing down his sweats as he does.

“I love it this much,” I whisper as I reach out and grasp him by his thickenin

g cock and stroke him. I’ve been dying to do this since I saw it. Ah, it feels just as good as I thought it would, hard as steel, yet softer than the most expensive silk.

A strong hand goes into my hair, pushing me down to knees. “You like my cock?”