Fake Marriage (Contemporary Romance Box Set)

He frowned. “You’re going to think I’m an arrogant SOB, but I don’t think you can.”

He was right. He was one of a kind, in and out of bed.

“Just to make sure you can’t,” he said, as he maneuvered himself down, and settled his shoulders between my thighs. “I’m going to make you come, and come and come…all night long.”

My pussy clenched. Then his mouth was on me, making true his words because I came twice more just from his mouth.

“Oh God…Tucker…” I was breathless and nearly over sensitized.

He moved up my body, hooking my leg, with my heel still on, around his hip. “Look at m

e, Holly.”

I opened my eyes, and gasped at what I saw. It wasn’t just desire and need swirling in his deep brown eyes. There was a determination. A fire. Like this was important.

“You won’t be able to follow me up,” he said, and then he thrust. The shock of his hard dick fully immersed inside me, made me gasp.

“Tucker…”

He withdrew and held there, making me squirm and whimper with need for him to fill me again.

“Say it, Holly. Tell me I’m not replaceable.”

“You’re not.” I clung at his back and arched, begging him to give me his cock again.

He plunged in, ground against me, and then withdrew, withholding.

“Tucker…please…”

He kissed me and groaned, and I got the sense he was frustrated. But then he levered up on his hands and began to fuck me. Deep, hard, slow strokes that slowly increased.

“Yes, yes…” I chanted to make sure he wouldn’t stop.

“Say my name…say my name when you come…” His breath was labored, but I’d understood what he was saying.

He had me perched on the ledge and I wanted to come and yet at the same time wanted to hang a little longer in that sweet, torturous moment before the climax.

“Now, Holly…fuck I’m gonna come…”

And then I was there. He thrust in, and he sent me spiraling out into oblivion as my body flooded with the sweetest orgasm.

“Tucker!”

“Yes!” He growled. And then he said something else that sounded like, “mine.” But I couldn’t be sure.

Eventually we came down, and he held me close, kissing my head. “I didn’t hurt you did I?”

“No. It was amazing. Like always.”

He smiled. “We make a good pair.”

He was right. And I couldn’t deny it anymore. I didn’t want this to end. It seemed like it had to, but I didn’t want it to. Could I make him stay? In a few years, when I was forty, would he still look at me like his fantasy?

The desire to stay in his arms forever was both comforting and terrifying. Eventually, the terror won, and I got out of bed.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked, his voice sleepy.

“Yes. But you’ve made a mess of me,” I joked. “I need to clean up a bit.”