Faking It For Mr Right

“Fuck me,” I practically beg this time, and his smile widens in response.

He drives into me with one solid thrust. It makes me cry out with the sudden force of it, the way his thick cock stretches my pussy wide as he arches his hips to push deeper, deeper.

When he’s all the way inside me, I raise my legs to wrap around his waist, arching up against him, and I let my head fall back against the blanket. Fuck. He feels incredible. I’ve never felt stuffed so full. My back arches to drive my hips up closer to his, and I gasp faintly when he pulls back out of me. But he’s only gone for a second. Then he thrusts back again, a little faster this time.

“Has anyone ever told you your pussy is fucking incredible?” he murmurs against my throat, his breath hot against me before he kisses the edge where my neck meets my collarbone. “So fucking tight and wet…” He pulls back, drives in again.

I tighten my legs around his waist. “I feel so fucking full,” I manage to breathe.

“You like having my fat cock inside you, dirty girl?” He pulls back, thrusts again, and I moan in assent.

We move like that, picking up speed until we find a steady pace. Xander drives his cock into me again and again, until it takes all my concentration not to lose control right then and there. Finally, the sensations grow too strong, my already sensitive clit throbbing for release. “I’m so close,” I pant, and he arches his hips, angling his cock inside me to drive in again, again.

I cry out faintly as the second orgasm of the night hits me, making my toes curl and my whole body quiver. He keeps thrusting inside me, faster now, nearing his own finish. He growls out my name as he comes inside me, and I moan again at feeling the white-hot sensation of him coming inside my pussy, our juices mingling and dripping down my thighs as his thrusts slow.

When he finally stops moving, we lie there for a moment, sweat-slicked on the evening grass, our limbs entangled, our eyes locked on one another. He leans down to kiss me again, slow and soft this time, and for just a little while, it feels like this moment might never end.

3

Xander

I stare at the contract in front of me, but the words swim on the page, all blurring together, until all I can make out is the occasional name. With a groan, I let the paper fall back to the desk and shove back my chair, standing to pace back and forth across the office. All I can think about, all I can focus on, is her. Every time I shut my eyes, I see her prone body stretched along the grass in front of me, her nipples hard as rocks, her chest heaving in the night air as I lick her toward a climax.

I see those dark eyes locked on mine; I hear her throaty, sexy as hell voice begging me to fuck her.

I cannot get Melanie out of my fucking head.

Which is a problem, because it’s already been a week since I left the town where she lived, without anything more than a short goodbye. We both knew we’d likely never see one another again. It was a one-off. A particularly mind-blowing one-night stand, but nothing more than that. After all, what could come of it? She lives out in the country; she has her whole small-town life. And me, as much as I travel, I’m a city man. New York City is my home base. As much as I like spending the odd weekend in the country, I’d lose my mind living there full-time. Not to mention my whole career would go down the toilet.

It would never work out. Better to just accept it for what it was—a pleasant fling. And to forget about her.

Forget about her.

But I can’t. She haunts my dreams. She interrupts my work, makes it hard to concentrate or focus on what needs to get done. Which is a particularly big problem this week, because fuck, there is so much work that needs to get finished.

My phone beeps, interrupting my mental train mid-wreck. Grateful for any excuse to get my mind off its usual spiral of preoccupation this week, I leap for it. “Xander’s office.”

“Xander, I have your father on line one,” replies the crisp voice of my secretary, Jake. “He says it’s urgent.”

“Put him through,” I reply, collapsing back down at my desk chair and running my hands through my hair.

“Xander?” asks my father’s deep, brusque voice a second later.

I clear my throat—and my mind—hard. “Dad. Good news. I visited the Keller farms personally, and they passed inspection. All we need to do is finalize the grant contract now.”