RING ME: A Fake Fiancé Romance

by Flite, Nora

  My normally organized demeanor fell to shreds with him staring at me expectantly as I darted around my apartment, stuffing things into a duffel bag. Shoes? Pajamas? Toothbrush? I snatched up some dressy trousers and a few blouses, then froze. I'm going to be leaving his place in the morning to go to work. Will Aubrey realize I didn't spend the night in my own bed? With my luck, she'll smell the guilt on me.

  “Do you need any help?” he asked.

  “No, no, I'm good.” Packing the last few things into the bag, I faced him. “I'll have to come by here tomorrow to feed my fish.”

  He glanced at the small tank by my kitchen counter. Inside, my orange goldfish bobbed around, her long fins trailing like wet lace. “She's pretty, what's her name?”

  “Ariel. I told you, I loved that movie.”

  “Have you had her long?”

  “A few months. I bought her after—” I stopped myself. “What's the policy on talking about exes, again?”

  “If I remember, you said he wasn't nice. Talking about bad exes is fine.”

  “Yeah, he was pretty awful.” Wandering over to the fish tank, I crouched, smiling fondly at Ariel as she swam. “Adopting her helped me with the breakup. I was in a rough place after Ben broke things off, but taking care of Ariel allowed me to believe I wasn't a terrible, messed up person.”

  Conner had come up beside me without me realizing. His hand closed on mine, his thumb brushing the new engagement ring. “How could you ever think you're a terrible person?” he asked.

  I looked up into his concerned eyes. “Ben and I dated for a year before I found the courage to tell him about my kinks in the bedroom. He was... not impressed, to put it mildly.” I frowned at the memory.

  “Hey.” Conner squeezed my hand. His palm was so bag, my fingers vanished in his grip. “Don't ever think there's something wrong with you. He's the shithead for not accepting every part of you.”

  I caught my breath, my whole body warming from his kind words. “I'll be honest, Conner. Part of me agrees with you. Another part of me, deep down, still feels disgusted by what turns me on.” I laughed nervously as I pulled my hand away from his. “I mean, in the age of hashtag Me Too, when women are dealing with being abused and harassed, isn't it fucked up that I want someone to take advantage of me?”

  “Maya...”

  “I run my own marketing agency,” I said, my voice rising. “I've done empowering work for some of the hottest, most vulnerable new musicians in Nashville. Magazines have interviewed me! Little girls look up to me because they see they can run their own business someday, too! And here I am, hiding this awful secret that as strong as I seem on the surface... at the end of the day, I want a man to hold me down and use me for his needs! That's messed up! I know it is.”

  I squared off with Conner, daring him to argue with me, wondering what he could even say. I was used to winning debates. I rarely backed down, I was stubborn as hell and it was part of my success.

  Conner took a deep breath, then let the air out through his nose. “You spend so many hours a day being in charge. That sounds exhausting.”

  “It is.”

  “Why would it be weird for you to want to give up control?”

  “The world is full of authoritarian people, Conner, and I doubt they all secretly wish someone would dominate their ass in bed.”

  He laughed, and when he did, I had to smile. “Dominate their ass. Nice.” His voice became tender. “Maya, you're not broken because you're kinky. You're a consenting adult, and so am I. Sex is complicated. But if no one is getting hurt, and it makes you feel good, how can that be wrong?”

  I dropped my duffel bag by my feet. “I don't want it to be. It just feels that way in my heart.”

  “Do you think I'm disgusting for enjoying the same stuff?”

  “No!” I said quickly. “No, you're not—I'd never think that.”

  “If you don't think that about me, then don't think it about yourself either.” He looked at Ariel in the tank. “You've focused on being kind to your fish... but maybe it's time to be kind to yourself.”

  “Are you always like this?” I whispered.

  “Like what?”

  “Perfect.”

  His face became a beautiful, placid lake, free of all disturbances. There was no hint to what he was feeling. For a brief moment I worried I'd said too much. We were still getting to know each other, even within the confines of our roleplay. Maybe Conner was skeptical when it came to compliments, like I was.

  He curled his arms around my body, his hard muscles colliding on my soft breasts before his mouth slanted over mine. It was a kiss that screamed You belong to me. The kind of kiss reserved for old souls woven together by love. I didn't deserve this... but I leaned into it greedily.

  “My sweet little Cherry,” he groaned across my skin. The vibration of his nickname for me, Cherry, thrilled me to my very foundation. My nipples hardened in my bra, my whole body going limp with desire. I'd never wanted someone so quickly, so certainly, in my life.

  I tripped on my duffel bag. “Bedroom,” I gasped, “Now.”

  “Yes, Ma'am,” he growled. I began to walk but Conner scooped me into his arms, ignoring my tiny gasp. “My future wife gets what she wants, and quickly.”

  Future wife. Shivering in delight, I clung to his solid neck while he rushed us to my bedroom. It was clean inside—I've always been a neat freak. He didn't turn the light on, there was enough coming from the kitchen to illuminate the lavender bedspread.

  Conner set me on top, his weight creating delicious pressure on my whole body when he held me close to kiss me again. The hard tips of his fingers scooped my shirt upwards, tracing my ribs. “How did I get so lucky to land a fianceé like you?” he asked.

  That reminded me we were already playing a scene. I wasn't sure if I needed to establish a new one. Would he fuck me like I was his sweet fianceé, or his filthy whore? I didn't know which I wanted. The rules were getting blurred.

  “Conner,” I whispered nervously.

  His mouth pressed on mine, soft lips grazing. His tongue followed the curve of my bottom lip. “Relax. I know what you want. I know who you are. Your secrets are mine, Maya. I wouldn't marry someone without accepting every part of them.”

  My heart was too big for my chest. I couldn't breathe, I just stared at his vibrant blue eyes. I was right, when I'd called him perfect. He was keeping to our roleplay, but he did know what I liked in the bedroom. If I used our safe word, would it end everything, or just the sex? This was some Inception bullshit and yet... I wasn't worried. Somehow, I knew he'd do everything right. I wouldn't need a safe word with him.

  “How did no one lock you down before you met me?” I whispered in amazement.

  “What?”

  “A guy like you should be married already.”

  He looked perplexed. Had I said something that offended him? “Roll over,” he said, sitting up.

  “Why?”

  “So I can taste my sweet fiancee's delicious pussy.”

  My clit twitched as I got wetter. I flipped onto my stomach, and before I could ask him what to do next, he grabbed my legs and pulled me to the edge of the bed. Conner knelt on the floor between my feet, his fingers slipping under my hips, undoing the button and zipper of my pants before tugging them down my ankles. In a second I was exposed in just my black panties; I looked over my shoulder at him, breathing heavily.

  Conner put his chin on top of my ass, palms gripping the backs of my thighs. There was a wicked promise in his stare. When he smirked, the stubble on his jaw rubbed over my smooth ass-cheeks. “You're already wet, aren't you? I can smell it. My sweet Cherry has the hungriest pussy. But that's good, because I can't get enough of it.”

  He pushed my legs wide, settling between them, kissing my left buttock, then my right. I jumped each time. His warm tongue glided over my skin, inching under the edge of my panties, then retreating. The heat built in my lower belly until I was gyrating myself against the bed, moaning without an
y control.

  “Fuck me,” I begged. “I can't wait anymore!”

  “I'll fuck you, babe. I'll fuck you until you forget your own name. But not until I'm done eating this pussy.” Slow as could be, he pulled my panties down my thighs. The air tickled the junction between my legs; then the air became hot.

  He was breathing right onto me.

  “Oh, Conner, please...”

  “Shh,” he soothed me. Spreading me open from behind, he slid his tongue along my slit, then he kept going, lapping at my asshole. I'd always wanted to have someone eat my ass, but had never had the guts to ask. Conner knew my desires. I'd told him all of them when text was enough of a barrier to make me bold.

  Licking me from my rosebud to my clitoris, he used one hand to lift my hips higher. His nose rubbed my taint as he ate my soaking pussy like he was getting his last meal on Earth.

  Gasping, he came up for air. “Maya.” I opened my eyes; his face was shiny from my juices. “Where do you keep your sex toys?”

  “Why do you assume I have any?”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Come on.”

  “That drawer, there.”

  Conner reached into the bedside table, digging around. I watched with rising excitement as his eyes widened, then his smirk spread until it showed his teeth. He'd found something he liked.

  Looking straight at me, he held up the purple anal plug for my approval. My heart was a tempest. “Yes,” I breathed.

  He came back over to kneel between my legs. The anal plug was tapered at one end, flaring out at the bottom, making it look like a fat little pear. It was as big as his pinky finger at its thinnest point... wide as his cock-head at the base.

  He rolled it gently over my pussy, dragging it through my wetness until it was shiny and slick. “Do you want this?”

  “Please.”

  Conner chuckled, it sounded like his mouth was full of warm honey. “My soon to be wife's ass is as hungry as her little pussy.” I flushed pink, my face burning. But when he pushed the tip of the anal plug into my asshole, I groaned. “Good girl,” he crooned, “That's it. Nice and slow, take it.”

  My ass spread as he sank the rubber plug deeper. The sensation of being filled was both too much and not enough. My muscles flexed, drawing the object inside, eager to get as much of the thick plug as possible.

  Suddenly, Conner began to withdraw it. I whimpered an argument—he hissed out a raw, hungry noise, pushing the plug back in. “Your ass is so gorgeous, Maya. I love watching it take this inside.”

  His fingers reached low, stroking my clit as he fucked my ass gently. He never let the plug fully enter, always leaving me aching for more. Finally, I began thrusting backwards, desperate for him to push the plug all the way inside. The rubbing on my clit increased. I was close to coming, my body burning hot.

  He shoved the anal plug into me at the same time that he pushed his cock into my pussy. I hadn't realized he'd pulled it out, or that he'd put a condom on, I was too aroused to notice anything beyond my need to orgasm. “Aaaah,” I sobbed, thrilling with the double penetration. My ass squeezed around the base of the plug, holding it inside.

  “Fucking hell,” he growled, wrapping his arms around my chest. His skin pressed on my naked back, his abdominals so solid I felt them through my spine. He thrust inside my pussy, rubbing against the plug through my thin walls. I didn't feel myself coming until the wave was making my toes cramp; it happened so abruptly, the build up becoming pure, intense pleasure that never ended.

  He fucked me through the first climax right into a second. “My girl loves it dirty, doesn't she?” he purred in my ear. “Play with this ass a little...” he reached down, palming my rear end, giving it a light spank. “And you become my personal little slut.”

  “Yes!”

  “But just for me. No one else gets this slutty, starving pussy, right?”

  “Yes, fuck, yes!” I would have said anything for him. Done anything. I'd never been so in the moment, a being of pure, wet, sordid pleasure. Sex was all I knew and all I was.

  His cock thickened, warning me he was going to finish. Holding me close, he kissed my neck and trembled as he came inside of me. Again, the tiny, primal voice in my head whispered what a waste it was to pour his sperm into the condom. I was quicker to shut it down this time, focusing on his warm body, the delightful pressure of his embrace. Conner held me in my bed, our breathing loud in my ears. Eventually it merged into one roaring echo of white noise.

  I'd never felt so satisfied in my life.

  I WOKE UP WITH A START. Sitting up on my bed, I realized I was naked and alone. My bedside clock blinked the time—10 at night. I must have fallen asleep right after... I blushed, then grinned. But where had Conner gone?

  Snatching a clean pair of panties from my dresser, then a loose fitting ACDC tee shirt, I dressed myself. “Conner?” I called out, wandering into my hallway.

  “In here.”

  I rounded the corner until I could see into my living room, which was split from the kitchen by a sliver of counter space. My apartment was a modern open floor plan.

  Conner was standing shirtless by a bookshelf, one hand in his jean pocket, the other holding a glass of water. He was staring at the numerous framed pictures I'd propped on my shelves. “This is your mom, right?”

  It wasn't really a question—the woman in the photographs looked like me, only older, and a little slimmer. Her hair was the same shade of fox-fur as mine, her freckles darkened from years of believing sunblock was a waste of time. She had a tiny chip in her front tooth, but that didn't stop her from grinning extra wide for the camera. “That's her, yeah.”

  “And that's your grandfather?”

  “Pappy. His wife, Nana, is in a few photos, but she passed away... gosh, ten years ago?” Had it already been that long? I moved next to him, pointing as I talked. “That's my mom's sister, Jemine. There's me covered in cherry pie filling. Hah, and there's one with all of Nana's farm cats. Look at Tank, he was the fattest cat I ever saw.”

  “You have photos of everyone and everything. Why are there none of your dad?”

  I made a face before I could stop myself. “Because I never had any pictures to hang up. I told you, Mom raised me by herself.”

  “I'm sorry. I thought—”

  “That something had happened to him? That he'd been around until a tragic accident stole him away?” I snorted derisively. “He left my mother when she was pregnant. I don't even know his name, and before you ask, no—I don't want to. As far as I'm concerned, I never had a father.”

  Empathy made his blue eyes shimmer. He faced me fully, and I wasn't sure if he was going to hug me. I didn't know if I wanted him to. I felt bristly, resistant to affection, ready to fight. But when Conner walked right by me, I... deflated. I'd just shared something very personal, and the last time I'd talked about my father with someone, it had backfired.

  It was like I'd learned nothing from the past.

  People always let you down. How had I forgotten that?

  Conner set his glass of water on my counter, then he whirled around, sweeping me up in his muscular arms like I was about to melt into the floor if he gave up an inch. “I'm sorry,” he whispered into my hair. “I didn't mean to pry.”

  “It's okay. It's not a big deal.” Smiling hurt but I did it anyway.

  Conner squeezed me tighter, saying nothing. Relaxing into his touch gave me strength.

  “You know,” I whispered sadly, “I was nervous you'd try and figure out why my dad had left.”

  “Why would I do that?”

  “Ben... when I told him about this, he tried to defend my dad. He said my mom had tried to trap him in a relationship.” I frowned, hugging Conner more fiercely. “He used to make rude jokes about how I'd better be using birth control, because he didn't want me to end up like my mom, single with a baby to raise alone.”

  “What an asshole.”

  “Yeah,” I laughed dryly. “I wasted so much time on him. My friend, Aubrey, sh
e says my biggest strength is how competitive I am. But that it's also my worst flaw. She's right. I was so set on treating my relationship like it was a problem that could be solved if I kept chipping at it. That's why I stayed with him when it was obvious we were a terrible fit.”

  I breathed in lavishly, winding my arms around his body, feeling his broad back under my fingertips. We stayed like that—no words, just our presence—as my fish tank buzzed in the background. He ran a hand over my shoulder-blades. “I was raised by a single mom, too.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. She was tough as nails.”

  “Was?”

  “She died two years ago,” he sighed. “A stroke.”

  I staggered from that heavy info. “I'm... so sorry, that must have been a shock.”

  He offered a half smile, pushing the hair from my forehead to behind my ear. “It was. But I think, knowing her, she would have taken a sudden, surprise death over something that created lingering pain. She was the sort who ripped off band-aids. She made it clear I could cry, but I don't think I ever saw her shed a tear.”

  “My mom is like that, too. Tougher than a coconut, rough as one at times, but she always made sure I knew she loved me.”

  “That's why you're doing whatever you can to make sure she's taken care of,” he said.

  I blushed, backing away and heading into the kitchen to get myself something to drink. The fridge's white interior light made me squint—I grabbed a half-empty bottle of leftover orange juice. “She worked her ass off my whole life to make sure I was happy.” I took a big drink of the juice, enjoying how tart it was on my tongue. “It's my duty, I guess.”

  “When you have kids, will you expect them to care for you?”

  Choking on the juice, I covered my mouth, gawking at him. “Kids? Me?”

  His shoulders lifted, but he didn't look ashamed at making such an assumption. “You strike me as someone who'd be a good mom.”

  “I don't know how to take that.”

  “It's not a bad thing, is it? Wanting a family?”