by Zoey Parker
Trent planned on eating other things. He pushed her by the hips, urging her inside.
“What if I just eat you out instead?”
Her eyes flashed. He could practically taste her confusion, her indecision. And fuck if he didn’t feel it too. Sam was supposed to be work. And for work, he didn’t usually extract sexual favors as payment. But Sam was different. Something about her drove him wild. He could barely contain himself.
“You can’t possibly be serious,” she said, but it sounded like she was testing him.
“Oh, I am. But maybe not today. That might be moving too fast.” He reached out, snagging her by the hip, then pushed her up against the wall. She inhaled sharply, her pretty eyes wild and wide on him. “Maybe we should take it slow. As husband and wife.”
“And what does slow entail?”
He bit his lip, looking her up and down. He wanted to do everything to her, and then some. But he had to start somewhere. And that somewhere was with his fingers buried deep inside her. “I think I should pick up from where I left off yesterday.”
She lowered her head, peeking under her eyelashes at him. She didn’t respond for a moment, then finally came a throaty, “Oh yeah?”
She was into it. He trailed his hands down the side of her body. He made quick work of the button on her pants, then slid the slacks down over her hips.
“I bet you haven’t stopped thinking about my fingers buried inside you,” he murmured. God knows he hadn’t stopped thinking of it. His cock strained against the crotch of his jeans. A notable bulge had gathered there. “I can’t wait to see how wet you are for me.”
He yanked her pants to her knees, then pushed her panties down. She inhaled sharply, her blue gaze cutting through him. He dragged a hand up the side of her thigh, then tangled his fingers in the soft golden brown hair between her legs.
“Mm-hmm.” He hoisted her by the hips, pressing her back against the wall. She locked her ankles behind him.
“Oh, God,” she moaned, pressing her head against the wall. “Just do it. Please. I need it.”
He smiled. So she was dying for it. He thrust his hips against her, but it didn’t relieve even a fraction of the pressure building inside him. No, he wanted to be buried balls – or knuckles – deep in her.
“What’s that you need?” He nuzzled his lips into the hollow of her neck.
She smelled like jasmine and flowers. The scent made him dizzy. He dug his fingers into the soft, silky flesh of her ass. Then he headed for her bed, tossing her down. She splayed out, pure hunger on her face as he sat down beside her. Then he gathered her to him, pulling her between his legs, so they both faced the end of her bed.
She pressed her back into him, legs splaying open. She knew what he wanted. Where this was going. He dragged his fingers up and down the damp folds of her bare pussy, exposed and waiting for him.
“Fuck,” he said, his voice cracking.
There was something too sexy about this. Her head lolled to the side, and he was overcome by the urge to see more of her. Feel more of her. He tugged at her blouse. A button popped. She gasped but didn’t stop him. He tugged again, and the thing popped open. He shoved his hand into the silky cup of her bra, her breast filling his palm. A shaky moan escaped her.
“There we go,” he murmured, squeezing her tit while his other hand danced across her pussy.
He pinched her clit, the stiff peak practically a stone between his fingers, then plunged a finger inside her slick canal. She moaned, arching against him. He kept her in place while he pumped his finger in and out, in and out, a slow, teasing process.
She was dripping. Positively drenched for him. He gritted his teeth against the upswell of desire. He wanted to turn her over and fuck her until the sun went down. But they had time. Plenty of time now. He plunged two fingers inside her this time, loving the way her body jolted in his arms. She arched again, her teeth finding his forearm. She bit him gently while he fingered her.
“You like that, huh?” He pinched her clit again then re-plunged his fingers inside her, pumping them in and out of her quickly. Her breathing skyrocketed, eyes pinched shut.
“Oh, my godddd,” she moaned.
He squeezed her tit, tweaking a nipple, while his fingers sluiced in and out of her. He didn’t need to push his cock inside her to know how fucking divine she’d feel. She was pure silk and heat. Already his mind was spinning, and they hadn’t even gotten to the main feature.
“Come for me,” he whispered into her ear. He ran his juicy fingers up over her clit in teasing circles, dipping back into her pussy, then back over the tight nub. She jolted, a strangled moan escaping her. “Come for me, Sam.”
He pushed his fingers over her clit one more time, and once they filled her, an anguished cry escaped her, pussy clamping down tight around his fingers. He rolled her clit around between thumb and forefinger as she came, making sure his fingers filled her, loving the herky-jerky movements as she rode her orgasm from top to bottom. Once she had stilled, chest heaving, he nuzzled the side of her face.
“You ready for the main course now, babe?”
Chapter Nine
Sam felt like she’d been wrung out like a wet towel. She flopped back onto the bed as Trent moved out from behind her, grinning like a devil.
All she could do was grunt. That orgasm had been a little too powerful, especially at the hands of a man like Trent… who by all rights she should be kicking out of her apartment. Telling him to fuck off with his fake marriage plan and his unreasonable demands.
Trent pushed to stand up, his belt buckle clanking as he undid it. The grin on his face only widened.
“I asked if you’re ready.”
She pushed up onto her palms, chest heaving as she looked him up and down. His pants crumpled to his ankles, navy blue boxers revealed, a massive bulge in the middle.
“I don’t know,” she whispered, fingers twitching with the desire to reveal the goods beneath. “Guess it depends on what you’ve got under the hood.”
A sexy laugh rippled out of him. “I got all you could ever need.”
Trent pushed down his boxers, his fat cock bobbing free. Sam bit her lip, her pussy throbbing in response. He’d given her an amazing orgasm, but the thought of him filling her with that cock sent another rush of moisture between her legs.
“Take your shirt off,” she whispered once he’d shimmied out of his jeans and boxers.
He tore his shirt off, revealing a washboard stomach and all. Tiny black hairs dotted the center of his chest. A simple chain hung around his neck.
“You too,” he commanded.
Sam slid her messed up blouse off the rest of the way, then unhooked her bra. She wasn’t even mad that he’d popped buttons. Part of her intense climax had come from the way he’d torn into her. The way he gripped her so hard it was like she was rooted. At the very least, the shirt was a necessary sacrifice.
“There we go,” Trent murmured ripping open a condom wrapper he’d fished from his jeans. He rolled it over the fat tip of his cock, down the length of his full, hard shaft.
Sam wet her bottom lip, her legs falling open as though on command. Something about this man had her willing to do whatever he wanted… whenever he wanted. It was scary. It was abnormal. It was… exciting, somehow, too.
“Guess this makes us fake man and wife now,” Sam murmured as he crawled onto the bed.
He grabbed her by the hips, yanking her toward him. She gasped. He had a powerful grasp. Made her feel like he could have tossed her across the room if he’d wanted.
Sam’s gaze wandered over his physique. He was pure muscle, but not bulky and overdone like he spent each day locked up in the gym. No, these muscles were all real, born of physical work and who knew what else. Trent’s biceps bulged as he pressed his palms onto the mattress on either side of her.
“Guess so,” he said, dragging the tip of his cock up and down the folds of her pussy.
When his cockhead brushed her still-throbbing clit,
she shivered. Everything was extra sensitive now. Him fucking her was going to turn her into a pile of goo.
“I sort of imagined my first fake wedding a little differently,” she said, but the smile fell from her face as he pushed himself inside her.
He grunted softly once his cockhead popped inside. Trent’s gaze raked over her, something raw and primal in those crystal-blue eyes.
“Damn, Sam,” he murmured, flexing his hips, pushing himself deeper.
Her head dropped back, a moan caught in the back of her throat. Him filling her sensitive pussy sent her entire body shivering. It felt too good. Too right.
“Oh God,” she moaned. “Please, Trent.” She clawed at his low back, needing more of him.
Faster. Harder. Now.
Trent pushed himself all the way into her, shivered slightly, then he began pummeling. Holding her by the hips, he rocked and bumped against her, hitting that pace she craved. Each time he surged into her, the vision behind her eyelids went spotty. She dragged her fingers over the bumpy rocks of his six-pack, up over the flat planes of his chest. The man was pure solid heat beneath her touch. She hooked her ankles behind him, and he urged them even higher, pinning them against his ribs. A low moan escaped her.
Trent fucked her so hard and fast that Sam fell over the edge quickly. There was no hope for her. She fisted the comforter while her pussy quaked and pulsed around him. Trent kept going, fucking her harder, drawing out the pleasure even more.
And then he slowed, scooping her up against him so that their bodies pressed together, their sweaty skin meeting. He stilled, then grunted. He moaned low, his abs twitching.
His voice came out ragged: “Fuuuuck.” He twitched again as he finished off, then slid himself out of her.
She couldn’t even move. She slung an arm over her eyes and grunted back.
He laid on the bed beside her, the heat of him sinking into her. A few moments – or maybe an eternity – went by in peaceful silence, broken only by their ragged breaths. When she slid her arm off her face, Trent was there, smiling over at her.
“How was it, wifey?”
All she could muster was a weak laugh.
“That’s what I thought. I think this will be a good arrangement.” He rolled off the bed, headed for the corner of the bedroom where her trash can was. He rolled the condom off carefully, then dumped it into the bin.
All she could do was stare at the six foot two Adonis in her bedroom, practically glowing with virility and sexual satisfaction. Her entire body buzzed with the orgasms he’d given her. Hell, she might be sated for the next month after this one afternoon alone. She’d never come that hard for anybody. And Trent could waltz in here, rip her blouse, and make her come harder than a porn star.
Her skin prickled when he laid back on the bed. He rested his head on a palm, grinning over at her, drawing invisible patterns on her hip with a fingertip.
At that moment, he didn’t feel at all like a Sokolov guy sent to scare her, or any of that. No, he felt a lot like the best sort of lover. The type of guy that would while away the rest of the day at her place, alternating between sexy times and cooking food. The type of guy that it was easy to get tangled up in.
Trent’s blue eyes swept to find hers, and a shiver of understanding coursed between them.
She didn’t know much about this guy yet… shouldn’t want to know much about him either, but as her fingers drifted to meet his, she couldn’t help herself.
“So, Trent. Tell me – why do you love fingering me so much?”
A laugh escaped him. He rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling. “Because you’re hot as fuck.”
“Most guys don’t give a shit if a girl comes,” she pointed out.
“Yeah.” He shrugged. “Why shouldn’t it be great for both of us though?”
“Well. You should be proud. You’re the first man I’ve met who actually cared about my sexual satisfaction. And I’ve fucked a lot of guys.”
He smirked. “Do I get an award?”
“I’ll have a trophy sent to your house next week.”
Chapter Ten
Trent and Sam hung out in her bed so long they fell asleep. Something about the easygoing conversation and the heavy hand of satisfaction pushed them both into a late afternoon nap. By the time Trent jolted awake, the hue of the sky outside told him dusk was just around the corner. He rolled out of bed and dressed quietly, unable to rip his gaze from her naked body.
Damn. The entire afternoon felt surreal, like he’d watched it in a movie instead of living it. Except for the body buzz he had – that was all real. He’d never gotten that from a movie.
Once he had on his pants and T-shirt, he stepped out into her living room, tugging his phone from his pocket. He’d missed a few texts and calls. But the most important matter of business was touching base with Jacobi. He needed to know that Trent would be stepping away for a few weeks to wrap up this business with Lucas Mueller.
Jacobi picked up on the third ring. He sounded tired. “What’s up?”
“Hey.” Trent stuffed his free hand into his pocket, starting a slow stroll along the far wall of her living room. Brightly framed photos gleamed back at him, showcasing the perfect family – blonde sisters playing in leaves, and a proud mother and father. The photos didn’t betray the secrets about this family that both he and Sam knew too well. “Got an update on the Black sitch.”
“Yeah? You paid another visit?”
“Some of the debt’s been worked off.” He flexed his jaw, running a toe over the bottom shelf of a bookcase, his mind flashing back to the heart-stopping orgasm he’d had while buried deep inside her. “I need her help for a side project, so I think it’ll work out nicely.”
“Side project?”
“Yeah. I went to visit Mueller.” Trent rubbed the back of his head, feeling the long pieces of hair that had been annoying him for a couple weeks. Once it got too long, it got curly – and a little too effeminate for his tastes. But hell if he could drag himself into a barbershop. “And I found myself an interesting opportunity.”
Lucas hummed. “Financial? Or otherwise?”
“Financial.” Trent walked to the bay window overlooking the front of the apartment complex. A big tree out front shaded part of the view, the leaves in transition, blaring bright orange. “I’m gonna need to take a few weeks off. Just to see this opportunity through.”
“And it came on the heels of Lucas Mueller?”
“Yep. Once I do this, he’ll have the cash to pay you back.”
Jacobi sighed. “Hey. I trust you to do your job. I trust your judgment. Just make sure that whatever this is, it doesn’t cut into Sokolov territory.”
“It won’t,” Trent promised.
After all, he was just posing as a guy’s lost son to con his wife. This was the money that Jacobi needed to pay back the Sokolovs… and Trent raking in a fat cut wouldn’t hurt either.
Trent hung up, heading back into the bedroom. The brief break from being at Sam’s side left him eager to return. Even if all he did was lay next to her while she napped. When he stepped into the dim room, she was just stirring.
“Damn.” She rubbed her eyes, pushing up on a palm to peer at the bedside clock. “We sure fell asleep, huh?”
“Guess we needed it.” Trent eased onto the bed, noticing her kiss-swollen lips, and the faint outline of his fingerprints on her hips and breasts. He liked to get rough – and it seemed she liked it too. “All that sex zapped us.”
She laughed softly, pushing some hair out of her face. She looked like a groggy angel. She reached for her panties at the side of the bed.
“Do you have to get dressed?” he asked softly. “Kinda lovin’ this view.”
“Maybe later, if you’re lucky.” She winced as she bent down. “Damn. You really bruised me.” She sat back, running her fingers over a part of her hip.
He gnawed on the inside of his lip, checking out the slope of her back as she grabbed the rest of her clothes from the
floor.
As she redressed gingerly, he said, “I like it rough.”
Her eyes flashed. “Good thing I do too.”
“Wasn’t too much?”
She jerked her head to say ‘no’. “You’re the first guy that’s ever… gone there like that.”
“Damn. Where’d you find all these shitty guys before me?” He laughed, standing up. “Sounds like you’ve just been waiting for me to show up.”
She smiled coyly at him, then tugged a tank top on to go with a pair of comfy shorts she’d slipped on. Her hard nipples pushed at the flimsy fabric of the tank. She came over to him, tugging at his belt buckle.
