Fake Marriage (Contemporary Romance Box Set)

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Fake Marriage (Contemporary Romance Box Set) Page 55

by Ajme Williams


  He stopped and jerked back. “The teacher?”

  “Yes. Now, if you’re done throwing a tantrum—which by the way, why is it when I get mad, you call me a child, but when you do it, it’s somehow not childish? As far as I’m concerned, you’re the one being a big baby.”

  His jaw tightened. “I don’t think you’re a child.” His voice was tight.

  “Right. I’m all grown up enough to fuck but not have a real relationship with. Is that why you were with Shelley? Maybe I wasn’t her substitute. Maybe she was mine.”

  He stared at me, his gaze hot and wild as he stalked, like a cat, toward me. My heart rate shot up, not in fear, but in excited anticipation, which was stupid because I had no clue what he was about to do.

  He leaned over, putting his hands on the bed and then his knees, crawling toward me.

  I swallowed hard.

  “Do you know why I fucked you today?”

  I shook my head as he drew nearer, and I had to lean back.

  “No?” he prodded.

  I shook my head again, leaning back more until I fell onto my back. He crawled over me, his hands on either side of my shoulders, his knees on each side of my hips.

  “Because you fucking drive me crazy with need.”

  I gasped at the intensity of his gaze, the heat of his words.

  His gaze drifted down over my body and back up. He took my hand and brought it to his dick, which was so hard and big it had to be uncomfortable behind the fly of his jeans.

  “You do that, Brooke. Not Shelley,” he said, releasing my hand and putting his back on the bed next to my shoulder.

  I gently rubbed his cock through his jeans, liking how it made his breath hiss.

  “You going to help me with that?” he asked, his tone still rough, a little angry.

  “Yes.” A part of me thought I should tell him no. Tell him to get out. But I had to face it. I loved him. I wanted him. It didn’t make me a child. It made me weak that I was willing to settle for whatever crumbs he’d give me.

  “When I decided to fuck you today, it occurred to me that we’d never done it in a bed. Do you want that, Brooke? Do you want me to fuck you in a bed?”

  I swallowed again, thrilled and turned on by his words and the humming irritation mixed with sexual need vibrating through him.

  “Yes.”

  He dipped his head, kissing me hard. I could taste his frustration. “You want to learn new ways to fuck?”

  There he was, using the f-word a lot again. I never thought I’d be so aroused by a man using it with me.

  “I want to learn to fuck you, Mo.” Just you, I thought but didn’t say.

  He growled, and his hands were everywhere as they undressed me. We were a tumble of arms and legs until we were both naked, our bodies hot, sticky with perspiration as they came together.

  He settled his hips between my thighs. “Are you sure?” He was calmer now. His voice, gentler.

  “Yes. I want to do whatever makes you happy.”

  He shook his head. “This is a two-person sport. It’s about what makes you happy, too.”

  “So far, everything has made me happy.”

  He laughed, and I felt a little self-conscious. Like I’d said something silly.

  “All right, then.” He levered back on to his knees, sitting on his heels. He pulled my thighs over his thighs, settling his dick on my stomach. “Let’s start with this.”

  His fingers slid through my folds, and then he brought them to his lips and sucked. My pussy clenched at the sight.

  “Mmm. You taste so good, Brooke.” Then he held his dick, rubbing it through my pussy lips before settling at my entrance. “Ready?”

  I nodded. I was well past ready and into desperate. He gripped my hips and pushed in, moving slowly, inch by inch.

  “Your pussy is so fucking sweet,” he groaned as he pushed deeper and deeper. “So tight.”

  I arched as need ramped up in my body. He withdrew and pushed in again.

  “Touch your tits,” he commanded.

  I wasn’t a stranger to touching myself, but I’d never done it in front of another person before.

  “Tweak your nipples,” he said.

  Feeling embarrassed but wanting to please him, I did as he asked. I pinched my nipples, making my pussy contract.

  “Yes, fuck, that’s good,” he gasped. He continued to move in and out of me, each delicious slide pushing me up and up, closer to the sweet torture.

  Then he withdrew, and I cried out in protest.

  “Turn over, baby.” He maneuvered me over. “On all fours.”

  Oh God, I thought as I realized what he was doing. A new flare of arousal shot through me.

  “You okay?” he asked. “We can stop at any time.”

  “I’m okay.” I leaned my ass back, my pussy seeking his dick again.

  His hands caressed down my back and then gripped my ass. His dick found my entrance, and he pushed in again. He was always so big inside me that it was hard to believe he’d feel any different from this position, and yet, it did.

  “Oh God,” I gasped as he withdrew and thrust in again.

  “Okay?”

  “Yes. More…faster,” I begged.

  He fulfilled my request, thrusting in and out faster, his hips slapping into mine each time he filled me to the hilt.

  “You like that, Brooke? You like me fucking you from behind?”

  “Yes.” My head dropped down as the sweet sensation rolled over me each time he plunged in.

  “Tell me. Tell me what you like.”

  “I like you fucking me from behind.” My fingers gripped the sheets as the pleasure built, higher and higher.

  “Are you going to come?”

  “Yes.” I was there, teetering on the edge.

  His hand slipped under me, and he used his fingers to rub my clit as he thrust in hard.

  A white light blasted through my brain as my orgasm exploded. “Mo!” My pussy spasmed in sweet delight.

  He groaned, and before I was fully down, he withdrew, flipped me on my back, and then his mouth was on me. Licking, sucking, eating me until I was writhing as orgasm after orgasm rocked and rolled through my entire body.

  “Oh God…Oh, Mo…Oh God.” I writhed and thrashed as he continued his onslaught. Just when I was sure I couldn’t take more, he moved up my body.

  “Look at me, Brooke.”

  I wasn’t sure how, but I managed to open my eyes. He pushed my knees up and out, and then he thrust in with a loud, low, feral growl. His eyes were a bit crazed and wild.

  I reached up, holding his head in my hands, and I pulled him down and kissed him. I tasted myself on his lips, but more than that, I wanted him to taste me. To feel me. To know how much I loved him and how right and perfect we fit, not just like this, but in life, as well.

  25

  Maurice

  I lost my virginity as a teenager. When I first married Shelley, we had an active sex life. But I could honestly say I’d never felt more desperate. My dick had never felt like it was going to come out of its skin like I did with Brooke. Was it her innocence when it came to sex and my role as a teacher that heightened the arousal to off the charts? Was it her nubile body with round curves and her sweet pussy? Was it her sweet disposition, or the way she looked at me like I was a fucking hero? I didn’t know the reason. All I knew was that desire clawed at my insides as my need to come burned in every neuron in my body.

  Taking her from behind, watching my dick slide in and out of her hot, wet pussy, made me delirious. Eating her like I was a starving man made me drunk with desire. Now it was my turn. I was going to fill her sweet sexy body with my come. I was going to make her mine. Only mine. The politically correct side of me chastised those thoughts, but I was a man needing to claim a woman. This woman. I wanted her to know it.

  “Look at me, Brooke,” I growled as I positioned my dick at her entrance. He throbbed with the need to thrust, but I held him at bay until her beautiful blue gaze was on
me.

  She reached up, cradling my face to pull me in for a kiss, and holy fuck, if it didn’t feel like love emanating from her lips. With her mouth on mine, I thrust, sinking deep, deeper inside her body. It felt like home. Like the only place I’d ever be happy.

  My dick was painfully hard, and as much as I’d have liked to sit inside her, letting her pussy walls massage him, I had to fuck her. Hard. Fast. I had to pound out the need that was scratching and clawing to get free.

  I groaned as I tore my lips away from hers and repositioned myself up on my hands, my hips tilted so my dick sunk as deep inside her as it could go. Then, I let go of the tether on my control. I withdrew and plunged in, groaning at the shock of electricity that shot through me. I did it again, and again, and again, each time the tension coiling tighter and tighter until I was a spring coiled too tight.

  “Fuck. I’m going to come.” My balls contracted as I readied to shoot my load.

  “Come in me,” she gasped, and then her body arched, and her perfect pussy clamped down on my dick so tight, stars lit up my brain.

  I let out a long feral growl as I thrust, and the first shot of come blasted out. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I said with each plunge and grind as my release consumed me in a fantastic fiery inferno. My arms shook, and my lungs burned, but I kept thrusting, kept coming.

  “Mo, Mo, Mo,” she chanted as her body continued to massage my dick, drawing out the pleasure until I couldn’t hold myself up any longer. I collapsed on her, completely spent, even as my dick continued to pulse inside her.

  “Jesus, fuck,” I panted in her ear.

  Her hands rubbed along my back like she was soothing me. I realized that all the other times we’d done this, I’d responded to the immediate guilt and withdrew, not just physically but emotionally, as well. Right now, even if I’d felt regret and wanted to get away, I couldn’t. My muscles were complete noodles. So, I just lay there, feeling her sweet, warm body under mine until my heart rate slowed, and I caught my breath.

  I rolled off, but pulled her with me and tucked her in next to me. Her head rested on my shoulder while her hand settled on my chest, over my heart. Jesus, I wanted to give it to her. The stark realization of that rocked me to my core.

  “Are you all right?” I managed to ask. The last thing I wanted was to be rough and hurt her.

  “Yes.”

  With my free hand, I pinched the bridge of my nose as I realized I couldn’t let this woman go. Frank would kill me. The town would think I was a cliché, a nearly forty-year-old man going through a midlife crisis. But there was nothing I could do about that because it was clear now. I needed her.

  “We can’t keep going like this,” I said.

  She lifted her head to look at me. I saw the flash of fear that I was going to push her away again.

  “I can’t keep avoiding you,” I clarified.

  She smiled, and it was so fucking beautiful that I think my heart grew.

  “I’m glad you finally see that.”

  I smiled back. “This is all your fault.”

  “How’s that?”

  “You’re too good. Too smart. Too sweet. Too sexy. Even an old man like me can’t resist that.”

  “You’re not old. The truth is, this is your fault.” She kissed my chest in a sweet gesture.

  “Me?”

  “Well, I’ve had the hots for you for forever. You’re a good man. Sexy. To watch you ride a horse—” She made a swoony face. “Yum. And you in a suit. Double yum. And.” Her hand slid down over my chest to my dick, wet, sticky, and still not quite recovered. “You naked? I used to diddle myself thinking about it.”

  Both my brows shot up. “You did?”

  She nodded, giving me a deliciously naughty smile. “You made me come so many times before you actually ever touched me.”

  My dick started to fill at the thought of that. “Tell me more.”

  She laughed. “I will. I’ll tell you all, but…” She looked down for a moment, watching her fingers as they played with the hair on my chest. “What are we going to do? I mean, I know you have reservations.”

  I sighed. “I don’t know. I think we still need to be careful. I’m not as confident or sure as you in this,” I admitted. “I don’t know that I’m ready to face your father or the town.”

  Her eyes softened in empathy. “I understand. Just don’t push me away. I…” She stopped herself from whatever she was going to say. “This means something to me. Not a little crush, Mo.”

  I nodded. “Not a crush.” I inhaled a breath. “Maybe we stay on the down-low when we’re out in the world, but at home, when it’s just you and me, we can explore this attraction between us.”

  “Attraction.” She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

  I got the feeling she didn’t like my choice of words to describe what was between us. Did she feel more? For a moment, I thought maybe she did. And while I had to concede that she was an adult, a mature, smart adult, she was still young. There were so many experiences left for her to have. And other men she’d someday meet when she realized that her feelings, while intense and pure, weren’t love. At least not a long-term love.

  Until then, we’d have these moments together. Just her and me. Alone. In our own little world. There was a sweet romanticism to that. I wondered if she’d see it that way, too.

  Wanting to move away from the emotional aspect of this, I said, “Is there more you want to learn?”

  She looked down for a moment, but when she looked back, she was with me. She was going to let the emotional part go, too.

  “I want to suck your dick until you come in my mouth.”

  My dick, already refilling as it was, shot to full throttle. “You sure?”

  She nodded.

  “Have you ever had a dick in your mouth?” I asked, softly massaging her nipple, loving how it beaded and hardened in my hand.

  “You know I haven’t. I was a virgin, remember?”

  I shrugged. “Most would define a virgin as never having intercourse. That doesn’t mean you haven’t ever gotten someone off, or someone hasn’t gotten you off.”

  She studied me. “You got me off.”

  I knew she was talking about four years ago. We’d tip-toed around that topic before. I wasn’t sure I wanted to go into it again now.

  I nodded. “And when I left, your virginity was intact.”

  “That was the first time…only time until now that someone else got me off.”

  My heart did a strange roll in my chest. It was strange to think this lovely girl—woman—had been thinking of me, wanting me for so long.

  “That was the last time, until now that someone else got me off,” I said. I wasn’t sure why I admitted that except it seemed like a nice thing to tell her.

  Her smile was radiant. She looked like I’d given her a gift. I decided I’d give her another one. “And when I jerk off, I think of your mouth on my dick.”

  Wild heat flashed in her blue eyes. “You do? Even though I’ve never done that?”

  “I’ve got a good imagination.”

  She studied me, and I got the feeling like she didn’t believe me. “Are you just saying that?”

  I shook my head as my thumb brushed along her lower lip. “No. I’ve imagined these lips wrapped around my dick many times. Look, he’s imagining it now.”

  She glanced down to where my full, thick cock bobbed like he was nodding yes at my statement.

  She licked her lips, and I damn near came right then.

  “Will you teach me how?” she asked.

  I arched a brow. “What do you think? Do you really think I’d deny him…me…your sweet lips?”

  She gave me that radiant smile again as she moved down my body.

  I realized he was coated in our sex juices and worried she might not like it. Since I wanted her to like sucking me off, I asked, “He has your pussy juice and my come on him. Do you want me to shower first?”

  She shook her head. “No.”

 
Then she drew her tongue up my cock from base to tip, and all rational thought flew out of my brain.

  26

  Brooke

  I practically skipped into the café the next morning. I was on cloud nine after last night with Mo. I finally felt like he was going to allow himself to be with me. We talked and touched, and I woke in the most perfect place in the world—next to him. But while this marriage might be closer to reality in his home, it was still a secret out in the real world. I was okay with that, for now. Small steps, I told myself. Mo was moving in the right direction, and if he needed a little more time, I could wait.

  I was ordering a coffee when a woman approached me. I’d seen her around, talking to Sinclair and Trina before, but wasn’t sure who she was.

  “Brooke Campbell?” she asked me.

  “Yes.” I looked at her suspiciously. How did she know me?

  “I’m Erica Edmonds. I’m a writer with the local paper, and I’m working on a story about Simon Stark.”

  I paid for my coffee. “Okay.” I didn’t know much about Stark except that he’d wanted to buy my father’s farm, and most people, especially those in the mayor’s office, didn’t like him. But he wasn’t buying my father’s land, so I didn’t know why she’d want to talk to me.

  “Do you have a minute to talk? I’ve come into some interesting information that you might want to know about,” she said. She smiled, but I had an unsettling feeling that I wasn’t going to like what she said. I couldn’t imagine any information she’d have that was an interest to me unless she knew about Mo helping my dad.

  “I’m not here to cause trouble,” she added as if she knew I was uncomfortable.

  I shrugged, taking my coffee and sitting at a small table near the window.

  “As you may or may not know, Stark was eager to buy up significant farmland to build a prison.”

  I nodded. “I’d heard about it, but don’t know specifics. I was living in Chicago then,” I said.

  “Yes, well, Stark isn’t a man who likes to lose.”

  “I heard he crashed the deputy mayor’s wedding,” I said.

 

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