Page 149 of Fake it ’Til Fall

The sentence dies.

“There,” I murmur. “Plot’s gone.”

She makes a sound that might be a laugh if it weren’t so desperate, and when her thighs try to close around my head, I slide my hands under them and ease them wider, holding her open with a patience I absolutely do not feel.

“Don’t hide from me.”

“I’m not hiding,” she says, breathless and furious. “I’m preserving dignity.”

“You can preserve it later.”

“That is a terrible policy.”

“It’s working.”

I lower my mouth again before she can answer.

Her hand flies into my hair, fingers tightening, not pushing me away.

Pulling me closer.

Fuck.

That does something to me. I flatten my tongue against her again, and this time she doesn’t have a comeback.

She makes a noise like a sob and nods, jaw clenched. The sight of her—open, vulnerable, fighting herself and me—is almost too much. I could finish her off in seconds, but I want her to lose her mind first.

She deserves it, and so do I.

I move my hand from her stomach to her breast, my palm sliding up her ribcage. She shivers beneath me. I cup her, my thumb brushing her nipple, while the heel of my hand rests near her sternum, close enough to feel her heart beating fast under my touch.

Frantic and terrified, and I know she wants this as much as I do, which is saying a fucking lot.

I go back down. I want her to come on my tongue, to lose control so completely she forgets to hate me for it. I work her slowly at first, then build, faster, tongue circling, sucking, then soft again, always changing. She’s so close, I can feel it in the way she tenses, the way her thighs shake. I slip a finger inside her, then two, curling just so. She tightens around me, and I know she’s close, so I hold off, slow down. She growls in frustration.

“Fuck you, Wolfe,” she says. “Don’t stop.”

“Tell me what you want,” I say, not letting up, voice muffled by her. “Say it.”

She hesitates, and I know she hates this, hates admitting anything. But I keep going, relentless, and finally she cracks.

“Make me come,” she whispers, eyes squeezed shut. “Please, just⁠—”

Chapter Nineteen

Forrest

I give her everything, all at once. Pressure, speed, the rhythm I know drives her crazy. Her body tenses, tightens, and she’s there, coming hard, back arched, mouth open in a silent scream. I don’t stop, ride it out with her, feel the aftershocks run through her. She’s still shaking when I finally ease up, let her hips down gently.

She’s boneless, dazed. I lick her clean, slow and careful, then move up to her face, kiss her, let her taste herself on my lips. She kisses back, desperate, and drags my head down so she can bite my lip.

“Well,” she says, voice wrecked, “that was incredibly rude of you.”

I laugh. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“It was. I had a personality before this.” She swallows, then gestures vaguely toward the ceiling. “Plans. Boundaries. A working relationship with gravity.”

“You still have gravity.”