Page 84 of Fake in Love


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My jaw drops. Jesse reaches over and taps the bottom of my chin so that my teeth click together.

“I think you need to come again before it will fit,” he says.

I squirm beneath him.

This is sex? The other times I’ve had sex have been disappointing. And sure, I’ve heard what it can be like, read about it, seen it on naughty sites, used toys to get myself there, but this is something else entirely.

It’s overwhelmingly good.

My body is tense again, ready for him.

“Are you on birth control?” he asks.

“No. I—I don’t do anything withanyone.”

His head drops back as he strokes his cock again.

“That’s so fucking sexy.”

He stops touching himself and goes to the bathroom, then comes back with a condom.

I bite on my bottom lip, tracing his movements, but he places the condom on the bedside table instead of slipping it onto his impressive dick.

“This,” he says, tapping it, “is for when you’re good and ready. Tell me what you want.”

“What I want?”

Jesse smirks.

“Tell me your deepest, darkest desires about me, Angel. I want to hear them from that fuckable mouth.”

Another wave of arousal.

“Tell me.”

“I want you to rip this dress off like you can’t stand not seeing my body,” I whisper. “And I want… I want you to lose control. I want your hand on my throat while you do things to me.”

Jesse reaches up and rips his shirt open, buttons pinging away, and then he places a knee either side of my body. His jaw clenches and works.

“I want you so fucking bad, Marci, I’m ready to blow all over that pretty face.”

And then he grabs the top of my dress, the muscles in his chest flexing and rippling, and tears the fabric down the middle like a beast, my body rocking along with the vicious movements.

Jesse sucks one of my nipples into his mouth and bites it gently, sliding his hand up to my throat. He clasps it in his hand and squeezes.

“Say when.”

He increases the pressure.

“Like that. Like that.”

I squirm beneath him again.

Jesse uses his other hand and slides it down my body. He presses a finger inside me, then two.

“See? This is why you need to come again. It will never fit.”

I whine.

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