The Pretend Boyfriend novel Chapter 53

"I thought you were unemployed."

"Doesn't mean I've lost all my money overnight. I'll still get profits from Vanguard, provided it hasn't fallen into the red by my very public misdemeanors. I'll have more than enough to pump something into our gym, pardon the pun."

He sounds so earnest that she wants to believe him.

"Wow," she says, "you really are serious about this."

"Want to nail my coffin shut?"

She's not going to tell him about Adele Jankovic. At least, not until she has time to check it out.

She's not going to tell him how much she loves him either.

When they have finished dinner, they fall into bed. Her bed.

He tears off his T-shirt and whispers, "I'm going to make it up to you for the other night."

She lies there, never taking her eyes off him. How can she? He's so beautiful, with his large eyes lighted up like that, and his sleek, well-toned body gleaming in her lamplight.

He climbs on top of her. She's fully dressed, but not for long. He begins to teasingly grope her breasts beneath her top until her nipples are all perky and flushed. Then he bends his head down to kiss her.

And oh, what a kiss. Compared to the other night, he seems to have shed most of his burdens. His lips are hungry, ravenous, imbued with a need she hasn't felt from him in a long time. He scrunches her T-shirt as his mouth devours hers, and after a while - with the hardening apparent between his legs - he seizes its hem and rips it over her tousled head.

They shack their clothes systematically. His jeans drop to the floor beside hers. Underwear off, followed by her pretty red bra. When they are both naked, he clasps her hand and guides it to his erection - now magnificent and as solid as his determination.

"Feel it," he says.

Her hand grabs the thick shaft of his penis and lovingly runs back and forth. She massages his glistening knob, feeling it grow harder - if possible - under her expert rub.

"Oh wow, baby's back," she breathes.

"For many more sequels ... in the same night."

He tongues her neck, her chin, the depression between her collar bones. She shivers in anticipation, her entire body quivering and primed to his delicate touch. He moves his tongue in a line between her breasts, and buries his face there, licking and tasting her. His fingers flip her nipples back and forth. Then his mouth closes on her right nipple, and he begins an intense sucking that makes her toes curl.

She says, "I want it rough tonight, Brian. Fuck me ... hard."

"Are you sure?"

She strokes his cheek. "Yes."

She senses he needs to overcome a hurdle in his own mind. A validation of sorts that he hasn't turned into a monster overnight.

"You're beautiful," she says to him, and her emotion is heartfelt. "You will always be beautiful."

He smiles tenderly at her. "You're beautiful too."

He raises his hips to straddle hers. He penetrates her slowly at first, taking his time to fill her snug, warm tube. She pushes her head back into the pillow - ohhhhhh. How she loves the silky feel of his sheathed rod against her moist walls. Her creams are flowing copiously now, lubricating him. He pushes himself into her until he can go no more - the way she likes it. His body is warm against hers. They are chest to chest, belly to belly.

He lowers his mouth to hers again and kisses her passionately as he starts to move his hips. His thrusts are gentle at first, and then he grows bolder, more confident - because she responds so wonderfully to him by moaning against his mouth and arching her back.

She lifts her hips up to meet his. His movements escalate. He kisses her periodically. Deep, searching, wet, open-mouthed kisses that send a thrilling heat into the base of her skull. The pleasure of his strokes stimulates her every fiber down there - her every recess, her every fold. She can drown in the ecstasy of it all, especially in the sweetness and glory and warmth of his mouth.