Page 45 of Pretend To Be Mine

“Fuck,” he breathed against my neck. “You feel incredible.”

I groaned. “Move. Please move.”

He pulled out almost completely before sliding back in. It was too sensual. Too good. I was climbing toward another peak embarrassingly fast. His hips rolled with each thrust, hitting that perfect spot inside me that made my toes curl.

I clawed at his back, needing something to anchor me as pleasure built again. His pace increased, thrusts becoming harder, faster. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled my tiny apartment along with our ragged breathing.

“Touch yourself,” he commanded. “I want to feel you come around my cock.”

I slipped my hand between our bodies, finding my clit. The added stimulation was almost too much. Combined with the feeling of him moving inside me, it pushed me right to the edge.

“That’s it,” he encouraged, his voice strained. “Come for me again.”

My fingers circled faster, matching his rhythm. The pressure built and built until it exploded. My orgasm hit me even harder than the first, making my entire body shake. I cried out, vision going white as waves of pleasure crashed over me.

Adrian groaned, his rhythm faltering. The noises that came from his mouth sounded like a fierce animal.

He thrust deep one final time, his body going rigid as he came. I felt him pulse inside me, felt the tremors that ran through him.

He collapsed on top of me, both of us breathing hard, our bodies slick with sweat.

Finally, he lifted his head, looking down at me with an expression I couldn’t quite read.

And then he smiled.

Reality started creeping in around the edges of my post-orgasmic haze.

I just had sex with Adrian Blackwell.

My fake fiancé.

My future boss.

My brother’s best friend.

Oh God. What had I done?

Adrian must have sensed my sudden tension because his expression shifted. “Hey, don’t tighten up on me again.”

“Too late,” I said weakly. “I’m already overthinking it.”

He pulled out carefully, making me wince slightly, and disposed of the condom before lying back down beside me. The bed was barely big enough for two people, so we were pressed close together.

“Elizabeth, we’re both adults. This doesn’t have to complicate things.”

I stared up at the ceiling. “Sure.”

“Look at me.”

Reluctantly, I turned my head to meet his eyes.

“This doesn’t change anything about our arrangement,” he said firmly. “Unless you want it to.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means this was great. Really great. But if you want it to be a one-time thing, we can pretend it never happened. Go back to being professional.” He reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “Or…”

“Or?”