Page 66 of Weddings, Revenge & Fake Dating

He’s so beautiful, it hurts.

“Touch yourself.” He holds my breasts, leaving my hands free.

My hand slips under him and between my legs. I’m already soaked. Two fingers press on my clit. As Nathan thrusts, he nudges my arm. The consistent movement rubs, causing my center to tighten.

I stick out my tongue and swipe the tip of Nathan’s crown each time he nears. He’s hot, salty, and savory. On the third lick, he unravels and moans, his face pinching.

“Fuck, Jeanie. I’m coming.”

He hisses and thrusts before his back tightens and cum shoots from his pulsing dick across my neck in hot, lacy waves.

But Nathan’s not done with me yet. After he’s finished, he face-dives between my legs.

The shock of him there, his heat and lips sucking me, takes me to the edge. I clench his hair between my fingers and come harder than I have all night. My legs quake around him as I scream.

“Nathan,” I cry out in a drawn-out whine.

He slides over me, matching his chest and hips with mine. We kiss like this could end in the next second. And then I realize, it will. It will end.

But for tonight, I’ll take as much as I can. I won’t even sleep.

After a shower, we wrap ourselves in towels and lie together on the bed. Tucked under his arm, we watch the morning sun rise on the horizon. Birds chirp. The hotel stirs. The world outside comes into focus. We pillow-talk as we drift, boneless with exhaustion.

“How can you go down on me for so long? Don’t you need air?” I ponder the half-joke out loud.

“I’m not a mouth breather; I’m a nose breather.”

We laugh quietly, our shoulders jiggling.

“But I could use some help on my lap dances. You’ll have to teach me those headboard moves.” His fingers coil around a strand of my wet hair.

“You’re never going to let me forget that, are you?”

“Your twerking ass lives rent-free in my brain.” He taps his forehead.

“Stop!” I bury my face in his chest.

“Did you happen to try the Wolf tickler?” he asks.

“Tickle what?” I’m losing consciousness. I’m too tired to think.

The last thing I register Nathan saying is, “It’s hidden in a secret compartment with the twin butt plugs. Maybe we’ll try . . .”

Sleep catches up to me before I can decipher the rest.

My respite doesn’t last long, though.

Only a handful of hours pass before I wake, my face smashed into my pillow. My arms and legs are arranged like a shipwreck. Sunlight floods the room, which means it’s afternoon.

The coffee machine kicks on and off. Footsteps pad across the room and the air pressure near me changes. Nathan rests a comforting hand on my shoulder and rubs.

“Jeanie, I made you an espresso.”

“I’m awake.” I sit up and brush away my tangled hair. I yawn and rub my face, wiping the sleep from my eyes.

“Barely.” He hands me a tiny cup.

“I couldn’t sleep. Some dude wouldn’t stop giving me orgasms.”