Page 65 of Arranged To Be Mine

When I finally lost all control, it was with his name on my lips and my fingers tangled in his hair despite his earlier instructions. He kissed the inside of my thigh and rose, lips shining, eyes blazing.

“Condom,” he said, voice rough. “Top drawer.”

I fumbled the drawer open while he stripped off the rest of his clothes. The sight of him all hard, flushed, and breathing heavily made my mouth go dry. I handed him the foil packet with shaking fingers.

He rolled the condom on while his eyes locked on mine. He reached for me and slowly backed me toward the massive bed. He lifted me, depositing me on the mattress before he climbed over the top of me.

He supported his weight on his arms, his hands bracketing my face. “I don’t want reserved, Darcy,” he said. “I want the woman that sang heavy metal and banged her head.”

I swallowed. I wasn’t sure that version of me was accessible without a healthy amount of alcohol. But the way he was looking at me gave me courage. I could be that woman. For him.

“Why?” I asked softly.

He looked surprised. “Why? Why do I want you uninhibited?”

I nodded. “Yes.”

He kissed me, his tongue thrusting into my mouth once again.

He pulled back. “Because you losing control is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

He nudged inside me. The stretch burned deliciously. I clutched his shoulders, my nails digging in. He buried his face against my neck, breathing hard. “Fuck, you feel incredible. So tight. So perfect. Move with me, baby. Don’t think. Just feel.”

We found a rhythm that was more need than grace. Every thrust dragged a broken sound from my throat. He whispered the whole time. Offering praise, encouragement, and filthy promises about what he wanted to do next. I met him stroke for stroke, letting the last of my carefully maintained control slip away.

The second orgasm hit harder than the first. I cried out, clenching around him and letting him know exactly how much I liked what he was doing. He followed with a guttural groan, hips stuttering as he buried himself deep. For several long seconds, we stayed locked together, breathing the same air, sweat-slick skin pressed close.

He dropped to his side, his heavy leg still across my thigh.

“You okay?” he asked, lips against my hair.

I nodded, too wrung out for words. He kissed my temple. “Good. Because I’m not nearly finished showing you how good it feels to stop holding everything in.”

I laughed softly. “You make me sound uptight. I don’t know where you’d ever get that idea.”

He chuckled and pulled away. I watched him walk naked into the bathroom. That toned ass, long legs, and broad back were so much better than I could have imagined. He walked back out of the bathroom, still naked and giving me a full-frontal view.

“You’re very bashful,” I said.

He winked. “Nothing to be bashful about.”

His eyes raked over my body. That was when I remembered I was stretched out naked on his bed. The overhead lights weren’t on, but there was enough for him to see me.

And I couldn’t bring myself to try and hide.

He bent down and kissed me. “Don’t move. I’m going to get some water.”

I closed my eyes, letting the reality of the moment wash over me. I just had sex with my fake boyfriend. And I liked it. A lot. For the first time in forever, I wasn’t thinking about work or the next strategic move. I was in the moment, feeling everything.

Beau returned, carrying two bottles of water. I propped myself up and took one of the bottles.

“You have a lot of windows in your house,” I said.

“Yes.”

“And you just stroll around here naked?”

He shrugged. I shook my head. I couldn’t imagine being so carefree. I took a long drink, the cool water sliding down my throat. Beau sat beside me on the edge of the bed, his knee brushing mine as he sipped from his own bottle.