Page 64 of Campus Fake

When I pulled back, her eyes were dazed and her cheeks flushed pink.

“Happy New Year,” she whispered.

I leaned down, my lips brushing the shell of her ear so only she could hear me. “I want to start this year how I plan to spend the rest of my life. Buried between your perfect thighs.”

She sucked in a sharp breath. Her fingers tightened on my shirt and her eyes went wide before they went dark.

“Harry.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. Wrecked already and I’d hardly touched her yet.

I grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the stairs without another word. Behind us, Liam’s voice carried over the noise. “And there they go! Happy New Year to us all, but especially to Gordy.”

I didn’t look back. Liam was one to talk. I had no doubt he was two seconds from taking Ava somewhere private and fucking her blind. The rest of the guys would do the same. Kissing wasn’t enough when our women deserved to start the new year being ravished.

Sam’s grip was tight on my hand as she followed me up the stairs, the music and laughter fading with each step until we reached my room and I pushed the door open.

The second it closed behind us, I turned and her mouth joined mine. The kiss was hot and urgent, her hands shoving my shirt up my chest. I pulled it over my head and tossed it. Her palms were on me immediately, sliding over my abs, my chest, nails dragging lightly down my sides in a way that made every muscle in my torso clench.

I backed her toward the bed, found the hem of her slinky gold dress, and pulled it up over her hips, past her gorgeous bare breasts and over her head, throwing it in a heap on the floor.

She stood before me completely naked. Fuck me, if I’d known she wasn’t wearing underwear, I would’ve had my head between her legs in an instant. I’d known she wasn’t wearing a bra—the dress hadn’t allowed for one—and I silently thanked whoever had designed it.

I let my gaze drag over her body. The full curve of her breasts, the dip of her waist, the flare of her hips. I’d seen her naked a handful of times now, and it still made my brain short-circuit.

“You get more beautiful every time I look at you.”

“I think you’re a little biased,” she murmured.

“I think you’re stunning.” And hell yeah, I was biased. I was allowed to be. The most beautiful woman in the world was in love with me.

I stepped into her space, my hand cradling her jaw as I tilted her face up, brushing her lips with mine. I kissed her slow, taking my time despite every instinct screaming at me to take her hard and fast. I needed to make sure she was ready, and my woman’s pleasure always came before mine.

Sam’s hands were at my belt, working it open with quick efficiency. She shoved my pants and boxers down and wrapped her hand around my cock before I’d even stepped out of them. My forehead dropped to hers and I groaned.

“Sam.”

“Mmm?” She stroked me firm and slow, her thumb sliding through the moisture at the tip, spreading it in a teasing circle that made my jaw clench.

She sank to her knees before I could stop her. I should’ve known. Sam loved this. She’d told me as much the first time she’d had me in her mouth, and every time since, she approached it with this single-minded enthusiasm that turned my brain to static.

She licked the tip slowly, her blue eyes staring up at me, watching for the exact moment my composure slipped. That was her thing now. She got off on taking me apart, piece by piece, until the man who barely spoke more than ten words at dinner was cursing, pulling her hair, and forgetting his own name.

“You’re so quiet right now,” she murmured against the head of my cock. “I’m going to fix that.”

She took me into her mouth, her tongue flat against the underside, and sucked deep enough that my hand shot to the back of her head. My fingers threaded through her blonde hair and I gripped. She loved this too—when I exerted a little control over her. Her moan vibrated around me, and my hips flexed forward on instinct.

“Fuck, Sam.” It came out guttural.

She pulled back just enough to speak, her lips swollen and glistening. “There he is.” That satisfied grin. Like she’d just scored a goal on me and wanted to make sure I knew it. “More of that, please.”

She took me deeper, her hand working what her mouth couldn’t reach, her rhythm steady and relentless. She hollowed her cheeks and my head tipped back. I couldn’t watch anymore because if I kept looking at her on her knees with my cock in her mouth and that look on her face, this was going to be over embarrassingly fast.

But she wanted me to watch. She pulled off and waited. The second my gaze dropped back to hers, she licked a slow stripe up my length and took me in again.

My grip tightened in her hair and I held her there, controlling the depth, and the moan she made was so fucking sexy. She loved being held and guided. She was in charge of everything else in her life, but here she let me steer and got off on it just as much as I did.

“Enough.” My voice sounded wrecked. I pulled her up by her hair and she came willingly, a flush across her chest and her eyes glazed with want.

“I wasn’t done.”