Page 102 of Playing Pretend
I groan, mindless, clinging to his shoulders, scratching his back. I buck into him, meeting his thrusts, crazed for more.
When his touch descends farther, his hand moving between us for his thumb to find my clit, I almost climax on contact.
“Rome.” I arch my back.
“Keep saying my name, little Pip.” He bends, consuming my nipple in his mouth. “Keep begging and I’ll always deliver.” He thrusts deeper, faster, that thumb adding pressure right where I need it. “I can’t wait for that sweet cunt to milk me dry.”
I gasp, coming undone. My core flutters like a thousand twinkling lights, every limb tingling.
His mouth steals mine and he moans into the contact, the vibration getting louder, throatier as he pistons. He follows me into bliss, his hands everywhere, his love endless.
We kiss, and kiss, and kiss through the euphoria, his hips pounding into me, my lungs burning for air, our bodies slick with sweat.
“No going back,” he whispers against my lips as the high recedes.
“No going back.” I nod, melting into a breathless puddle against the mattress.
He keeps kissing me even though his thrusts fade. A divinely sweet contact. One that curls my toes and fills me with love.
“You’re more than I’d imagined, Pip. More than I’d hoped.” He peppers butterfly kisses to my shoulder. “And I had huge hopes.”
My eyes burn.
Being with him is beyond everything—hopes, dreams, imagination. When I pictured us together, I always envisaged the romantic scenes, the perfect visual. But I never conceptualized the sensations that would course through me. I never could’ve anticipated the way my insides are currently filled with happiness.
“I don’t want to leave.” I place a palm against his chest, needing the grounding of his heartbeat as he rolls onto his side, dragging me along with him.
“Then don’t.” He keeps me held tight to his chest, one arm beneath me to hug my back, the other hand possessive on my thigh. “I plan to stay like this forever.”
“I’d love to.” My heart has never been so full, my body this delightfully sore. “But soon I’ll have to start thinking about going home. Rett will assume we’re still fighting. He’ll be worried.”
“I’m sure he knows exactly what we’ve been doing.” He places his lips to my hairline. “He knows how I feel about you.”
I push away to meet his gaze, his wickedly dark eyes greeting mine. “Since when?”
“Since a few minutes after he took the liberty to announce I was going to be your fake boyfriend at the resort.”
“No way.”
“Yeah. I warned him if I tagged along I wouldn’t be playing pretend. Rett knew our time at Laguna Beach was going to be real for me.”
“And he didn’t say anything?” I gape.
“I think he understood how delicate the situation was.”
That’s why Rett discarded my hysteria as if it were nothing when I told him Rome kissed me. He was trying to calm me down. To give Rome more of a chance of success. It’s also why the bastard lied about Stacey tonight.
“He’ll be happy for us.” Rome kisses my temple then pushes from the bed to walk to his private bathroom.
I pull the coverings over me and admire every step he places between us, his toned ass flexing in the moonlight.
I want him again.Already. Despite the soreness between my thighs and my complete exhaustion.
The faucet turns on. There’s a slosh of water. Then silence.
A few seconds later he returns to the room, his full-frontal display equally as impressive as the back.
“Are you ready for that snack yet?” He returns to the bed, sliding under the covers beside me, pulling me close with an arm around my hips.
