9. Rosalie
9
ROSALIE
I’m a big, curvy girl, but I feel tiny in Boone’s arms as he carries me away from the living room and into his bedroom. It’s huge, made of wood like the rest of the cabin, with a four-poster bed and a fireplace in the corner. But once he lays me down on the mattress, the room melts away, and all I can see is Boone.
I’m still light-headed after what just happened. Nobody has ever seen me naked or made me come before, and I’m giddy with pleasure as Boone starts to strip off, unbuttoning his flannel shirt. He looms over the bed like a giant, revealing his muscular torso and thick biceps as he tosses the shirt aside.
How was I ever meant to resist this man?
His bright blue eyes burn into me as I watch him unzip his jeans. They fall to the ground until he’s wearing nothing but his boxers, the fabric straining against his hard bulge. Desire throbs between my legs, arousal dripping down my thighs as I watch Boone kick his boxers aside, his giant cock springing free.
Holy crap.
It’s thick and meaty, just like the rest of him, and a shiver runs down my spine as I take him in. Every inch of this man is big and powerful, and all my logical thoughts fly out the window as he approaches the bed. I don’t care that we’re meant to be fake dating. I don’t care that we’re breaking all the rules and crossing all the boundaries. Right now, all I care about is Boone. There’s nothing fake about the way my body reacts to him as he climbs onto the bed, positioning himself between my thighs.
“You okay, sugar?” he asks.
I nod, savoring the feeling of his body on top of mine, skin against skin. “Better than okay.”
“Good.” He smiles beneath his beard, his eyes twinkling. “You’re so damn beautiful, Rosalie. I’ve wanted you since the minute I laid eyes on you.”
His words make me glow, like liquid sunshine running through my veins. “I wanted you too. So much.”
With a hum of contentment, he kisses me softly, and I feel his hardness poking between my legs, pressing against my most intimate spot.
“You ready for this?” he asks, his voice low.
“I’m ready, Boone.” I meet his gaze, my heart pounding. “I want this.”
“Good girl.”
He keeps his eyes fixed on mine as he inches his cock inside me, easing my walls open. The unfamiliar sensation makes me suck in a breath—it’s overwhelming, like he’s pushing something way too big inside a space that’s too small. I breathe through it, never breaking eye contact, until Boone bottoms out inside me with a shuddering breath.
“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he grits out. “How does it feel, sugar?”
“It hurts a little.” I wrap my arms around his neck, squirming as I try to find a more comfortable position. “Start slow.”
“Whatever you want, Rosalie.”
He looks at me with so much affection that my heart beats wildly, and then he begins to move, sliding in and out of me in a gentle rhythm. The discomfort melts away as I adjust to his size, and pleasure takes over, his cock brushing against sensitive spots I never knew existed.
“It feels better now,” I gasp. “You can go faster.”
He grunts his assent, his hips rocking back and forth with more urgency, making us both moan with pleasure. It feels so good. He grips my hips, holding tight as our skin slaps together, his cock driving into me until I see stars. I squeeze my eyes shut, moving against him, meeting him thrust for thrust. He’s so deep, and I love it. I love the feeling of being full of him, possessed by him.
“Look at me, sugar,” he growls. “Keep those pretty eyes on me.”
I do as he says, holding his gaze as he fucks me hard. It’s so intense I can hardly breathe. Those bright pools of blue suck me in, and I feel like Boone is staring into my soul, seeing the deepest parts of me as he claims my body. The intimacy is almost too much. I’m sobbing as he pounds me deeper into the mattress, the sheets slick with my juices, and I feel my orgasm start to bloom inside me, my core tightening in anticipation.
“Oh, Boone!”
“Good girl.” He grabs my chin, forcing me to look at him. “Take my cock. Just like that.”
I don’t know where I end and he begins. The bed creaks beneath our naked bodies, the sound mingling with my growing cries as everything starts to tremble, my pleasure reaching boiling point.
“Come for me, Rosalie.” Boone’s voice is a command, deep and powerful. “I want to feel that little pussy come on my cock.”
“Oh, God!”
“You can do it, sugar. Come for me.”
Pleasure pulses between my legs, rocketing through my whole body until my vision turns white. I tremble, crying out Boone’s name as I grab at him blindly. His rhythm turns slack and I hear him groan as his cock explodes inside me, filling me with warm cum until we’re both spent and panting.
Boone eases off me and we lie in silence for a while, tangled up in the damp sheets, limbs entwined. I rest my head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat as he strokes my hair gently. I’m exhausted, but I can’t stop smiling.
Did that really just happen?
Did I really lose my virginity to my gorgeous fake boyfriend?
“That was incredible,” Boone says, pressing a kiss on my forehead. “You were so damn perfect, Rosalie.”
My grin widens and I snuggle closer to him. “You weren’t so bad yourself.”
He chuckles. “Glad to hear it, sugar.”
“We should probably get cleaned up,” I say, stretching out.
“Good idea.”
Boone carries me to the bathroom and we take a shower, washing each other with soapy hands under the hot stream of water. Once we’re dry, Boone changes the bed sheets and we climb in together, clean and warm. The bed is so comfortable it feels like I’m floating on a cloud, and when Boone wraps his protective arms around me, I instantly feel myself starting to doze off.
“Goodnight, Boone,” I mumble, melting against him.
“Goodnight, beautiful.”
And as sleep pulls me under, one last conscious thought flits through my brain.
Whatever Boone and I have sure isn’t fake anymore.
I wake up the next morning to the sound of birdsong and the crackle of a fireplace. Wiping sleep from my eyes, I grin to myself as the events of yesterday come rushing back to me. There’s a slight soreness between my legs, and my lips are still tender from Boone’s bruising kisses. It’s a delicious reminder of everything that happened, and I turn my head, expecting to see Boone lying beside me.
The bed is empty.
It must be later than I thought. I should be at Peak Sweets right now, opening up the store, but I don’t want to leave Boone’s cabin. I want to stay with him all day and hopefully have a few repeats of last night.
I’m buzzing with happiness as I pad into the living room, but Boone isn’t in here either. Shrugging on yesterday’s clothes, I check my phone, the date hitting me with a jolt.
Valentine’s Day!
I should definitely open the store. There will be plenty of customers looking for last-minute chocolates, even if I’d rather stay here with Boone. Once today is over, we’ll have the entire weekend to enjoy each other’s company. Heck, maybe he can even come with me to Peak Sweets today. I don’t think he’s ever been inside before, and I’d love to show him around.
My mind racing with plans, I head for the kitchen with a spring in my step, expecting to find Boone cooking breakfast. But as I approach, I hear his voice drifting from a room at the end of the hall. My heart flutters at the sound, and I head toward it, silently wondering who he’s talking to. He must be on the phone.
Then I hear something that stops me in my tracks.
“It’s not real.” Boone’s voice is low, agitated almost. “She’s just some girl I met on the street last week.”
There’s silence for a moment, but I don’t hang around to hear anymore. I feel like the breath has been knocked from my lungs. My eyes sting with tears, bile clogging my throat as I stumble back toward the living room.
Not real.
Just some girl.
I feel like my heart is tearing itself to shreds inside me, the pain searing my chest.
I’ve been such an idiot. God, how could I have been so dumb? So na?ve? Boone told me himself that he doesn’t believe in true love or happily ever afters. He told me this was fake dating. I knew the deal going into this, and I let myself fall for him anyway. I gave him everything, believing we could be something more than a fake couple.
Stupid. Stupid.
I need to get out of here.
With shaking hands, I rip a page from a notebook in the living room and scribble a quick note, trying to stifle my sobs. Then I pull the engagement ring off my finger. I leave it on top of the note and hurry to the guestroom, grabbing my luggage before slipping out of the front door.
I guess Boone was right about happily ever afters, I think as I drive into Hope Peak, tears streaming down my face. They really are just a fantasy.