Chapter 22 #2
“Come on, princess,” she whines, catching me further off guard with the development of a new nickname. “I don’t need the morality police. I just need a surefire way for my friends to get the hint and leave. Please,” she begs, batting her long, dark lashes at me.
I swear I’m melting into a puddle at this woman’s feet. Cleanup on aisle nine—there’s a weak bastard on his knees.
“Why on earth do you think this is a good idea?”
“Because if I tell them I’m tired and ask them to leave, they’ll know something is wrong.” Her eyes are sharp yet pleading as she pins me with her stare. “Right now, they just know I’m hiding something from them, but they don’t have any idea how bad it is.”
I release an exhausted sigh, leaning back against the wall and inadvertently grazing a hand against the robe, one I’m certain wraps around her naked body on occasion. Well, if now wasn’t just about the worst time to get a semi.
Better than at a funeral, I suppose.
“Adhira, you really need to tell them what’s going on. I assure you they would want to help,” I try to reason.
“I can’t, Elijah. It is truly not my business to share this information with you, so you’ll just have to take my word for it when I say that these women all have very good reasons to be triggered by my diagnosis.
Reasons far more pressing than the usual ones.
” Her eyes pierce my soul, begging me to understand, and tragically, I do.
“If we do this, they’ll be appeased enough by the drama to leave, and it’ll buy me more time before I have to tell them what’s really going on. ”
She looks defeated, and I just want to squeeze her, both out of frustration that she’s dragging me into her lies and because she’s so goddamn cute it hurts.
A groan rips through me, unbidden. “Fine,” I whisper-yell. “Let’s get this over with.” I turn around and swing the bathroom door open, waltzing into her room. I approach her bed and catch her wearing a triumphant little grin when I glance over my shoulder.
I hoist myself up onto the mattress, clambering into the centre, and her expression shifts to something incredulous. Her lips are downturned, and her brows climb her forehead.
“What are you doing?” she whispers, hands on her hips.
Oh, now she knows how to whisper?!
“Getting ready to fake-fuck you. What do you think?” I ask, throwing my hands up, palms to the ceiling in a What else could I be doing? expression.
“Elijah, this is not the movie Easy A! We aren’t jumping on the bloody bed! Get down,” she demands.
I roll my eyes, climbing down in defeat. “I’m sorry, I’ve never fake-fucked anyone before.” Or real-fucked, for that matter. “How am I supposed to know what this entails?”
She lets out a huff, crawling to the centre of the bed, resting back against the pile of pillows in front of her simplistic headboard—the only plain thing in her room.
We’re surrounded by trinkets, crystals, stones, strings of round light bulbs, bright tapestries, a colourful rug, and just about every shade of red, orange, and green.
She pats her thighs, drawing my attention back to the absolute work of art lying in the middle of the bed. I have to work overtime to remind my dick that this is fake. As in, not real, and definitely not a reason for the semi I’m already sporting, stiffening with embarrassing speed.
“Hurry up, princess,” she says with a smirk, her eyes dancing over my face before flitting down my body.
I suck in a deep, steadying breath, lifting myself onto the bed and crawling over her. “What now?” I ask, my voice hoarse.
She winds her arms around my neck, her fingers twining into the short strands at the nape of my neck. She pulls my body down, flush against hers, as I bracket her head with my hands.
My balls tighten, and I draw a ragged breath. “It’s just pretend, Elijah,” she reminds me. “Do whatever you normally would, but with clothes on.”
I drop my chin to my chest, a pained groan passing my lips before I can meet her gaze again. I get lost in the swirls of cinnamon dancing in her dark-brown eyes but manage to whisper, “I’m a virgin, Adhira. I’ve never done this before. Fake or not.”
A flicker of surprise flashes across her face, but she smooths it quickly.
“You aren’t missing much, based on my limited experience.
” She shrugs. “Just grind against me, and make sure it’s convincing enough for this bed to shake.
Do whatever you think is right, and I’ll make every theatre kid proud of my stellar performance. ”
“And which role are you playing?” I ask with a low chuckle.
“Horny porn star number two.” She smirks, and laughter bubbles out of me. She leans in, her warm breath brushing the shell of my ear, making my nipples fucking pebble. Christ. I need to get a grip on reality.
“You are horny porn star number one, the star of the show. Now, make me proud,” she whispers, wrapping her toned, slim legs around my waist, rocking against me.
I clench my eyes shut, trying to build a blockade between my sanity and how goddamn perfect she feels fitted against my body like this, how bloody stunning she is.
She releases a loud moan that stops my heart; my eyes burst open. She winks at me, continuing to release breathy moans, followed by surprised ones, and with every sound, my thrusts grow more ardent.
“That’s right, baby,” I praise, and we both bite our bottom lips, holding in our shared laughter. “You feel so fucking good,” I moan out, taking my part in this very seriously.
I mean, I was a theatre kid, after all. I’d like to think I’m making myself proud.
My cock grows painfully engorged, our pelvises fused together, and I feel my rigid length buried between her plump, wet folds through the ungodly thin fabric covering her pussy.
She flicks her gaze between us, her breath coming out in shallow pants, her small breasts heaving, and I can see her nipples through her baggy T-shirt.
“Elijah, you’d better tell your dick that this is fake,” she pants out.
“I’ll scold him later, I promise, but right now, I don’t think I have a say in how he reacts when you’re beneath me like this. Looking like that,” I whine, and a whimper climbs my throat.
“Looking like what?” she taunts, then moans loudly for her friends’ benefit.
I shut my eyes for another beat, sweat beading along my hairline. This is the hottest thing I’ve experienced in my entire life, and with the most gorgeous woman I have ever laid eyes on. I am so screwed.
“Perfect,” I whisper, reverent. “You look perfect.” And like you’re mine, but I have no business thinking that.
There’s a knock on her door, and we both freeze. “We’re leaving!” Chelsea shouts through the door. We remain completely still, waiting for the telltale sign of their departure.
The front door slams, and we release relieved breaths. Adhira untangles herself from me, but I don’t move a single inch. I can’t.
“Elijah…it’s time to get off me now,” Adhira chides.
“Just give me one second,” I plead. If I move now, I’ll absolutely come in my shorts. I’d need to flee the country. Get a new name. A new identity. I would simply cease to exist with that level of embarrassment looming over my head.
“Why?” she asks, then presses her lips together, brows raised. “O-oh! Got it. Nooo problem,” she says, sucking her lips between her teeth, cheeks hollowing out.
At least she has the decency to appear sheepish as I fight for my life between her legs.
It doesn’t last long before she’s smirking again and deadpans, “This is a completely normal, physiological response, princess. I won’t think less of you if you were to ejaculate right now.” My body agrees with her, despite my internal protests.
“It’s okay. Get on with it,” she urges, and her consent is quite literally all I need.
A guttural groan rips from my lips as my balls tighten, and my hips drive forward of their own accord, running my length along the flat plane of her belly.
Hot cum spills into my briefs, stars dancing in my vision, and I don’t even get to enjoy the moment because white-hot embarrassment pours over me like a bucket of water.
Adhira pats my shoulder firmly. “Excellent performance, princess. Now get off me and take a shower. You’re sweaty, and I have ice cream calling my name.”
I roll off her, grunting, as she shimmies out of the bed in her thin red pyjama pants that do nothing to hide the wet spot between her legs.
I’m going to hell for this.