Page 57 of Faking It With My Pucking Protector

He moans, a deep sound that vibrates through me, and his mouth crashes down on mine. The kiss is hungry, desperate, his tongue demanding.

I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him closer, my fingers digging into his skin. He breaks the kiss, trailing open-mouthed kisses down my neck.

His hands move to the back of my dress, unzipping it slowly, his fingers brushing against my skin with each movement. I shiver, arching into his touch, and he pauses, his eyes darkening with desire.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says, his voice rough, and I flush under his gaze.

He slides my dress off, leaving me in just my bra. His hands move to the clasp, unhooking it easily, and I hold my breath as he slides the straps down, baring me to him.

His eyes flicker over my breasts, and I feel exposed but not vulnerable. Not with him. He leans in, taking a nipple into his mouth, sucking gently at first, then harder, his tongue swirling, his teeth grazing.

I gasp, my head falling back, my hands tangling in his hair. I’m trembling, anticipation coiling low in my core.

“Come here,” he says, his voice hoarse, and I step closer, my hands going to his shirt, quickly unbuttoning it and tossing it aside.

His chest is broad, muscles firm and defined, and I run my hands over him, feeling the heat of his skin, the strength of him. He inhales sharply as I trace the lines of his abs.

He kisses me again, his hands moving to my panties, sliding them down my legs. As I step out of them, his gaze is intense, possessive. “I want you so bad,” he murmurs.

He pushes me toward the bed, then he undoes his belt, unzips his pants, and pushes them down his legs. He’s hard, thick, and I swallow, my mouth suddenly dry.

He joins me on the bed, kneeling between my legs, his hands on my thighs, spreading them wider. I’m exposed, open to him, and he leans down, kissing the inside of my thigh. I squirm, wanting more, but he doesn’t make me wait long.

His mouth finds me, his tongue pressing against my clit, firm and deliberate. I cry out, my hands gripping the sheets, my body arching off the bed. He eats me like he’s starving, his tongue relentless. His fingers slide inside me, stretching me, filling me.

I’m close, and I tell him, my voice shaky, desperate. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop,” I plead, and he growls, a sound that vibrates through me, spurring me on.

I come apart under his mouth, my body shaking, my cries echoing in the room. He doesn’t stop, riding out every last shudder. When he finally lifts his head, I’m boneless, breathless, and he smiles, a satisfied, wicked smile.

He leans over me to kiss me deeply, his hands roaming over my body, heat building between us again. He shifts above me, pressing closer, and I feel him hard and ready against my thigh.

Then he freezes slightly, his forehead pressing to mine, breath catching.

“Shit,” he mutters, his voice low and frustrated. “I don’t have any condoms.”

I swallow hard, my breath unsteady, my fingers still clutching his shoulders. “It’s okay,” I whisper, my voice trembling but certain. “I have an IUD.”

“Are you sure?” he asks.

I nod, pulling him closer. “I’m sure. I want this. I want you.”

A growl rumbles low in his chest as he captures my mouth again, his kiss even more urgent, more consuming. He positions himself at my entrance, his eyes locked on mine, and as he pushes inside, slow and deliberate, a broken gasp escapes me.

He thrusts into me, slow and steady, filling me completely, and my breath stutters, my nails digging into his shoulders. He’s thick, and I adjust to him, my body welcoming him.

He pulls back, then pushes in again, setting a rhythm, his movements deliberate, controlled. I meet him thrust for thrust, my hips rising to meet his, our bodies moving in perfect sync.

The room is filled with the sounds of our labored breathing and the creak of the bed. His hands grip my hips, holding me in place as he drives into me, his pace quickening. I wrap my legs aroundhis waist, pulling him deeper, and he moans, his head falling back, his thrusts becoming frantic.

“Ava,” he rasps, his voice raw, and I’m right there with him, my second orgasm building, then crashing over me like a wave.

I cry out, my body convulsing, and he follows, his release hot and intense, my name a ragged whisper on his lips. He collapses on top of me, his weight heavy but comforting, his heart pounding against mine. We lie there, breathless, our bodies still joined, the world outside fading away.

Slowly, he rolls to his side, taking me with him, his arm wrapping around my waist, his hand resting on my hip. I snuggle into his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, feeling safe, sated. His fingers trace lazy patterns on my skin, and I close my eyes, a sleepy contentment settling over me.

He kisses the top of my head, his touch gentle, and I let the warmth of him pull me into sleep.

When I wake, the sheets are tangled, my legs bare, the light soft through the curtains. For a second, I forget where I am until I catch the faint, familiar scent of him: cedar and soap clinging to the sheets. My heart stutters as last night floods back in vivid color.