Page 115 of Merry Fake Bride

Saliva strings between our gasping mouths, his thumbs caress my nipples to stiff peaks, and then Kairo breaks away to shove his face between my breasts.

I laugh softly. He wasn’t kidding about that, was he?

The heat from his mouth gradually turns me to putty as he kisses over my breasts, lavishes overwhelming attention on each nippleuntil they’re both sensitive enough that they throb in time to my heartbeat, then he kisses me again and finally drops his hips down onto my own.

He’s fucked me before but the bulge in his pants feels new.

Different.

Like we’re completely different people.

“Please,” I gasp, raking my fingers through his hair so the dark strands stand in all directions. “I can’t wait anymore, please!”

He smirks and kisses me, then catches my lower lip between his teeth and gently tugs until the distance forces him to release me.

“That’s the begging I wanted to hear,” he murmurs.

Standing, Kairo strips himself out of the rest of his suit, but just as I hook my fingers around the hem of my panties, something on his leg makes me pause.

More importantly, his thigh.

“Kairo?”

He pauses from taking off his boxers and glances up at me.

Then, he follows my gaze to his thigh, and his expression changes. The warmth briefly melts away to pain.

Sliding forward on the bed, I reach for his thigh.

Amid the soft curls of hair lies a cluster of scarring similar to that on my back.

I know cigarette burns.

Their pain is unique.

The twisted way flesh melts and burns is something I’ll never forget.

Kairo’s scars look old, but that doesn’t change the pain in my heart as I gently skim my thumb over them.

“My father,” Kairo remarks tightly. “He was a cold man.”

Thinking back to the moment we shared on the bridge, Kairo trusted me with his pain even without my understanding the full extent.

A sudden protective urge rises within me, even if the cause of his pain is long gone.

Leaning forward, I press my lips to the warped flesh as his hand caresses the back of my head.

“I’m sorry,” I murmur.

“Don’t be,” comes his gentle reply. “We all have a past.”

I lean back and gaze up at him, then my hands join his and together, we remove his boxers and free his gorgeous cock.

Having only felt it briefly before in our tryst at the bar, this is my first time seeing it and my core clenches at the memory of it being inside me.

It’s thick and veiny, curving slightly to the left, and much larger than I remember.

Not obscene, but enough for me to realize my drunken state made things a lot easier back then.