Page 80 of The Great Dating Fake Off
Damn it.
Sometimes the truth is really fucking inconvenient. And the truth is I didn’t think I was lonely. I didn’t believe it, even when Alessia made her comments. Even when I looked at other couples and felt a stirring of something, a melancholy that isn’t jealousy because I know my relationships won’t look like that.
I didn’t know I was lonely until right now, waking up…not alone.
Nora makes me want things I didn’t know I wanted.
Awareness floods me as I stretch, careful to not jostle us. I’m hard, situated between her thighs, and don’t want to make it her problem.
She moves in one lithe motion, rubbing against me like she’s trying to get comfortable.
I thread my hand behind her neck. Her pulse is racing. “Are you awake?”
“Mmhmm.”
I pull her higher on my chest to see her face. It’s not even bright enough to make out her features. We’re operating on feeling and sensation only. “How awake?”
“Very.” Her hand weaves into my hair. “I need to go.”
“Right.” I clear my throat, dreading the loss of her weight on me. “Don’t want to risk some early riser seeing you come out of my room.”
She pauses. The dark thrums with anticipation.
I should let her roll off me and go about her day.I should get very comfortable with the idea of letting her go.
Instead, I ignore all the damn shoulds. “Come here.”
Her warm lips play against mine, lazy and sweet. Our foreheads fall together.
Her hand wraps around where I’m hard for her.
She makes goodbyes very challenging.
“Five more minutes?” I ask gruffly.
Her lips land on mine in invitation, hard and hungry. No pretense, no sleep-addled follow-up questions, just need.
It would seem our needs are aligned.
My hands roam her body in the dark, tunneling in her shirt, stroking two very hard nipples, sliding down her ribs, passing over the two tiny dimples of her back to get to her ass.
She kisses and licks her way to my ear and takes it between her teeth, tugging lightly. “Hi.”
That little “hi” screams I’m ready to pounce.
She sits up, straddling my torso with her knees pinned to the bed. In a flash, she strips off her shirt—my shirt—and tosses it aside.“Do you have another condom?”
“Getting right down to business, are we?” I lean up and take half her breast in my mouth, too greedy to stop at just a nipple, sucking and flicking my tongue until she bucks against me.
Her voice is all breath. “I plan to use our time wisely.”
Gripping her hips, I fall back against the pillow and guide her up my body. My eyes are adjusting enough to make out her features. “So do I. Come here.”
A shocked cry leaves her mouth as she falls forward, bracing on the headboard. I position her just how I want her and tease her with a few blown breaths, letting her settle over my face.
She looks down, lips parted in anticipation, and I think it’s shocking there aren’t more famous statues and photographs created from this vantage point. This woman is art. “Are you sure?”
I answer with a thick drag of my tongue, and then another. Her exhale is a burst as I set to work, testing what she likes. When her hips start to move, I encourage her with a few words pressed right against her center. Her legs tense as I talk—shit, I like that she likes that—and I do it again, adding a finger. I gauge the exact moment she loses herself to the sensations, because now she’s making noise. Desperate, coaxing cries that make me ache to bury myself inside her.
