Page 22 of The Fake Husband
Right now, all that matters is touching her. Tasting her. Being inside her. Claiming her thoroughly, completely.
For a second, I just look at her—flushed, breathing uneven.
My hands find her ankles first.
Slow.
My palms glide upward, thumbs tracing the curve of her calves, feeling the subtle flex of muscle beneath silk-warm skin. Nadine inhales softly, the sound barely there, but I catch it.
Higher.
My fingers drag along the backs of her knees, lingering there just to feel the way her legs twitch at the touch. I press a little firmer, smoothing my hands over her thighs, following the natural curve inward.
She trembles.
I lean forward slightly, my hands settling higher, thumbs grazing the sensitive inside of her thighs without quite giving her what she wants. Her hips shift instinctively, chasing friction.
A faint, unsteady breath leaves her lips.
"So beautiful," I say, leaning down to kiss her stomach, just below her navel. "Been dreaming about this. About you."
My hand slides between her thighs. She's soaked. Fucking drenched.
"Jesus, Nad."
"River, please?—"
Two fingers slide into her easily. Her back arches off the bed, and she lets out a low, long moan.
"You're so wet. So fucking perfect." I pump my fingers slowly, watching her face contort with pleasure. "This all for me?"
"Yes. God, yes?—"
"Good girl."
Adding a third finger, I stretch her gently, preparing her. Her hips roll against my hand. When my thumb brushes her clit, she cries out.
"You like that?"
"Yes. Don't stop. Please don't stop."
"Not stopping." I circle her clit with my thumb while my fingers continue their rhythm. "I want to feel you come first."
Her breathing grows ragged, and her internal muscles clench around my fingers. Nadine is getting restless, her body tightens, her hips shift, and her eyes lose focus.
"River, I need?—"
"I know what you need." I curl my fingers inside her. "Let go, Nad. Let me feel you."
I move with slow precision, watching her reaction more than what my hands are doing. The moment I find that hidden spark, her entire body jerks, a sharp gasp tearing from her throat. Her head falls back against the mattress, throat exposed, breath shattered.
She breaks with a whimper, her body convulsing around my fingers, walls clamping down tight. I work her through it, slower now but unrelenting, watching her face as pleasure overtakes her.
The sound that leaves her is raw and unguarded, her body arching as the tension snaps all at once. She clings to me, trembling, every muscle tightening before breaking apart.
Her lashes flutter, lips parted, cheeks flushed deeper than before.
When the tremors finally soften, I ease back just enough to see her face.
