My Fake Husband by Black, L. (motivational novels TXT) 📕

I sprawled out on the bed, undone, my limbs loose and relaxed. He smiled a little smugly.

Then he scooted up behind me and pulled me back against his chest, cuddling me close. I felt him wrapped around me, so warm and safe, that I let my eyes drift shut. If it hadn’t been for the long, hard cock prodding against my butt I would have drifted off to sleep. Instead I laughed.

“I wore you out too much,” he said ruefully.

“Not that much,” I said slyly.

I rolled over to face him. He reached out and looped my leg over his hip. He pulled me flush against him, my oversensitive nipples brushing his hard, muscled chest. I tipped my face up and he kissed me deeply, giving me slow open-mouthed kisses until I felt molten and undone. I unzipped his jeans, felt his cock, big and hot in my hand. One hand in the small of my back, he tilted me closer, so our bodies aligned. I could feel the head of his cock hot and slick against my sex. I worked back and forth over his length. Rubbing my slippery folds over his hard rod, teasing him and myself equally. It wasn’t easy for him to let me take the lead, but his eyes said he was hypnotized by the rock of my hips, the wetness that awaited him. I wrapped a hand around his cock, shocked by how thick he was. I shoved his jeans down and let him kick them away. His skin was hot and velvety smooth, so soft, and I wanted all of it for myself.

Damon dragged me against him, his rigid length sliding against my folds as he aligned my body with his. He held me hard, pressing me down onto his pelvic bone and rocking. My eyes flew open wide and my mouth gaped. That pressure, relentless and tucked close, inescapably against my clit, was the sharpest, truest pleasure I had ever felt. I met his eyes, and he leaned his forehead to mine, “Trust me,” he said, and gripped my hips, rocking me up and down, keeping my throbbing clit in constant contact with the ridge that made jolts of icy champagne bubbles explode in my chest and shook me with a devastating orgasm, so fast, so fierce. I squealed with bright ecstasy, sounding like I was excited to find exactly what I wanted under the Christmas tree. He laughed.

“God, you’re beautiful when you come.”

He lowered us gently on to the soft mattress and covered me with his big, hard body. The big shaft between my thighs was twitching and jerking with anticipation. He took one of my legs and hooked it around him. In one slow glide, he impaled me with his cock, stretching me and going in so deep it seemed I could feel him in my throat as I bucked, spreading my legs to make room for him, taking all of him in that heavy, relentless slide punctuated with a thrust as he drove home, and I took him all the way to the hilt.

“All. Mine,” he said, his teeth gritted. He drew out and thrust back in, pumping and with every pounding thrust into my body he ground out the words, “All. Mine.”

His length was so hard and unforgiving, the girth almost more than I could stand. I arched and trembled, gripped his biceps and tipped my chin up. He dipped his head, sucked my neck as he thrust into my body that was so stretched, so tight. The lewd, wet sound of him pumping into me made me moan with pleasure. I was thrashing and saying his name, my nipples rubbing his chest as he moved rhythmically inside me. With one hand he reached down and scissored my clit between his fingers. “Yes, oh, Damon! Damon!” I cried as I tightened and pulsed around him wildly.

His thrusts grew frantic, less controlled, fast and hard until I felt his arms tense in my grip and he seemed to rear off the bed like some great beast and charge into me with a sound like a roar. I felt the liquid rush of his pulsing climax within me. With a shudder, he collapsed, tried to roll off of me as he did, but I grabbed his back and held him fast to my chest, relishing the weight of him, the sweat filming his hot skin as he gathered me against him, breathing hard.

“My God,” he said, rolling onto his back and taking me with him. I nestled into his chest, our legs still tangled together. He had both arms wrapped securely around me, and tucked his chin on top of my head. “That was incredible. We were incredible.”

“Yeah,” I said breathlessly, “I didn’t even know it could be like that, with you looking in my eyes and—” I broke off, feeling that I was embarrassing myself.

“You’re right. It’s never been like that before for me.”

After a few moments of catching our breath, I snuggle in close. “I was really scared, Damon. You could’ve been hurt or killed in that fire.”

“It’s the nature of the job. I knew that when I started training for it. I grew up with my dad doing this, and it’s normal for me. You tell him bye, say a prayer that he comes home safe, and let go of the anxiety. Because you can’t control it, any of it. The fact is, the risks of my job make it pretty hard to find a relationship though.”

“I can see why. It would be horrible to live like that, in constant fear that your partner wouldn’t come home, that your boyfriend or your husband would walk out the door and that would be the last time, that he’d just die trying to put out a fire, and maybe somebody he saved is walking around living their life and it cost him his own. I can’t imagine trying to survive that, not