Faking with Benefits : A Friends to Lovers Romance(97)

I dig my heels into the perfectly mown grass. “I don’t like getting dragged around,” I warn.

“You’ll like what comes after,” he promises flatly, pulling me behind a large, heart-shaped topiary, into a little alcove hidden by strands of hanging ivy.

I look around. He’s brought me to a sweet little private spot; a secret nook against the garden wall, shadowed by bushes and greenery. A single glass lantern swings over our heads, illuminating us.

I’m impressed. Even if someone did come wandering out into the garden, I doubt they’d be able to find us back here.

“Are we getting it on?” I check.

“Yeah,” he says, and presses me up against the wall, tugging up the silky hem of my dress without preamble.

Thank God.

My head falls back against the cool mossy brick as he crashes our mouths together. It’s a dirty kiss, full of biting and nipping, and after Josh’s gentlemanly sweetness, it’s just what I need. The cool evening disappears into a hot red haze as our skin slides together, our mouths rolling against one another.

Zack’s hand slips up my smooth thigh, cupping my crotch. “Shit. Where’d your pants go?” He mutters against my cheek.

“Josh has them.”

“Little wanker,” he mutters, slipping his thick fingers through my hot, sopping folds. “God, you’re soaked. You still got the beads in?”

I nod breathlessly, pushing my head against his shoulder and squirming over his hand. He gives a low grumble of approval, biting my bottom lip and dragging it between his teeth as he dips his fingers into me, delicately scooping out the first fat silver ball. As he tugs at it, the whole string moves deep inside me. I gasp, digging my fingernails into his arms as he slowly starts to pull the chain loose. Hot, smooth metal slides over my G spot, stimulating the sensitive nerves. I’ve been so on edge for so long, even that small touch is enough to set me off. I feel my toes curl and my thighs tense as I shudder with a sudden sharp climax.

“Good girl,” he roughs out as I pant, twisting his wrist so I can grind up against his palm. “Good, good girl.”

Heat starbursts in my belly as I rub helplessly against his hand, thrusting to get the friction I need as he gently pulls the balls out, one by one. Eventually, I’m half-collapsed against the wall, sweating and huffing, and he has the full string of beads curled between his fingers. I gape as he puts them, dripping, into the pocket of his suit. “I’ll wash ‘em later,” he says with a shrug, wrapping his forearm around my waist and hoisting me up against the wall. I naturally clap my legs together, but he grabs both of my thighs and pulls them apart, lifting them to wrap around his waist. “Open.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” I snap, fumbling at the zip of his dress trousers. It takes half a second for him to pull his throbbing erection free, line up, and thrust inside of me. I swallow back a cry of pleasure as he plunges into me.

Oh. God. That’s good. That’s right. That’s what I needed. For the first time today, I feel my entire body relax. It’s like an itch deep in my core is finally getting scratched.

He groans, pressing his rough cheek against mine as he holds still for a second, letting me get used to the sensation. “Good?”

I nod, and he pulls his hips back, slamming into me. My mouth falls open as he does it again. Again. Again. Again. He pounds me, hot and sloppy, shivers wracking his body with every thrust. His eyes are squeezed closed, like he can’t bear to look at me. I watch him blearily as pleasure rushes through me.

This isn’t how I’m used to Zack being. Normally, he likes to tease me. To drive me crazy with his mouth and his fingers, until I’m practically begging for him. But now, it’s like he’s in a frenzy. His free hand fists in my hair, tugging through it, teasing through my carefully styled curls.

“If I cared about my hair,” I pant, “you’d be in so much trouble right now.”

He doesn’t say anything, plunging into me again. My body spasms as electricity arcs through me, and I clench my thighs around his waist, using my legs to pull him closer into me. I need him closer. I need every part of us to be touching. I need him inside me. My sex is so sensitive and achy it’s almost painful. I grind against him, desperate for pressure despite the soreness. I can’t help it. I need the touch. I’m sopping wet and slowly getting more and more frantic as the pressure builds inside me.

“God,” I murmur. “Please. Please, please.”

“Please what?” He rolls his hips, hitting a sensitive spot. Wetness trickles down my thighs, and I bite back a soft noise, jerking my hips furiously against his. I’m so close.

“More,” I gasp, and he quickly obliges. Yanking down the neckline of my dress, he starts massaging my breasts. I buck, echoes of pleasure thrumming through me and squeezing my insides, and he growls, dipping his head and tugging one hardening bud into his mouth with a harsh pop. His hot wet tongue laves over the sensitive skin, and I shudder all over. The cold night air washes over my breast, sending my skin prickling.

And still, it’s not enough. I reach down between us, sliding my hand over my stomach. He grabs it, pressing it against the wall.

“No,” he growls.

“If you don’t want to touch me, I will.”

He leans forward and licks a hot line down the side of my neck, freeing my wrist and bringing his own hand between my legs as he screws me. I gasp, my body jerking as his calloused finger curls around my sweet spot.