Cinderella Is Faking It (Princess Crossover Series Book 1) by Dilan Dyer

Author:Dilan Dyer [Dyer, Dilan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dilan Dyer Books
Published: 2023-09-14T16:00:00+00:00

TWENTY-EIGHT

If i’d thought it had been glorious to see Del lie spread out, dazed and glowing with heated cheeks, covered in my cum - that was nothing against seeing her writhe on the mattress, playing with herself, playing with my cum. She was breathing hard, her legs twitching, and I mentally cheered her on, but the moment passed, and her limbs dropped back to the island as if nothing had happened.

I slipped back through the flimsy curtain before the self-doubt could fester in her mind. “What are the chances you’ll let me eat that pussy right now?” I asked, putting on a wide grin because I knew the chances were next to zero, but I wanted to pull her from the depth of her thoughts.

To my surprise, she hesitated before shaking her head. “Not tonight.”

“Fair enough. We’ll just have to come back tomorrow,” I said, wiping the traces of my orgasm from her skin with a wet wipe.

Twenty minutes later, we were in my car, on our way back to my place, her head leaning against my shoulder. “What happened after I left you on that island?” I asked, watching the buildings zip past in the dark.

“You saw?”

“Yeah. You were mesmerizing.”

She sighed. “It felt… free. Everyone there liked sex. Nobody was going to judge me for wanting to touch myself with your cum on my hands. The further we get from the club, the sillier it feels, but in that moment, I just wanted-”

“You don’t have to feel ashamed for what you want, Del. It’s not silly.”

“It doesn’t make sense. I hate wet kisses on my skin. But I wanted to have traces of you inside of me. Not on me. In me. I don’t know. It sounds stupid.”

“Come here.” I pulled her into my lap, opened that silk jacket and shoved her dress up to her waist, her bare ass resting against my legs, her pink pussy opened wide and still glistening. I sucked two of my fingers into my own mouth and released them covered in a thin sheen of spit. “Ride my hand.”

“What?” She looked down at my hand in the space between us, chest trembling. “Just like that?”

“Just like that.” I widened my knees to spread her legs further and positioned my fingers at her entrance, barely opening her up. She let out a small gasp and gripped my shoulders for support. “Ride.”

“Your driver,” she protested, tilting her hips ever so slightly to slide onto my hand a little, desire already winning against her doubts.

“Can’t hear past the sound-proof partition,” I explained anyway.

Her lips fell open in wonder and pleasure as she took my fingers down to the knuckle, then started rolling her hips back again. Her eyes dropped to where our bodies connected, my fingers glistening before she pushed herself onto them again. Once she’d tested out how to tilt her hips, I met her accelerating movements, each thrust growing faster, more desperate.

“Beck, I can’t,” she whimpered and stopped moving mid-thrust, grasping at my shirt.

“Talk to me.

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