His Fake Fiancée by Fiona Murphy

Author:Fiona Murphy
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Billionaire romance, alpha male romance, hispanic romance, interracial romance, BBW romance, curvy romance, curvy woman romance, fake romance, fake relationship romance, boss romance, workplace romance
Publisher: Fiona Murphy
Published: 2020-10-05T00:00:00+00:00

12

Christina

“Ivan, it’s almost nine o’clock. I really do have to go home soon, at the very least to relieve the nurse.” I moan as he licks all over my neck.

This man is insatiable. I have lost count of how many times he has fucked me and the number of orgasms I have had. Even when he wasn’t fucking me he was buried inside me like he is right now.

The only exception was for almost thirty whole minutes when he cooked me dinner and fed me, ending with the dessert of his cock in my mouth. He wouldn’t even give me five minutes while I called Abuelo and used the excuse of work for being late. Ivan had me sitting on his cock and was playing with my breasts as I tried not to gasp at what he was doing to me.

I have studied every inch of his gorgeous body, my prize for him staying inside me. Licking my way over his muscled chest, tracing my fingertips over what I swear is not a six-pack but an eight-pack. I can’t get enough of him so I don’t really mind his greedy hunger for my body.

Nothing about today was what I imagined it would be. It’s incredibly intimate, not just the sex. It’s the way Ivan mounted a full-scale interrogation of my most personal thoughts, memories, and likes. He wanted to know everything from my favorite foods, favorite artist, to when I knew I wanted to paint. At first, he wasn’t as open about his past as he demanded me to be, but when I told him that I wouldn’t answer his questions until he answered mine he changed his mind.

This was supposed to be just mindless fucking, except it felt nothing like it, or maybe I’m wrong. Considering this is only the second relationship I’ve ever had, but it doesn’t feel like it. I don’t want to go home. But I also don’t want to face a questioning Abuelo and I’m exhausted in the best way.

His hands go into my hair. Why do I love it so much when he does that? He licks my bottom lip before sucking on it. I swear it goes straight to my clit and I clench tight around his cock. Ouch.

He pulls back. “Are you okay?”

His concern hits me right in the tummy. I bury my head in his chest. “I’m sore. I’m sorry.”

He swears in three different languages. “I’m sorry. Fuck, I’m so damn sorry.” Gently, he lifts me off him. “I wanted you sore but I never meant to hurt you.”

The tortured expression on his face tears at me. I press my hand against his cheek. “Hey, it’s okay—”

Shaking his head, he grasps my wrist. “No, it isn’t. Damn it, Christina, don’t let me off easy. I should have stopped sooner. You’re not just mine to have but to protect and take care of. Nothing hurts you. Not even me.”

Don’t cry, don’t cry, it will definitely ruin this. Ivan keeps backing away from me.

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