Fake Mating To My Ex's Powerful Enemy

Christina's POV

The suite door had barely shut when he kissed me, hard and needy. I kissed him back just as desperately, like we couldn't get enough of each other.

Just from kissing him, I could feel myself getting wet.

It wasn't just me-he was obviously hard too, his erection pressing against me through his pants.

His hands were everywhere, burning hot against my skin. He pushed me back against the wall and lifted me up like I weighed nothing. I wrapped my legs around him, pulling him closer.

I ground against him, the hard ridges of his muscles rubbing against my most sensitive spots, sending waves of pleasure through me.

"Fuck," he growled against my neck. "I've wanted this since I first saw you."

He kissed my neck, my earlobe. I gasped and pressed against him.

We tore at each other's clothes. His jacket hit the floor, then my dress. When his shirt came off, I couldn't help but stare. I ran my hands down his chest, trailing lower to his sculpted abs.

I worked his pants off completely, his hot length springing free and slapping against my face. His cock was flushed deep red, the head rounded and glistening with moisture.

So thick, I thought, reaching to wrap my hand around it, barely able to encircle him completely.

I flicked my tongue across the tip. His cock twitched in my hand immediately, burning hot and rock hard, almost like heated steel. More wetness leaked from me, the emptiness inside driving me nearly insane. I wanted nothing more than to sink down on him right then, to be filled completely in one deep thrust.

He picked me up and carried me to the bed, setting me down gently despite the hunger in his eyes. But that didn't last long.

He touched and kissed every part of me, making me moan in ways I never had before. He was incredible at foreplay, kissing my breasts, circling with his hands. He carefully stretched me with his fingers, but all I wanted was for him to get inside me already.

When he finally pushed inside me, I moaned with satisfaction-it was so intense it almost hurt.

"You feel so fucking perfect," he growled, "So tight around me."

He started moving. His cock filled me completely while his head buried deep in my neck, each powerful thrust sending waves of intense pleasure through me, easily filling the bottomless emptiness in my heart. My walls clenched and spasmed around him, my whole body trembling with ecstasy, white light flashing behind my eyes.

He pulled me tight against him and kissed me deeply. The kiss was messy and desperate, leaving me weak in his arms.

On the bed our bodies were completely entwined, him pressing me down as his hips drove relentlessly, burying his thick length inside me again and again. We held each other without any space between us, our sweat-slicked chests pressed together.

I lifted my legs, wrapping them around his waist so he could thrust even deeper and harder.

He flipped me over, positioning me with my back to him. His frame was so much larger than mine, his workout-hardened muscles solid and strong, covering me like a mountain. In this position he barely needed to exert any force,just his body weight alone let him slide impossibly deep.

"Fuck, you feel incredible like this," he groaned, his breath hot against my ear.

I felt like he was going to split me in half, terrifying waves of pleasure crashing over me as every inch of my skin became saturated with his scent.

That relentless cock was buried deep inside me, claiming me completely. I arched my neck to kiss him, trailing from his throat to his jaw to his lips, then pulled him into another deep, desperate kiss.

He fucked me through another climax, but his cock remained hard, showing no signs of pulling out. My nails dug into his arms, but he seemed immune to pain, simply gripping my ass and shifting me to my side, keeping me locked in his embrace.

"I can't... it's too much," I gasped, my words broken.

"Yes you can, baby. You're being such a good girl."

In this position he drove even deeper, his powerful thighs trapping me beneath him, my ass cheeks pressed together as his pelvis slammed against me, creating ripples across my flesh. I clawed at the sheets, wave after wave of pleasure pushing me far beyond my limits. My orgasms became short and continuous, my walls clenching nonstop, my vision blurring.

"Please... I need..." I whimpered, not even sure what I was begging for.

"I know what you need," he whispered hotly against my ear. "And I'm going to give it all to you."

He pressed against my back, his burning skin scorching mine as he held me close.

Even though I was already overwhelmed,I still tried to lift my hips to meet his movements. He clearly wasn't ready to come yet, fucking me while lowering his head to capture my earlobe between his teeth.

I was so fucked out I couldn't even form words, this was hands down the most incredible sex of my life. What the hell had I been doing with Niall all those years? That was nothing compared to this.

In the moonlight, this made him look like some kind of large predator, and I was his prey for the night,a dying gazelle or doe about to have her throat torn out. Perhaps because his full weight was pressing down on me, his thrusts weren't large in scope, but each one was deep and heavy, as if he wanted to merge with me completely and thoroughly.

He let out a muffled grunt, his cock growing even harder inside me. He nuzzled my neck, easing some of the pressure holding me down, and I turned to face him, looking into his eyes.

"Look at you, so beautiful when you're fucked out," he murmured, his hand moving to my breast.

His palm easily cupped my sweat-dampened breast, and with a forward thrust of his knee he spread my weak legs apart, sliding into me again. After what felt like my hundredth orgasm, this seemed like it would never end.

By the time he finally came,I was so exhausted I was nearly unconscious, my strength completely depleted.

He got up to clean me gently afterward, then pulled me into his arms, his breathing becoming steady and even.

I drifted off to sleep too.

The clock read 10:07 AM, way too bright for my eyes.

I groaned as last night came flooding back. The bar. My neighbor. The hotel.

The sex.

My whole body ached in the best way possible. I sat up and started searching for my clothes, trying not to make my headache worse.

I'd just pulled my skirt out from under the bed when a voice stopped me cold.

"Leaving so soon?"

I turned around slowly, partly from the hangover, partly from embarrassment, and saw him standing in the bathroom doorway with just a towel around his waist.

He was still wet from the shower, water running down his chest. His hair was slicked back and damp. Somehow he looked even better in daylight.

Images from last night hit me-his mouth on me, his hands all over me, the things he whispered in my ear.

My throat went dry.

"We need to talk," he said, and it wasn't really a question.

He stood in front of me, his voice disturbingly calm-as if he were announcing the fridge had broken, not that I had thrown him onto a bed the night before.

Talk?

My brain instantly began sorting through possibilities. Talk about what? A debrief? A review? Was he proposing some kind of "long-term sexual partnership"?

Well, considering how incredible he was in bed last night, being fuck buddies was honestly a tempting option. Oh god, could I please stop making bad decisions for once in my life?

But definitely not a proposal. That sort of thing only happens in soap operas written by people with hopelessly romantic minds.

Was he worried I'd cling to him?

After all, it was me who started this.

I was the one who dragged him out of the bar, opened the suite door and pinned him down without a second thought.

"Look," I said, adopting the most mature, responsible tone I could muster, "Last night shouldn't have happened. It was reckless. Impulsive." I paused, my gaze slipping despite itself. "And. undeniably good."

I tried not to look at his shoulders, his chest or the water droplets sliding down his collarbone, tracing over sculpted muscle. Akira stirred inside me, unnervingly interested in this man's scent.

"I'm not asking for anything from you," I went on, clearer now. "No responsibility, no dramatic phone calls. That's not who I am."

He didn't say anything. But his expression looked slightly annoyed

Seeing no reaction, I turned to the door-aiming for a graceful exit, complete with a closure monologue.

But just as my hand reached the doorknob, a warm, wet palm landed on the back of mine.

I froze and turned around slowly.

He was looking at me with an expression I couldn't place, somewhere between surprise and... seriousness.

"You don't remember me?" he asked softly.

I blinked, caught off guard. I answered quickly, almost defensively. "Of course I do. You're my new neighbor."

Technically true. Totally accurate.

That face was unforgettable, or, more precisely, that face standing in front of me in just a white towel, with water dripping down those abs... yeah. Not something easily erased from memory.

I swallowed hard.

The silence stretched.

Then he said, "It's fine. Doesn't matter."

I blinked. What?

"Can I go now?" I asked dryly. His hand still hadn't moved.

He looked at me again, then said, "Will you marry me?"