Twisted Lies: A Fake Dating Romance

“That’s all I needed. Thank you for your time,” Julian said.

We’d just finished our last interview for my Washington Weekly profile. We’d had a series of conversations themed around different aspects of my life over the past few weeks, and today, we’d discussed my fashion line for a good fifteen minutes after I mentioned it in passing.

It was off the record since Delamonte wouldn’t appreciate me talking about my own brand in a story that was supposed to be about them, but I was excited to discuss it with someone who wasn’t Christian or my friends. It made it more real.

“Of course. Let me know if you have any additional questions,” I said warmly.

“I will, and I’ll email you when the story is live. Congratulations again on everything.”

I hung up and stretched with a yawn. It was late afternoon, but I felt like I’d been up for twenty-four hours straight. I’d finished all the samples for my collection last week and had spent the day taking photos of them for future marketing materials.

I was used to photoshoots, but I hadn’t realized how much harder it was to take product photos for a website versus a blog.

Pieces from the shoot were scattered all over the room, including props, clothing, and camera equipment.

I forced myself off the couch so I could tidy up the mess before Christian came home.

Our dinners were my favorite part of the day. He always came home early enough to help with the cooking (though I suspected that was partly because he didn’t trust me near the oven after the smoke alarm incident), and we spent the nights unwinding and talking.

I liked fancy dates and galas as much as the next girl, but nothing made me happier than simply spending time with someone I—

“Sorry I’m late.”

I straightened and lit up when Christian walked in.

I finally understood why my friends gushed over their significant others. Every time I saw him or heard his voice, the butterflies went crazy.

“I had to get more salsa.” He kissed me and placed his shopping bag on the coffee table.

I brightened further.

“Is that the brand that I like?” I recognized the name stamped on the bag. It was the only grocery store in the city that carried my favorite salsa.

“Yes.” Christian’s mouth tipped up when I squealed and peeked inside the bag. The grocery store was on the other side of the city, so I rarely made it out there even though it stocked some of my most loved, hard-to-find items.

The sight of the two glass jars made me inordinately happy. It wasn’t the salsa per se; it was the fact that he’d gone out of his way to buy them for me.

“Congrats, you just won the Boyfriend of the Week award.”

“Did I?” He placed his hands on my hips while I looped my arms around his neck. “What’s my reward?”

“This.” I gave him another, longer kiss and smiled at his soft groan.

It was only when I ran my hand down his back that I noticed the tension bunching his muscles.

I pulled back and examined him with a small frown. “Is everything okay? You seem tense.”

“Yes.” Christian’s expression didn’t flicker. “Just a minor irritation at work.”

“Hmm.” I worried about him sometimes. He had an important job, but all that stress wasn’t good for anyone.

Despite my best efforts to convince him, he also refused to take up yoga or meditation.

An idea sparked in my head. It was so out of character I almost dismissed it out of hand, but I was a new, bolder me. I could try new things.

Maybe.

“Sit on the couch.” I tamped down the uprising of nerves in my stomach and kept my voice casual. “I can think of something that’ll help you relax.”

Christian did as I asked.

“Another massage?” he drawled, but his eyes darkened when I sank onto my knees before him.

“Sort of.” I reached for his belt. His hand gripped my wrist before I made contact, and the air shifted into something heavier, more condensed.

“What,” he said, his voice dropping to a rough pitch that made my thighs clench. “Are you doing?”

“I told you.” I pulled my wrist free from his grasp and unbuckled his belt, my heart fluttering like a nervous hummingbird’s. “I’m helping you relax.”

Christian and I took turns initiating sex, but I’d never been so bold about it.

Usually, all it took was a certain look or smile from me and he got the hint. But this…this was way outside my comfort zone.

He didn’t stop me again, but the heat of his gaze settled low in my stomach.

My mouth dried when I finally worked him free of his pants.

He was already hard, his arousal thick and dripping with pre-cum. He let me set the pace as I slowly took him down my throat, but he was so big I had to pause every few seconds to adjust.

Eventually, however, I took him to the hilt and stayed there for a minute with my lips stretched wide against the base of his shaft.

I hummed with pride before I started moving. Slowly at first, then faster as I got more comfortable with his size and the angle.

Christian let out a low curse and tangled his hands in my hair when I settled into a rhythm, licking and sucking until his muscles tightened beneath my touch. I flattened my tongue and ran it along the underside of his cock as I withdrew, then gently sucked the head and slid him all the way down my throat again.

His grip tightened on my hair.

“Fuck, Stella.” Christian’s tortured groan sent another arrow of lust to my core. “That feels so fucking good, sweetheart.”

I moaned with satisfaction and redoubled my efforts. Drool leaked from the corners of my stuffed mouth and dripped down my chin, but I didn’t stop.

The blowjob was for him, but every groan and slide of his heat against my tongue pulsed between my legs like it was for me.

I loved knowing that I could turn him on like this. That I could give and take pleasure at will.

I was on my knees, but I had the power to bring him to his.

“I knew you could take it. Every inch, just like that.” His praise washed over me as I gagged around the base of his cock. “Good girl.”

The ache deepened, and I couldn’t take it anymore. I shifted positions so I could grind against his leg while I increased my pace and savored the hot, erotic taste of him.

It was easier for me to come when I was grinding on something versus using my fingers, and the firm pressure against my clit mixed with the filthy, sloppy sounds of the blowjob drove me higher toward release with each passing second.

I was drenched and probably making a mess of his pants, but I was too lost in a fog of lust to care.

“I can feel how wet your cunt is.” Christian pulled my head back so I stared straight up at him, my eyes watering from taking him so deep for so long. “Does this turn you on, hmm? Grinding against my leg while you choke on my cock?”

“Mmmph.” My muffled moan of affirmation cut off in a gasp when he abruptly pulled me off him, picked me up, and pushed me against the window in one fluid motion.

Desire pooled between my legs at the press of glass against my cheek and the heat of him at my back.

I loved when he was like this.

Rough. Demanding. A beast uncaged.

Christian yanked my dress straps off my shoulders and pulled the bodice down to bare my breasts.

“When you come…” He rucked the skirt up with his other hand and hooked his finger in the waistband of my underwear. “It’ll be with my cock inside your pussy, not your throat.”

I heard the tear of lace and the unmistakable rip of foil.

Then he was inside me, fucking me so deep and hard the living room echoed with the sounds of my cries.

My hands splayed against the window, which fogged with my gasping breaths.

It was made of tinted glass so people couldn’t see inside, but there was still something so deliciously dirty about being taken against it while people went about their lives outside, oblivious to what was happening above their heads.

Christian pounded me savagely, with sharp, brutal thrusts that scrambled my thoughts into nothing.

There was no trace of the refined CEO. No suits, no polite charm, only his cock filling me up and his hand around my throat while he fucked me like an animal from behind.

His length stretched my inner muscles in a tight burn as I stood on tiptoes trying to take him deeper. Every scape of my rock-hard nipples against the cold glass sent another spark to the inferno building at the base of my spine.

Harsh breaths and needy whimpers mingled with the slap of flesh against flesh and the wet, slick sounds of his cock drilling into me.

The filthy symphony swirled around us, dragging me higher and higher until I crescendoed toward orgasm.

“Christian, please.” His grip on my throat stole my screams and turned them into hoarse pleas. “I need…I’m going to…”

I lost the rest of my sentence to another wave of pleasure when he reached around to stroke my clit.

Once. Twice. Just enough to deepen the ache, but not enough to break the leash on my swelling release.

“I love when you beg so sweetly for me.” He buried his face in my neck and nipped at the skin. “Do you need to come, hmm?”

“Yes.” My answer spilled out in a sob.

“Then be a good girl and push that pretty little cunt back on me.”

I obeyed without thinking. I arched my back so I could fuck back at him while he gripped my hips with both hands and slammed me onto him. Broken squeals and whimpers fell out as my body shook like a rag doll’s from the combined force of our efforts.

“Just like that,” he groaned. “You look so beautiful like this, spread wide with my cock buried inside that tight pussy.”

Electricity replaced the blood in my veins. I was lit up from the inside out, a live wire of sensation that he stoked hotter with every thrust.

Christian’s hold on my throat tightened while he reached around and pinched my nipple with his other hand.

“Come for me, sweetheart.”

That was all it took.

My orgasm finally broke free. It crashed through its restraints and consumed me whole, sending a wave of heat from the top of my head to the tips of my toes.

My body bowed from the intensity of the pleasure, and I would’ve collapsed onto the ground had Christian not been holding me up.

I was still floating on my high when he turned me around and lifted me up so my back was against the glass and my legs hooked around his waist.

He hadn’t come yet, but his strokes slowed into a gentler rhythm.

“I love feeling you come around me.” He kissed his way up my neck to my mouth. “You are fucking perfect.”

The words hit me somewhere deep and vulnerable.

Emotion lodged in my throat, but I wrapped my arms around his neck and rode him faster, more comfortable with taking the lead than examining the feelings his statement brought to the surface.

Christian’s breaths harshened. His muscles went taut, and I could feel him throbbing inside me before he finally came with a loud groan.

We held each other in the come down, our skin slick with sweat and our foreheads pressed against each while we caught our breath.

“So,” I panted. “Do you feel more relaxed?”

His laugh rumbled against my skin and made me smile. I loved pulling a real laugh out of him. They were more common these days, but they were still sources of pride.

“Yes, Butterfly. I do.”

“Good.” I clung to him as he carried us to the shower.

If I were with anyone else, I never would’ve found the courage to do what I’d just done. The fear of rejection would’ve been too strong, even with someone I was dating.

But that was one of my favorite things about Christian. I could be who I was and who I aspired to be in equal measure.

I never had to worry when I was with him.