Page 48 of Don't Fall For Your Fake Boyfriend

We move in unison to the bed, and as soon as his knees hit the mattress, he sits down. I move between his legs, and his hands rub along my waist.

He’s eye level with my stomach, and he gazes up at me. “You turn me on so fucking much, Willow.”

My hand flies through his hair as my other hand rests atop his shoulder. I could easily straddle his lap right now, but his fingers move across my knee, and slowly trace upward. “Brock,” I whisper.

A small smile lifts his lips as his hand goes under my dress. He keeps moving up, up, and up and then his hand bunches around the panel of my panties and he drags his hand down, bringing my panties with it. “These panties are mine now.”

I step out of them. “Brock,” I whisper again because I want him to keep going. I don’t ever want him to stop. “Please,” I beg of him.

He brings the panties to his nose and inhales deeply, causing me to blush slightly. “I own these now. And I’ll be using them every day to jerk off into.” He fists the red panties in his hand, and unzips his pants with the other. He pulls his hard flesh out and rubs my panties over his dick.

It’s hot.

Very hot.

“Wow,” I say, licking my lips. “I like watching you do that.”

His eyes shoot back up to mine and he smiles. The smile nearly takes my breath away. He’s just so gorgeous. And endearing, and everything.

I feel myself falling harder, but there’s no stopping it. My chest hurts, and I can’t stop the want and need swimming throughout my system.

“You like this?” he asks, raising a brow while his hand continues to jerk himself off with my panties.

I nod. “I do. I’m so turned on, Brock.”

His smile widens. “You need me to get you off, don’t you?”

I nod again. “Yes. Please.”

“Dress off, now,” he demands.

I quickly do as he asks, not wanting to endure another one of his punishments. I smile at him as I step away and remove my dress. I’m standing completely nude for him, not wearing a bra with the dress, and his eyes drink me in.

“You’re so fucking pretty, Willow. How have I never noticed just how pretty you were?”

I shrug. “Because you hated me.”

He shakes his head. “No, I never really hated you, Willow. In fact,” he blushes, “I actually had a small crush on you in middle school.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I’d pull your hair to get your attention, and you hated me.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me you liked me?”

He gives me a coy smile. “I was twelve. I didn’t know how to act around my older sister’s best friend. You all thought I was a pain in your asses.”

I laugh. “Well, that’s true.” I step closer, and his arms rest on my hips as he kisses along my torso. “I don’t think that way now,” I whisper.

His eyes glance up quickly. “Good,” he says before lifting my one leg up to rest beside him on the bed. He leans back, bringing my pussy over his mouth, and we move until I’m straddling his face with him lying flat on his back.

“I’ve never done this before,” I tell him. “What if I suffocate you?”

He hums along my slippery folds. “Impossible.” He nips at my clit, and sinks his fingers into the flesh of my hips as he rocks me over him.

I’m riding Brock Atwood’s face and it feels soooooo good.

My mind tries to process a million things all at once. Like the fact that Brock had a crush on me once upon a time. Or the fact that everyone thinks we’re a couple. Also, the fact that Brock Atwood is giving me one of the most epic orgasms I’ve ever had in my life.