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Damien
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His Fake Fiancee Hannah
THIS IS HUMILIATING.HANNAHTwisted, delicious humiliation.I slide my leg another inch, the movement rubbing intense friction against my clit. I hold back a whimper, knowing it would only satisfy him further.He wants me to beg. For him to fuck me.It was—is—in our contract, and I even signed it. Because it seemed harmless, at the time. Surely, I wouldn't sleep with this man again, after knowing him to be my ex's brother. Better yet, I wouldn't think I'd sleep with him, knowing all our interactions and flirting in public are fake.But now the lines smear beyond recognition, unable to be redrawn. I don't even know what's fake or real anymore. Except the way he smiled, laughed and allowed me to open up to him today in the barn... That was real and nearly lifted my heart from my ribcage. I'd never seen him so free. A rare glimpse into such a complicated man.The living room seems so small. I bite my lip as I take another step and avoid his intense gaze, looking down at the ground. Until
His Fake Fiancee Damien
HANNAH'S A FUCKING GODDESS.And it's my only intention to worship her.She eyes me softly, the glow of the fireplace shining an orange halo behind her head. Her hands whisper down my body, starting at my chest and working their way along the harsh ridges of my core. She doesn't say a single word, and I can hardly breathe as she studies me.I wonder what she's thinking, what she thinks of me. I wish I could scoop deep inside her consciousness, only to pull out its mysteries.Touching her palms to my chest, she pushes me back into the couch as she lowers herself over my cock. But she doesn't put me in. Her pussy lips wrap around the base, her wetness warm on my skin."Grind on me," I grit out between clenched teeth."Like this?" She leans forward, her slickness sliding along my shaft as her breasts sway a breath away from my face.Fuck..."Yes, like that."She sways backwards, slipping along her way. I rest my head on the back of the couch, unable to watch her any longer. But her soft h
His Fake Fiancee Hannah
I CLUTCH DAMIEN'S ARM, nerves pricking at me.It's been two weeks since our weekend getaway at my family's farm,and I've come to terms with the fact that what we did in that guesthouse was borderline unholy. And ever since, not only have we been doing it, we've been doing it often, with my wails growing louder in the penthouse each night.But even more surprising than that is the way Damien has changed. His flirting has increased tenfold, but so have his smiles. It's almost like being with a newly reformed man, who doesn't have work and stress and duties crawling up his back like spiders."There's nothing to be nervous about," he purrs beside me. He's the calming presence between the two of us as we walk across the marble flooring. "You look stunning.""I'm not nervous," I lie.The Bass family estate is beyond immaculate.The minute John dropped us off at the front porch, I spotted more Rolls-Royces and other supercars than I could count. Nausea sweeps over me then, remembering how
His Fake Fiancee Hannah
I TURN the faucet handle to the very right, letting the cold water splash against my hands. I'd hoped it would ease my rattling mind that's working like a beehive in overdrive. Too many resurfaced questions. Too many people watching us with whispers under their breaths.The ballroom bathroom looks about how I expected. Porcelain sinks curve around gold spouts, and tall marble stalls reflect at me through the mirrors with glittery heels poking underneath the doors.I release a breath, rummaging through my clutch, right as two girls come stumbling into the bathroom, their hands bracing the walls."Come on," the one wearing a purple slip-dress says, tugging the other. "There's good lighting in here."They giggle on by, nearly running into me, before they whip out their phones. Twisting the bottom of my lipstick tube to unveil a deep red shade, I can't help but sneak peeks at the photoshoot that follows.With a flashing phone pointed her way, the one in purple sits on the countertop, lean
His Fake Fiancee Damien
"HANNAH LOCKWOOD, would you do the remarkable honor of marrying me?"My heart hammers in my chest like the crashing of symbols.It's hard to tell if the shock lining Hannah's face is because of the timely proposal, as per written in our contract. Or because of the diamond sitting inside of the velvet black box, I hold in my clammy hands—I wouldn't blame her, as the jeweler appraised it for just over five million. Or because she shares the notion that some part of this fake proposal is real.Whichever the case, the way her jaw hangs low and her hands flicker to the corners of her mouth makes for the perfect snapshot. Flashes shine bright against the darkness of the dance floor. The photographers acted quickly, precisely how Harrison said they would.The bodies and eyes surrounding us illuminate, all waiting in anticipation for Hannah's decisive answer. Her attention draws to the crowd, and some of that sparkling joy dies out of her eyes before she returns them to me.I wish I could spe
His Fake Fiancee Hannah
DID YOU HEAR?HANNAHNew York's most eligible billionaire put a ring on it. But you'll never guess on who... No, really, you won't. Because even I've never heard of Hannah Lockwood.Photographs of Damien down on one knee amidst tech royalty in the Bass' family ballroom are zipping across cyberspace faster than the speed of light. And yet, no one's sent me a single tip regarding his young personal assistant or the Lockwoods.If you know of them, please, I want to chat (online, of course).In later, more scandalous news, have you seen the new sex tape starring none other than Sterling Bass and Priscella Vuitton? Even if you won't admit it, bet you have, seeing as its views are skyrocketing on dozens of sites ending in "hub." The raunchy video set in a glitzy yacht cabin mysteriously posted to all of Priscella's socials the same night as the Bass' proposal.Coincidence?I'll let you decide.Albeit behind the mask of a keyboard and an anonymous pseudonymthat shall forever remain a myster
His Fake Fiancee Hannah
"HOLY. Shit. That's one hell of a rock, Hannah." Sofia eyes my finger as she pops off the top of the blender, exposing the strawberry goodness inside.She's right. So big I can't blame it on forgetfulness that I'm still wearing it.I should've left the engagement ring on the kitchen counter if I was aiming for maximum effectiveness and drama, but... here I am, wearing a ring that costs more than this apartment, probably more than the entire building.The wealth disparity between the two apartments is quite appalling, but I can still find a lot of appreciation for this one. It's filled with so many memories of Sofia and I and has that homey-cozy vibe that makes you want to wrap yourself with a blanket and watch movies all day... which is what we're planning on doing tonight, anyway."I know. It's kind of ridiculous, really."As the alcohol I've already consumed fogs my brain, she pours my next round to the brim of my wide cup. "Sofia, how many shots are you putting in these?"She pours
His Fake Fiancee Hannah
TURNS OUT SOFIA WAS RIGHT.Today, Damien didn't wake me and let me sleep in. But when I awoke to him fresh out of the shower in nothing but a towel, he let me know I could take the day off. I didn't even have to ask. He assumed I'd be nursing a hangover—which he was right.I told him I still plan on coming into the office. After I slept in, of course... Better late than never.Coming out of the bathroom with a white towel twisting my hair into a topknot, I discover a box lying on our bed. Blue ribbon runs along its edges, shining in the afternoon glow through the windows, and crosses into a neat bow containing a white notecard.I hold back a grin, reminding myself I'm still angry about how Damien overreacted yesterday.Hannah—it reads in Damien's annoyingly sharp handwriting.Please accept this gift as my sincere apology and peace-offering.I made us reservations tonight for dinner. Wear this to the office today,and I'll take it as your acceptance to come.Intriguing arousal pools in
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