His Pretend Girl by Sofia Grey Read Free Book Online

I’d never forget this moment. No matter how it played out with Ben, I’d always have this. As though he recognized I’d drifted away, he nipped at my shoulder. I whimpered in pleasure.
    His hands rested on my denim-clad hips, warm and sure, holding me steady. “There’s something I always wanted to do.” His whisper vibrated against my skin, hot breath stoking the inferno at my core.
    It was a struggle to speak. “What?”
    “Whenever I come here, I admire the view from this window.” It was the reason I rented this particular house and tolerated the longer-than-usual commute to work. “And tonight, it looks even more amazing.”
    “Why?”
    He chuckled, and flattened one hand on my bare stomach, a ripple of lust following in its wake. “Do you really need to ask?” Kiss . “Because you’re in my arms, sweetheart.”
    His ragged words echoed my thoughts, and I had to say something. Ben was busy with my other bra strap. I gasped when he pressed his lips to my neck again. It was divine. “Ben.” The words all jumbled up in my mouth, and it took a moment to separate them. With every minute that passed, he scrambled my brain a little further. “Let’s do it here.”
    He stilled for a heartbeat, and then groaned against my skin. “Oh fuck. You must be a mind-reader, Dorothy. Just what I was thinking about. That would fulfill a whole load of my fantasies, all in one go.”
    Ben had fantasies about me? Lust flooded my veins, and I could think of nothing else. My breasts ached for his touch, and my stomach had so many butterflies fluttering around, I’m surprised he couldn’t feel them.
    His hand pressed against my belly, warm and dry, and slowly slid down, to dip under the waistband of my jeans, and then up again. The breath caught in my throat. “You want to make love here, against the window?” Ben’s hard-on nudged me, his voice stumbling over the words.
    “Yes.”
    He let out a long breath. “Christ, Dorothy, you make me feel like I’m sixteen again. I want you so much, I can’t think straight.” Finally, he unfastened my bra, and it fell to the floor. Cool air was replaced a heartbeat later with his hands closing around my breasts. My nipples hardened, hyper-sensitive and begging for his touch.
    “Do you trust me, sweetheart?”
    Odd question, but there was no hesitation on my part. “Yes.”
    His breath hitched at my rapid answer. “Open the blinds. Put your hands on the glass and keep them there. Let me look after you.”
    From the day I’d met him, from our first early friendship, Ben had always looked after me. His earlier words sank in. Make love to me . Other boyfriends had fucked, and screwed. None had made love. My heart, already tripping along, took off at a full gallop.
    The window glass was cold underneath my palms, but everywhere else burned. I was melting for Ben. I knew my panties were soaked, and he’d find out when he got there. He nibbled on my ears some more, and then finally brushed my nipples. Electricity arced through me, as though I’d shoved my fingers into a live socket. I cried out. Cupping the weight of my breasts in his hands, he drew circles around the tight buds with his thumbs. I nearly fell apart. The combination of his hands, and his mouth on my neck, was driving me insane.
    “Please,” I whispered, unsure what I asked for. When had my breasts become so responsive?
    Since Ben touched me.
    An age later, when I was on the verge of begging, he snapped open my jeans and eased them down my legs, to pool around my ankles. “You look so beautiful.” He nuzzled my hair. “I can see your reflection in the glass and my hands on you.”
    The windows were coated so nobody could see in, but even if they’d been plain glass, I would do this with Ben. The realization I’d follow him anywhere was staggering. All the time we’d wasted.
    My thoughts shattered, when he cupped my wet panties and groaned. “Fuck.”
    “Yes, please.”
    “Christ and all the saints,