RING ME: A Fake Fiancé Romance

by Flite, Nora

  “Have you ever done this before?” I asked.

  His head angled to the side. “Met with someone for sex?”

  “No. Well, yes. But more like, the whole roleplaying, and no strings attached, just... this situation specifically.” He'd mentioned not fucking drunk girls. How many others had there been before me? Or was I special? Did I want to be?

  “I've never met up with someone from the internet to fulfill a sexual fantasy. I never thought I'd get involved this deep, actually. But after talking to you online, I was intrigued enough that I spent some time reading about the kinks you mentioned in our chats. Now I'm honestly eager to do it with you, Cherry.”

  A tension I didn't know I was holding onto released in me. “Oh.”

  “You're smiling,” he noted.

  Smoothing my hands over my hair, I blushed until my ears were scalding. “Let's change the subject.”

  “We can. But the next topic is all you.” The blue in his eyes shifted, becoming darker. His voice was deeper. “Tell me what you want me to do to you. What you need me to be. And when you're done, and ready, speak the word to begin our play session.”

  Neptune, I thought anxiously. I slid my tongue over my bottom lip, wetting it. Conner fixated on the movement. Nothing I did escaped him, and knowing I was the object of his full attention was making the insides of my thighs wet. “And you won't judge me.”

  “Not at all.”

  “Or laugh.”

  “Never,” he growled, like he was furious at the idea anyone would dare to do that to me. The savage sound made the hairs on my arms stand on end. I loved his answer. Loved it.

  “I want...” I started, then drew in a big gulp of air. “I want you to pretend you're dangerous. Someone sent to kidnap me because I'm the daughter of a rich and powerful rival who wronged you, and your plan is to humiliate me, turn me into some dirty whore and tape it to play for everyone my father knows.” Halfway through telling him my fantasy, I'd dropped my eyes to my knees.

  Conner's fingers touched my chin. “Look at me,” he whispered. It took all of my courage to do what he asked. His handsome face was the same stoic expression as earlier, but the wild lust in his eyes was raging. “I'm into it. Okay?”

  “You are?” I asked dubiously.

  He reached down, making sure I watched as he palmed the massive hard-on in his jeans. The sight of it made my body tingle. “I'll play your blackmail scene, Cherry. I'll sink into your fantasy one hundred and one percent. No hurting you. Nothing gross. Anything else?”

  My breath kept catching in my throat. It made my voice high, wobbly. “Did you bring condoms?”

  He smirked. “Plenty.”

  Did he think we'd need more than one? Was it possible for him to make this last into the late hours of the night, so that the scene never ended, or so we could do an entirely different one? My panties were slick under my dress at the very idea. “Okay. Then I think I'm ready. Stand up.” He blinked, but he did so. I hopped off the bed, walking to the door. Opening it, I waved him into the hall.

  Conner turned to face me, watching with interest as I closed the door until there was just a thin crack to see through. He filled my vision. I glanced down at his erection, blushing harder than ever, my stomach tight from arousal. “Neptune,” I said firmly. Then I shut the door.

  Backing up, I looked around the room, my limbs buzzing from desire, my head fluffy from gin and tonic. I did it, I thought, amazed at myself. The scene was in motion. There was no turning back, now, until I uttered the safe word.

  Wanting relief from the sweltering heat, I stripped off my long jacket and left it piled on the floor. Air tickled my bare arms but offered little to cool me down. In the reflective surface of the hotel room's single window, I stared at myself. My innocently pink dress, my smooth, loose red hair curling over my exposed shoulders, my glossy peach lips... I looked the part of the young daughter of some political rival.

  Get in the head space, I told myself, running my palms over my belly. I shut my eyes. You're Cherry. A bratty, spoiled girl who's never been with a man. Who thinks she's too good for anyone, and that the world eats out of her palm. No one can tame her.

  The door clicked as it opened behind me.

  Chapter 3

  The Scene

  TWIRLING, I GAWKED as Conner entered the room. His eyes had been dark before, but his pupils were so wide they ate up every remnant of wintry blue. His angular jaw gave him a devilish look—and when he smirked, my heart skipped. “Well well,” he chuckled, closing the door behind him. “If it isn't the pretty little daughter of Fernando Milovich.”

  “Who are you?” I gasped.

  He stalked towards me, his wide frame filling every gap the room had to offer. There was no way around him, and for a second, I truly forgot we were only playing. That was how wicked his energy was. “Conner Wiles. I doubt you've heard of me. Your daddy did his best to keep the darker side of his business deals out of the public eye. Makes it easier for the world to think he isn't scum.”

  I drew myself as tall as I could, trying to appear brave. “My father isn't scum. How dare you talk about him like that! Get out of here, before I make you sorry you ever let his name exit your filthy mouth.”

  “Oh, sweet lamb, before I'm done with you, you'll see exactly how filthy my mouth can be.”

  His cruel sneer sent a thrill up my spine. I held my head high. “What do you want?”

  “Nothing you'll give freely.”

  My eyes darted to my left, where I knew the door was hidden behind him. “Money? If it's money, just take me to an ATM.”

  He advanced, his hands hanging by his hips, fingers curled, forearms flexing where his shirt exposed them. Conner was preparing to grab me. Flooding with excitement, I burst forward, trying to duck around him and make an escape.

  “Tsk,” he cautioned, scooping his arm around my middle. With incredible ease, he pushed me against the wall, his fingers trapping my left shoulder. “Bad girl. I didn't say you could leave.”

  My lungs flared over and over. I wasn't afraid, not really, but I was burning up with expectation. Conner was perfect so far. Better than I hoped. But there was still a lot to be done, and we weren't at the ultimate part of the scene that I'd dreamed about many times alone in my bed.

  Gazing up at him with wide eyes, I flared my nostrils. “Let me go. Now. Before I ruin your life.”

  “You don't get it.” His chuckle was husky. Bending close, he trailed a finger down my cheek. My nipples dug into my thin bra, the cotton dress outlining their firm shapes. He glanced down at my cleavage, then at my parted lips, then into my eyes. “I'm the one who's going to ruin you, Cherry. Tonight, you belong to me.”

  He was speaking in character. Intellectually, I knew that. And still... somehow... it felt so real. So earnest. In my soul, I did belong to him tonight.

  I tried to push him away; he pressed me back on the wall forcefully, never letting his grin slip. “Listen,” I said, “Whatever my father did has nothing to do with me.”

  “I'm here for revenge, sweet lamb. Not to debate responsibility. But if you want to get technical...” His right hand drifted down, scooping up the hem of my dress, rubbing it between his fingers. “Your daddy's greed bought you all your pretty toys. You benefited from his shady business deals. You're not innocent. Though you look the part, which will make this more fun.”

  A hot tremble shook me down to my core. I squeezed my thighs together. “What are you going to do to me?”

  “Let's find out together.” He wrapped his fingers in my hair, his cheek touching my throat as he breathed in. Conner was smelling me. Our bodies pressed close—he was so warm, so solid. The pleasant scent of oranges made me dizzy.

  His fingers twisted in my dress, hiking it to my hip. “Stop,” I moaned, though I wanted him to keep going.

  Conner pulled away until I could see his narrowed eyes. I stared into them, transfixed. “You don't get to boss me around. I'm not one of your dad's goons. The only one who'
s going to follow any commands is you. Get on the bed.”

  I gave my head a sharp shake. “I won't.”

  The excitement in his eyes burned brighter. He loved that I was fighting back. “It's going to feel so good when you're eating out of my palm.” He dropped my dress, giving me a push towards the bed. When I resisted, his palm gave my ass a firm pat. “I said go. Now.”

  Climbing onto the hotel bed, I buried my hands in the plush, forest green blanket. It was a California King—extra big—and kneeling in the middle made me feel like I was center stage. Conner stood at the foot, watching me like he was deciding what to do next.

  Was he hesitating?

  “Well?” I asked disdainfully. “Did you want me to go to sleep?”

  His eyebrows lifted an inch. “Still so stuck up. It's like you don't believe your life is about to change forever.”

  “I'm the heir to a multi-million dollar fortune. You're a nobody. Nothing you do will change who I am.”

  “God, breaking you is going to be fun.” He reached into his pocket. Pulling out his phone, he set it on the dresser, balancing it so it was upright, before facing me again. “I'll give you a choice. You can strip yourself, or I'll do it for you.”

  “I'm not getting naked!”

  “Take off the dress. I can't promise I won't rip it if you make me do it.”

  I wrapped my arms around my chest, feeling my heart ramming into them. “I've never been naked in front of a man. I was saving myself.”

  “How sweet. I don't care.” Conner snapped his fingers. “Last chance, or I'm climbing up there.”

  “Fine,” I muttered. “You're going to pay for this. I promise.” He didn't respond, he just smirked. Steeling myself—because even if this wasn't my first time being naked for a man, it was my first time with Conner—I gripped the hem of my pink dress.

  Here we go.

  Gliding it upwards, I tugged it over my head, causing my hair to fluff and sway into my eyes. The soft strands tickled over my hyper sensitive skin, my thin, white lingerie the only thing keeping me decent.

  He focused his attention between my spread thighs, whistling. “Wow. Daddy's perfect little girl is a dirty slut after all.”

  Blushing bright red, I covered my soaked panties. I was so fucking aroused by his comment. By... by everything we were doing. This situation was hotter than my fantasy had been. Conner was playing the part of a cruel, domineering, dangerous rival so perfectly that I wondered if he'd taken acting classes in the past.

  He advanced on me, reaching across the bed to pull my arms away from my body. “Cover yourself again and I'll spank your cute ass.”

  His threat lit a brand new fire in me. A heat so fierce that my clit swelled and throbbed. “You can't tell me what to do!” I snapped my knees together, arms crossing to shield my breasts. I dared him with a glare to make good on his word.

  Conner froze, his blue eyes cold and hard. “I did warn you. I guess it's time for a lesson, little lamb.” In a single motion he was on the bed, his weight making the mattress shift, throwing me off balance. Snatching my upper arms, he rolled me over onto my belly.

  I knew he was strong, but the way he held me flat with a single palm on my upper back was impressive. “Let me go!” I squealed, wiggling to slip away. His body keeping me captive was making my pussy slicker.

  “Bad girl,” he whispered darkly. The fingers on his free hand traced up the back of my thigh, then down again. “Time to teach you who's boss.” His hand vanished. I tensed up, holding my breath, knowing what was coming—eager for it. Afraid of it. My emotions were a mess.

  The first spank of his open palm made me squeak. “Ah!” It was a crisp thwap that filled the air. My ass jiggled from the impact—Conner groaned, unable to hide his response. Knowing this was turning him on was turning me on even more.

  Another slap came, then a third. “Do you like that?” he asked, his breath searing the curve of my ear. His fingertips traced the hot spots he'd made on my soft skin. “Should I spank you more, dirty brat?”

  “Jesus,” I whispered, muffling my voice with my face in the bed.

  Conner grabbed the elastic of my panties, tugging it into my crack until the wet cloth was buried between my pussy lips. My clit pulsed over and over. “Exposing you as the filthy little slut you are will be easier than I thought.”

  I writhed on his lap, whimpering. “Please...”

  “Please what?”

  “Touch me. I want more.”

  He hissed between his teeth, as if all the tension in his body was trying to escape as steam. Conner was doing all he could to stay in charge of the scene. “No. You don't control me, Cherry.” His palm came down one final time—the hardest slap yet—before he pushed me off his lap. I propped myself on my side, staring up at him. Unfiltered desire looked back at me. It made his jaw tight, like he was gritting his molars. His hands flexed at his sides, wanting to grab me, feel me, all over again.

  He retreated off the mattress. When he stood, I spotted the thick shape of his cock in his pants. It pointed upwards, tenting the denim, tempting me with the promise of a deep, hard railing.

  “You want this, don't you?” he asked.

  I sat up on my knees. “Yes.”

  “But you're a virgin.”

  My mouth opened to argue. Wait. I was aroused enough that my thoughts were getting fuzzy. In this dirty game, I was a pure virgin. “Yes.”

  “Will my cock really be the first you've seen? Or have you snuck a look at some porn.”

  “Once or twice,” I said quietly.

  Something sinister crossed his face. “And did you pet that cute little pussy of yours?”

  Holy hell. “I did, yeah.”

  “Show me.”

  Chewing my bottom lip, I lifted my hands to my bra straps. “You want me to... to play with myself, in front of you?”

  “In front of thousands, actually.” Reaching over, he turned his phone on, and after a single tap, I saw myself reflected back. He was recording me.

  I snapped my wide eyes to Conner, horrified he'd betray me like this. He must have sensed my anger, because his forehead crinkled upwards. With a single long, serious stare, then a subtle shake of his head, he made it clear he wasn't really recording me.

  I breathed out shakily. Trust him. If you can't, then you shouldn't be in this room with him. “No! I can't do that!” I shouted. “I refuse!”

  “I was hoping you'd say that. This was getting to be too easy.” Conner reached down, undoing the button of his jeans. The sound of his zipper splitting apart slid between my ribs, into my heart. As he pushed his belt down his legs, taking his pants with it, he exposed his tight, light gray boxer-briefs. His penis arched against the fabric, eager to escape.

  Peeling off his shirt, he let it join the pile of clothes at his feet, kicking his boots off so he could approach the bed. One hand casually squeezed his cock through his underwear; his eyes stayed on me the whole time. “Touch yourself,” he demanded.

  I gave my head a weak shake.

  Conner grabbed my ankles, pulling me towards him until I was on my back, feet in the air on either side of his hips. His grin was like a crescent moon above me. “Guess I'll have to make you want to do it,” he said.

  “Impossible.”

  His eyes twinkled, loving my subtle dare. “There's a reason I'm the one who was sent to ruin you, little lamb.” Catching my wrists in a fist, he stretched them over my head. “I know how to drive a girl wild. I'll have you begging me to finger your pretty pussy. You'll do anything I ask soon enough.”

  My breasts swelled in my bra as I took in a sharp breath. I couldn't get enough air—everything in my skull was constricting. “Fuck you,” I panted.

  “If you ask nicely, maybe.” Arching his hips, he ground his erection on the front of my wet panties. A spark of pure pleasure rocketed from my clit to my belly to my brain, and I threw my head back on the blankets, moaning.

  Conner groaned, too, his cock thickening. In a slow, d
eliberate motion, he rocked his hips again, creating a constant sensation of my clit being rubbed. Heat swirled in my center—my nipples throbbed in my bra. He wasn't lying; he knew how to drive me wild.

  Reaching under me, he unclasped my bra, then let my wrists go so he could yank it off and toss it aside. I expected him to hold me down again but instead, he placed my palms onto my own breasts. “Go on,” he insisted.

  “I said no—ooh,” I whimpered as his erection caressed my pussy.

  He shifted his body, flexing his muscular ass and thighs so he could grind on me as he spoke. “Play with your tits, Cherry. Touch yourself for me. I want to see you do it. And it's obvious you're aching to.”

  I shook my head, even as my fingers brushed my taut nipples. They were sensitive from arousal; my gentle touch made me light headed. “Dammit,” I groaned, closing my eyes, teasing myself.

  “Good girl. That's it.” Conner kept rubbing his shaft on me. The only thing separating our bodies was our pathetically thin underwear. His heat was a roaring fire I couldn't ignore, and my own inner thighs were slippery with lust.

  My eyes fluttered open—he was staring at my mouth. Before I thought it through, I leaned up on my elbows, kissing him. His shock was obvious, but he didn't resist. Circling his strong arms around me, he pressed me onto the mattress, our lips latching together. His tongue fought mine, taking control in that hidden part of my body. I explored the edges of his teeth, tasted the sweetness of gin.

  I'd never planned to kiss him.

  But I hadn't said it was against the rules.

  “Fuck,” he snarled as be broke away. His pupils were dilated, blacker than the unexplored sections of the universe. I was open-mouthed, gasping for air. My lungs burned—how long had we kissed for?

  Conner fit his hand onto mine, fingers in the gaps, linking us tight. With clear expectation, he set my hand onto my panties and backed away. He moved smoothly until he stood next to his phone. I was the only one in frame—seeing myself, spread on the bed, breasts exposed, panties a wreck, skin pink from passion... it was surreal. I didn't recognize myself.