The Fiancé Agreement

by McKenna Rogue

  I grinned and bent, looping my tongue around her nipple, sucking the tight nub into my mouth as I ground down against her, staying deep as I used my hips to add pressure to her clit. I wanted her climax even more than I wanted to come with her. I needed to feel her let go on my cock, to lose herself in the passion.

  Helena’s body tightened as her thighs squeezed around me, and then she arched up, crying out my name as she clamped down on my dick hard.

  I thrust harder then, taking her even rougher, pushing her deeper into her release as I chased after my own, wanting to wring every last bit of her orgasm out of her.

  The harder, faster thrusts seemed to drive her crazy, her body bucking and rocking with mine as she writhed and thrashed under me. She looked so damn sexy, I wanted to keep her locked like this forever, trapped in climax with me.

  Grunting, I gripped her hips hard and slammed home as I pulsed inside of her, filling the condom.

  Why could I not shake the urge to fuck her again and again, without protection, without anything separating us? Why did the idea of filling her with my climax, letting it take root inside her, make everything hotter?

  She kissed me softly as I slowly pulled my hips from hers, sliding out, disconnecting.

  “That was…” She blushed and shook her head. “You’re incredible.”

  I pressed a kiss to her forehead before I rolled onto my back and sighed. “You’re so fucking sexy when you come, Helena.”

  I knew I needed to take care of the condom, but I didn’t want to leave her alone in bed, even for a second. I loved the spell we seemed to be under, that let her give in to me like that.

  She curled into my side, her head on my heart as she murmured something I couldn’t hear. It was too much, too perfect, having her in my arms like this, that I couldn’t even stomach asking her to roll over, or to repeat herself louder.

  I was just content to know that she trusted me with her body, with all of her, and that even after we’d fucked like that, she still wanted to touch me.

  15

  Helena

  Giovanni Wright was unlike any lover I’d ever had.

  Not that there had been that many. And those that I did have seemed more interested in getting themselves off than worrying about whether chubby Helena reached orgasm.

  But Gio…God, that tongue.

  I would wear his ring in a heartbeat, if he really asked me to, if there was a promise of his kindness, his easy laugh, and definitely more of that tongue.

  As he walked to the bathroom, I shimmied under the covers, pulling the sheet up over my naked body, trying to ignore my pussy’s demand that we do that again. And again.

  When he returned, he had the tray from room service with wine and chocolate cake in one hand, and a smile on his face. “You didn’t have to cover up.”

  I licked my lips as he bent over to set the tray on the nightstand, and then he poured me a glass of wine. “You just want to take more mental pictures for your art.” Sex had to be part of the artist’s process. Everything about Gio was sexy, and I’m sure when he created art, finishing it off with some orgasms was the best night cap.

  He chuckled and handed over the wine before walking around the bed with the cake and his glass. “Maybe I just want more mental pictures just for me. Not everything has to be about art.” He handed over the plate just long enough to slide into bed, and then took it back. “How should we spend the rest of our night of freedom?”

  I fought the urge to demand more sex. I didn’t have any more condoms in my purse, and he’d already admitted to being unprepared for this to happen. And even if we did have protection, I wasn’t sure he’d want more of me. “Maybe we could watch a movie while we have our wine and dessert, before bed?”

  “That sounds perfect.” He leaned over and pressed a kiss to my cheek before he grabbed the remote. “Do you mind if we do subtitles? My batteries are dying, and since I know you can still talk to me, I should probably power them down for the night.”

  God, I was such an idiot. Of course, he would be unprepared for that too. His inability to hear wasn’t a bad thing, by any stretch, but he interacted so naturally, so easily with everyone, it was easy to forget about the implants. “Sure.” I smiled as he turned on the closed captioning, and then handed the remote over, giving me the power to pick something.

  I watched as he carefully removed the microphone portion of his implants, admiring his strong, muscular back as he took them off. And I fought the desire to reach out and touch him, to run my hands all over his body. He was so fit, so strong, it didn’t make any sense to me that he wouldn’t want someone just the same. But at least for tonight, he was mine, and he was voracious in making sure that I was well taken care of. It made me want to be just as voracious for him. I wondered what he would do if I offered to give him a blow job. Or if I offered more sex, even without condoms.

  I was on birth control, for all the good it did me with my lackluster sex life, so pregnancy wasn’t something I was particularly worried about. Hell, the condom in my purse was more just standard practice than any real hope. But we’d put it to great use, all the same.

  Gio tapped my shoulder and smiled before he signed, “I can see you overthinking things, Helena.” He used the same sign that Rose did, which was familiar but somehow so much more intimate when he used it.

  With Rose, it was a shared story.

  With Gio, it felt more like an intimate secret, a reminder that he’d seen a piece of ink that almost no one else in the world knew existed.

  My hands moved lazily in the air. “Sorry. I guess I have a lot on my mind.”

  “You better not be overthinking what just happened. Because it was hot, and I was serious about wanting to do it again.” He leaned over and kissed me, softly, not the sort of kiss that felt like he was trying to start something, but my pussy didn’t seem to realize that, as I felt zings in my core, making me wet all over again.

  “I don’t know if we should. You’re…” I sighed. “You’re going to leave after the wedding, and as much as I enjoyed it, I don’t want you to feel like you have to.”

  “If I have to, it’s because I can’t keep my hands off you. Nothing else.” He chuckled and picked up the remote, scrolling through the movies until he found a romantic comedy. Then he grabbed the cake again and offered it to me. “Just relax. Enjoy yourself. Enjoy being here with me. Any other overthinking can wait.”

  We finished off the cake and most of the bottle of wine as the movie played, but I couldn’t focus on the couple falling in love on the screen.

  I was completely focused on the man in bed next to me, wrapped around me, holding me like he really wanted to be there. Like he could be my real fiancé, not just a guy I’d practically begged to come to this thing with me so that I wouldn’t have to be embarrassed.

  When we fell asleep, I was curled into his side, holding onto him, almost clinging, as if I was afraid he would slip off in the night. But he never pulled away, never tried to loosen my grip. Almost as if he wanted to cling to me as much as I wanted to cling to him.

  The next morning, Gio was already in the shower when I woke up. I was so tempted to join him, to start up another round of the fun we had last night. But even in sleep, his hands hadn’t wandered again, and as I ran my fingers through my hair, trying to untangle the mess of sex and sleep, I couldn’t help but wonder if he wasn’t entirely honest about wanting me like I wanted him.

  And then I heard the groan.

  I leaned against the door, curiosity overriding any feeling like I was being a creep, listening to this man take a shower.

  The water muted out most sound, but every once in a while, I heard a groan or a moan, until they became more frequent. And then, his groan turned into my name.

  Unless I was completely off base, Gio was masturbating. And thinking of me.

  I quickly ran from the room and grabbed my dress and panties, trying to look presentable. Trying not to dwell on the fact that I had just heard him come in the s
hower.

  Trying to remember that sex didn’t necessarily mean feelings, especially with men. He hadn’t responded last night, right after sex, when I admitted that I was really starting to like him. I hadn’t expected a response, but I needed to say it.

  “Hey.” He walked out of the bathroom with a towel slung low around his waist, drawing my attention to the dark trail of hair leading down to his cock.

  It would’ve been so easy to grab the towel, let it fall to the ground, and take him back to bed for another round. It sounded a hell of a lot more fun than going with Mom and Daphne and whatever other women had been invited for her bachelorette day.

  Anything would be more fun with Gio.

  Waiting for him to look at me, I signed, “Good morning. Should we get breakfast before we head out?”

  “You’ll have to order for me. I don’t think my batteries have enough power for breakfast out.” He smiled and bent over, giving me a great view of his ass in the towel, all muscular as the fabric stretched over it, and then he dropped his shirt and pants on the end of the bed before turning back to me. “Did you need the bathroom? I ran down to the front desk and got us toothbrushes and toothpaste, so morning breath wouldn’t be an issue.”

  I swallowed hard, wondering if he knew that I’d heard him. Wondering if he had any idea that watching him in that towel was just soaking my panties all over again, to the point where I was beginning to worry that the whole world would be aware of how turned on I was just by watching him. By knowing what that body could do.

  “Thanks. You’re thoughtful.” I hurried into the other room before I became even more of a creep by watching him get dressed.

  By the time we were both ready, I felt like I was out with a god, or a model, or something, while he was stuck with the hot mess that was sex-tousled me. My hair was unruly, sticking up in every which direction, and in too many tangles to even fix had I jumped into the shower. My makeup was practically non-existent, only the remnants of some eyeliner and mascara, and while his slacks and shirt somehow managed to still be wrinkle-free, I felt like I looked like I’d crumpled my dress up in the bottom of a drawer for a hundred years before I put it on.

  Still, when he reached over the table and took my hand, his focus completely on me, I melted, feeling like the prettiest girl in all of Italy.

  I was afraid to check my phone, knowing that Daphne or Mom had probably called or texted over and over, wondering where I was, if I was going to make it back for the day, and probably some berating of my behavior at dinner.

  But I didn’t care. I was getting really tired of letting them dictate how my life should go, and even though I knew Gio would eventually walk out of my life, I didn’t want to go back to dating losers who didn’t look at me like he did. Fake or not, this was a better relationship, healthier, than I’d ever had.

  We rolled up to the villa in time to see Marcus and his bachelor’s party roll out on one of those giant party busses, the sort that probably had a stripper pole down the middle.

  I glanced at Gio and signed, “Do you want to go with them?”

  He shook his head. “Even if I could hear them, which I won’t be able to, I’ve never been one to celebrate like it’s your last day of freedom before the shackles go on. That’s never seemed like the start to a healthy marriage, and I don’t need to see a groom-to-be staring at some woman’s breasts as some final rite of passage before the wedding. I’ll hang around here, work on some sketches, and maybe head into town to take photos at some point.”

  God, all of that sounded better than going to Daphne’s party, even though hers was more of a girl’s day than anything to do with strippers and shots. “I’ll have my phone on me, if you need anything.”

  “Go enjoy time with your sister. She’s glad to have you here, and it’ll be a good time.” He smiled and leaned over the console to press a soft kiss to my lips. “But you might want to change first.”

  I laughed and smoothed my hands over my dress. “What? You don’t think my sex rumpled clothes will be well received? You’re no fun.” Honestly, I wished there would be enough time to shower and get fully cleaned up, but I knew Daph would be chomping at the bit to get going.

  At the very least, I was going to take the time to brush my hair and put on a fresh layer of make-up.

  “There you are!” Daphne ran up to the car as I pushed open the door. “Why haven’t you been answering your phone? I was starting to think you were dead on the side of the road somewhere.”

  I got out of the car and smiled. “We just needed a night away. I’m sure you understand.” I glanced at Gio, and he quickly wrapped an arm around my waist and kissed my cheek, as if he knew I needed him next to me, even without words.

  “We need to leave in ten minutes if we’re going to make our appointment. Please tell me you’re not going to spend all day looking like you’ve been thoroughly fucked.” She looked me up and down, her lips turned down into a frown. “I mean, I get it, but have some decorum.”

  I was tempted to leave my hair wild, just to spite her, but this was her week, her wedding, and I knew she’d never forgive me if I ruined anything, even just something as simple as the bachelorette day. “Then you should probably let us get inside, so I can change.”

  She stepped aside, chattering away about the day’s plans. But I barely heard her, focused instead on the fact that Gio’s hand was squarely on my ass as we made our way up the front steps, and when we made it through the door, he pulled me around for a lingering kiss, letting his tongue just start to tease mine before he pulled away.

  He signed, “I’ll wait down here until you’re ready. But for what it’s worth, I think you look beautiful all sexed up, and your sister should learn when it’s appropriate to use curse words.”

  I laughed as I headed to our shared room, wondering if I’d get to see any of his art from today. If he’d use our night as inspiration, or if it was only sticking with me that intensely.

  I had no artistic talent other than working with yarn, but if I could have, I would’ve created an entire gallery worth of art of that man’s body, of the feel of him when he came.

  Rose was sitting on the couch with Gio when I came down, and it seemed they were deep in conversation, fingers flying almost too fast for me to keep up with.

  It was nice to see Rose so passionate, so connected to someone who wasn’t me or her mom, and I loved that she and Gio were making friends, even though part of me felt like I was robbing her of this connection, before she even realized it. It wasn’t like she could exactly continue being friends with my fiancé after we “broke up”.

  “They look good together. What are they talking about?” Daphne leaned her head on my shoulder, watching them with me.

  “I don’t know. I’m not eavesdropping.” I hated how quickly my stomach turned at Daphne’s statement. They did look good together. And Rose looked genuinely happy. Would he want to date her when this was all said and done? Would he “leave me” for my cousin?

  “Well, grab Rose, and let’s go. Unless you think she’d be happier here with him?”

  That settled that. I wasn’t going to risk losing my fiancé to my cousin, even if it was just a fake relationship.

  Rose’s feelings didn’t even play into it as I walked over and tapped Gio on the shoulder, leaning in to kiss him hungrily before I signed, “It’s time for us to go. Are you sure you’ll be here alone today?”

  “I’ll be fine.” He turned back to Rose and smiled at her, the same easy-going smile that I’d fallen for at the beach. “We’ll talk later, okay?”

  As we all headed to the waiting limo, I couldn’t help but feel like leaving Gio alone today was a horrible idea. And letting him become friends with Rose was an even worse one.

  16

  Helena

  “Okay, you have to tell me where you found a guy like Gio. He’s just so… yummy.” Daphne’s maid of honor, Penelope, leaned over at the nail salon, nearly spilling her glass of champagne into my lap as she wh
ispered comically loud. “I mean, there’s that whole deaf thing, but I feel like I could overlook that for those abs.”

  “You haven’t seen his abs.” I rolled my eyes. “And that ‘whole deaf thing’, as you put it, is far from a bad thing.”

  Penelope shrugged. “I don’t need to see them to know they’re there. He’s obviously built.” She downed half her glass and turned to me again. “Where’d you meet him?”

  I leaned back into my chair, fighting the urge to get a glass of my own. Or a whole bottle. The entire limo ride, and most of our pedicures, had been one question after another about Gio, and what his story was.

  The underlying theme, either out loud, or implied, always seemed to be, how did a fat girl like you land such a hot guy?

  Rose sat across from me, and rather than continue to talk to Penelope, I signed, “Having fun?”

  She nodded. “It’s nice being with the girls. Even if I’m missing most of the chatter. Anything I’m missing?”

  “Just lots of questions about Gio.”

  She smiled. “I like him. He’s really nice. And it’s nice to have someone else to talk to.” She bit her lip, and then added, “Not that I don’t like talking to you.”

  “I know. He’s new, and he speaks your language, understands where you’re coming from.”

  “He has nice things to say about you too.” She smiled. “Does he have a single brother?”

  I laughed. “Several, actually. Want me to introduce you?” I paused. “They’re all hearing, though.”

  She shrugged. “At least I’d know they understand. You don’t know how hard it is to date, when you can’t talk to people.”

  Sighing, I felt like I was bringing down Rose’s mood. I didn’t mean to bring up things that would make her less smiley, but clearly, everyone wanted to talk about me and Gio, even her. “You’re so great though. I bet when you find the right guy, he’s going to sweep you off your feet so much.” I smiled, trying to get her to follow suit.