Fake Dating The Bad Boy-Chapter 104: Naughty Boy Friend

JUSTIN POV

I heard the water running before I opened the door. The sound was soft, rhythmic, almost hypnotic—but not as much as the silhouette behind the glass.

June stood under the spray, rinsing shampoo from her hair, her head tilted back, exposing the curve of her neck. The water trailed down her bare body in long, slow rivulets that I wanted to trace with my tongue. She hadn’t heard me come in, too lost in her own little world.

Perfect.

The sound of water running over her skin might’ve been holy—if I wasn’t thinking of all the things I wanted to do to her. She was rinsing her hair, oblivious to me stepping in behind her. Steam curled around her body like a veil, but nothing could hide her from me. Not when she looked like that—wet, bare, beautiful, and mine.

I wrapped my arms around her from behind, pressing my chest to her back. She gasped, but didn’t move away. Her body softened into mine like she was waiting for it.

I kissed the back of her neck slowly, deliberately, letting my lips linger on her damp skin as her breath caught in her throat.

"Justin—what are you—"

"You really think I’d let you shower alone after what you pulled earlier?" I whispered, kissing her neck.

"You smell like sin," I murmured into her ear, and her soft exhale told me she was already slipping under. "You keep doing this to me."

She turned her head slightly, giving me a side-glance. "Doing what?"

I spun her gently, her wet hair trailing behind her, sticking to her skin in messy waves. Now she was facing me, chest rising and falling, eyes glazed with something between curiosity and hunger.

I reached under her thighs and lifted her up effortlessly. She let out a small gasp, wrapping her arms around my shoulders, legs clinging to my waist. I backed her up against the cold tiled wall, the contrast between the heat of our bodies and the chill of the ceramic making her shiver and arch against me.

"Tell me to stop," I whispered, nose brushing hers.

She didn’t.

Instead, her hips moved forward, rolling slowly, grinding against me. Fuck.

I kissed her, slow and deep. The kind of kiss that makes time irrelevant and skin feel too tight. She moaned into my mouth as I eased into her slowly, letting her adjust, letting her feel all of me. I wanted her to feel worshipped, not just taken. Her forehead pressed against mine, her fingers gripping my shoulders tight, her thighs trembling around my waist.

Her walls clamped around me as I moved, deep and steady, pulling a sigh out of her lips every time I hit that one spot. My hands were gripping her ass, thumbs pressing into the soft curves while I held her up, keeping our bodies locked in place. Every inch of her was soaked, inside and out, and the warmth of the water pouring down added another layer of heat.

Her nails scratched down my back as she started shaking in my arms.

"That’s it, baby," I coaxed, kissing her collarbone. "Let it go."

She did. Her moan echoed off the tiles as she came, legs tightening, body convulsing around me. But I wasn’t done. Not even close.

I lowered her to the floor gently, kissing her once more—soft, slow, grateful.

Then I spun her around, her hands bracing against the wall now, her back arched as her ass pressed against my hips. I gripped her waist, stepped closer, and slid back in with one strong thrust. She gasped, her body jolting forward. Her hand smacked the wall in surprise, but she didn’t tell me to stop. She pushed back instead.

That’s all the permission I needed.

I fucked her hard, fast. My hips slapping against her skin, her moans bouncing off the walls like music I wanted to bottle and play on repeat. Her wet hair clung to her back. Her thighs quivered with every thrust. And her moans—raw, desperate, beautiful—spurred me deeper.

"Justin," she whimpered, and I growled her name back like a prayer I didn’t deserve to say.

I gripped her hips, tugged her back into me again and again until I felt her trembling, her knees threatening to give way. I leaned over her back, kissing her shoulder as I pounded into her, deeper with every thrust until we both fell over that edge, lost in the rhythm of us.

When I finally stilled, I rested my forehead between her shoulder blades, both of us panting, wet, trembling.

For a moment, the world was quiet—just her breath, mine, and the water raining down.

I reached for a towel, wrapped her in it carefully, and kissed her shoulder one last time.

"Come on," I said gently, holding her like she was breakable—because after what we just shared, she kind of was. "Let’s get you dressed before I lose all my self-control and keep you here all day."

She leaned back against me with a small, satisfied smile, and for once, I wasn’t rushing to get away. I wanted every second, every soft breath, every stolen moment.

She could barely stand after what I did to her in the bathroom.

Hell, I could barely keep my hands off her even now.

She was wrapped in a towel, cheeks flushed, hair wet, lips kiss-bitten and red. I had to force myself to dial it down, to not take her back to the shower and ruin her for the day. But instead, I helped her out, drying her gently, savoring the way her body trembled under my touch.

Her legs were wobbly as hell. I didn’t comment on it, just smirked to myself as I lifted her bridal style and carried her to the bed like she was porcelain.

She looked up at me with that dazed, dreamy look I loved. God, she was beautiful. Fucking chaos in a tiny body.

I placed her down, kissed her temple, and walked to her closet like I owned the place—which I practically did at this point.

"Let’s see what we’ve got here," I muttered, flipping through her clothes. I could feel her gaze on my back like a heat lamp. I knew what I was doing. I wasn’t just picking her clothes. I was claiming space, making decisions, teasing her the way only I could.

I found a short black flared skirt—not too short, but short enough to drive me insane. Then a white blouse, clean and simple, something that clung to her curves like a second skin. I held them up and turned around.

"I want you to wear this today," I said with a smirk.

She raised an eyebrow at me from the bed, still half-covered in the towel. She looked suspicious, which made me grin wider. Yeah, she was catching on. I was definitely up to something.

"Where are your undergarments?" I asked, innocent as ever.

The look on her face? Priceless.

"What the fuck? Are you planning to pick those for me too?"

I didn’t answer. Just turned and pulled open her drawer like it was the most natural thing in the world. Because to me—it was. She was mine, and I didn’t need permission to know her down to every lace and thread.

I was only wearing a towel myself, water still dripping off my body, but the moment I opened that drawer and spotted it—that little black thong—I grinned.

"This one," I said, holding it up. "Wear this for me." freёnovelkiss.com

Her face turned ten shades of flustered, trying to hide her shock behind a glare. But I knew her. That spark in her eyes? That wasn’t offense—it was curiosity and arousal battling in her brain.

"Come on, baby," I added, voice dipping low, teasing. "I’ll make sure it’s worth your while."

She snatched it from my hand and tried to act all indignant, but she was already giving in.

"Okay, fine," she muttered. "But you owe me."

"I always pay my debts," I said smoothly, reaching back into the drawer to find the matching black bra.

I handed it to her gently, then leaned in to kiss her forehead. "My clothes are still on the kitchen floor," I said with a low chuckle. "I’ll head back to my place, change, and come pick you up for class."

She blinked at me, a little surprised by the shift from seductive to soft, but I meant every word.

I paused at the doorway, looking back at her.

"Get dressed," I said. "And make sure you eat something before I return."

Then I walked out, feeling the weight of her stare on my back the whole way out.

Damn right I was planning something.

She just had no idea what was coming.

She thought I left to change and let her recover.

I didn’t.

I was planning.

Thirty minutes later, I walked through her door with a bag in one hand and a wicked smile on my face. She was leaning over the counter, sipping her coffee, totally unaware of the fire I was about to reignite. Her skirt flared out just right.

This 𝓬ontent is taken from f(r)eeweb(n)ovel.𝒄𝒐𝙢