Fake Dating The Bad Boy-Chapter 20: Fantasy Becoming A Reality

Justin's POV

Her kiss was messy, uncoordinated, fueled by whatever storm was raging inside her. She tasted like alcohol and something sweeter underneath—something uniquely her.

She needed this. Needed me to erase something, to drown her in something else. And fuck, if I wasn't already halfway gone myself.

Her fingers tugged at my hair, nails scraping against my scalp as she moved against me, rolling her hips in a way that made my blood heat. My hands found her waist, fingers pressing into her soft flesh as I tried to steady her, but she only arched into me, as if she wanted more.

"June," I murmured against her lips, but she just kissed me harder, swallowing my voice.

I should stop this.

She was drunk, raw, emotional.

But then she whispered against my lips, "Don't stop. Please."

And I was fucking weak when it came to her.

One hand slid up her back, tilting her head so I could take control of the kiss, deepening it until she moaned into my mouth. I swallowed the sound, the vibration running straight through me, tightening every muscle in my body.

Her dress had already ridden up her thighs, exposing more of her smooth skin. My fingers skimmed over it, gripping her tighter as I pulled her flush against me.

She gasped into my mouth, and I felt it—felt the way her body shuddered at my touch, the way she melted against me, like she wanted to disappear into me completely.

"Let me forget," she murmured again, her lips brushing against mine, her voice so soft, so broken—

And something inside me snapped.

Possessiveness surged through me, dark and undeniable. I didn't know who had put that pain in her eyes tonight, but I knew one thing—

She was mine.

I leaned in, my lips brushing her ear as I murmured, "Then hold on, baby. Because I'm about to make sure you don't remember a damn thing but me."

Her sharp inhale was the only warning I gave her before I stood, lifting her effortlessly.

Her legs tightened around my waist, arms locked around my neck as I carried her through the party, not giving a single fuck about the people watching, whispering, snapping photos.

Let them.

Because tonight, June Matthews belonged to me.

Privacy. I needed it. We needed it.

My apartment was too far, and with how riled up June had made me, waiting wasn't an option. My blood was already burning, my control hanging by a damn thread.

So I took her to my car.

The second I opened the door, she was on me again—kissing me like I was the only thing keeping her alive, like she was desperate to escape whatever demons were clawing at her mind.

I slammed the door shut behind us, locking the world out. The dim streetlight outside cast a faint glow into the car, illuminating her flushed face, her swollen lips, the wild need in her eyes.

"Justin," she whispered, her breath warm against my skin as she straddled me in the driver's seat. Her dress had ridden up completely now, her thighs framing me, her body pressing down in a way that made it impossible to think straight.

"You sure?" I murmured, voice rough, my hands gripping her hips. She nodded frantically, her fingers already fumbling with my hoodie, yanking it up, desperate.

"Make me forget," she pleaded again.

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Fuck.

I yanked her forward, capturing her lips in a bruising kiss. My hands moved down, gripping her thighs, pulling her closer until there wasn't a single inch of space left between us. She gasped into my mouth, her fingers tangling in my hair, tugging hard enough to send a sharp thrill down my spine.

I growled against her lips, flipping us in the cramped space, pressing her into the seat. She arched up, her body molding to mine perfectly, as if she was made to fit against me.

"You wanna forget?" I murmured against her throat, my lips trailing down, leaving marks that told the whole damn world she was mine.

She whimpered, nodding, her breathing ragged.

"Then let me ruin you for anyone else, baby."

And with that, I lost myself completely.

I can't believe this.

For years, I had to settle for fantasies—imagining her while fucking someone else, pretending every moan, every gasp, every arch of their body belonged to her. But not tonight.

Tonight, it was June straddling me. June grinding against me like she was made for it. June looking at me with those desperate, pleading eyes.

No more pretending. No more fantasies.

This time, I got her.

And fuck, I was going to make sure she never forgot it.

I slipped off the sleeve of her dress, the fabric gliding down her smooth skin, exposing her shoulder, then lower—until her breasts were bared to me.

No bra.

Fuck.

She wasn't wearing a bra.

My breath hitched, my control snapping thread by thread. The cool air sent a shiver over her exposed skin, her nipples already hardened, whether from the chill or the way I was staring at her, I didn't know.

But I was done fantasizing.

She was mine tonight.

June's breath hitched as I ran my fingers down her bare skin, tracing the curve of her breast, feeling the rapid rise and fall of her chest beneath my touch. Her body was warm, soft, and completely at my mercy.

I groaned, gripping her hips as she straddled me, grinding down against my already rock-hard arousal. The small space of the car made it even more suffocating, the windows fogging up as our breaths mingled, heated and desperate.

She whimpered against my lips, her hands fisting my hoodie, pulling me closer, as if she wanted to crawl into my skin. Her lips were demanding, rough, desperate—like she was trying to erase something, trying to forget.

And I was willing to let her.

My hands roamed over her body, fingers digging into her thighs as I pulled her impossibly closer. The dress had ridden up completely, leaving nothing between us but the thin fabric of her panties, and fuck, I could feel her heat pressing against me, even through the layers of clothing still separating us.

"Justin..." she moaned, my name a whisper, a plea, and it fucking snapped something inside me.

I grabbed the back of her neck, crashing my lips to hers, kissing her with all the frustration, all the obsession, all the years of wanting and hating and needing her. She melted into me, molding against my body as I deepened the kiss, biting down on her lower lip, drawing out another desperate sound from her.

I slid a hand between her thighs, feeling the dampness already soaking through, and a dark satisfaction curled in my chest.

"You're soaked," I murmured against her lips, my voice low, almost dangerous. "Is this for me?"

She let out a breathless whimper, her head falling back, exposing the delicate curve of her throat.

I was losing it.

I was completely fucking losing it.

And she had no idea.

June's head fell back, her breath coming out in short, ragged gasps as I tightened my grip on her waist, grinding her down harder against me. My fingers dug into her hips, guiding her movements, making sure she felt just how hard I was beneath her.

She was already coming undone, her hands fisting the fabric of my hoodie, nails digging into my shoulders as I rolled my hips up, pressing against her heat.

"Justin—" she gasped, but I wasn't in the mood for talking.

I grabbed the back of her neck and crashed my lips to hers, swallowing whatever words she was about to say. The kiss was raw, messy—our teeth clashing, tongues fighting for dominance. She moaned against my mouth, her body arching into mine, pushing closer, like she couldn't get enough.

Good. Because I wasn't about to stop.

I tugged the top of her dress lower, exposing more of her bare skin, and immediately took one of her hardened nipples into my mouth, sucking hard. June let out a choked cry, her body jerking, pressing herself tighter against my lips.

"Fuck—" she whimpered, and I bit down, just hard enough to leave a mark, to remind her who was making her feel like this.

I pulled back, smirking at the sight of her—cheeks flushed, lips swollen, pupils blown wide with lust.

"You like it rough, don't you?" I murmured darkly, gripping her thighs and shifting her just enough to press against her clit, making her jolt in my lap.

She whimpered, trying to rock against me, but I held her still.

"Nuh-uh, princess," I taunted, dragging my fingers up her inner thigh, just barely grazing the damp fabric covering her core. "You wanted to forget, right?" I leaned in, my breath hot against her ear. "Then take it."

And with that, I flipped her onto her back against the seat, yanking her legs apart as she gasped in surprise. I pinned her wrists above her head, my grip firm, possessive. Her dress was bunched up at her waist now, leaving her completely exposed, her soaked panties the only thing keeping me from taking what I'd wanted for so long.

"Look at you," I growled, eyes raking over her writhing beneath me. "So desperate."

I dragged my fingers over the thin fabric, pressing against her swollen clit, watching as her body jerked from the contact.

"Please," she whimpered.

I grinned wickedly. "Beg."