Текст книги "Strings Attached"

Автор книги: Stephanie Julian

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 7 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

“You got it, babe.” He leaned down to kiss her cheek, his attention so focused on getting to a piano that he barely realized what he was doing.

However, he couldn’t help but notice Tru watching his every move.

Was she jealous that he’d kissed Sabrina?

Yeah, how stupid are you? She doesn’t give a flying fuck what you do.

She’d avoided him all night. Well, not noticeably but she hadn’t sat next to him or initiated any kind of conversation.

But, damn it, he’d wanted her to.

“Tru, come with me. I’m gonna need your phone to record if mine craps out. My battery’s low.”

Every word was true. He hadn’t had enough time to charge his phone when he’d gotten back to his suite before coming here.

But, yeah, he had an ulterior motive. He wanted her with him.

Setting yourself up for a fall, asshole.

Fuck it. He didn’t care.

For a second, he thought she might just give him her phone but she nodded right away.

“Sure. But you can use my tablet. It’ll record longer and I’ve got the cord with me.”

Ah, Tru’s tablet. He barely ever saw her without the thing attached to her hand.

“A good woman to have around.”

He’d meant it as a compliment but he wasn’t sure she took it that way because she looked back at Sabrina, who watched them with wide eyes.

Then Sabrina cocked an eyebrow at him, a silent question which he refused to answer.

“Thanks for tonight. I had fun, babe.”

Which was completely true. Just not the whole story.

The elevator ride to the lobby was quiet. Either Tru knew he was trying to hold on to the fragments of a melody or she just didn’t have anything to say to him.

He really hoped it was the former, but he couldn’t dwell on it because the melody was morphing already, getting away from him.

By the time the elevator doors opened, he’d added a few measures and his fingers itched for the piano keys.

He practically sprinted for the atrium, blocking out everything but the music in his head. He had the vague sense of Tru’s presence, which calmed him in a weird way, but he couldn’t let that intrude right now.

Luckily, she didn’t say anything at all, and when he finally made it through the atrium to the music room, she had her tablet out and was pulling up the recording app as he sat down at the baby grand.

A second later, she laid the tablet out in front of him.

“Here you go.”

Then she took a step back.

“Stay.”

His gaze caught hers and held. And the music continued to play through his brain.

She probably thought he was a complete basket case with a whole lot of asshole thrown in. Hell, after last night, he really wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d smacked him and told him to fuck off.

So he really was kind of surprised when she nodded. Stepping away from the piano, she settled into the only other chair in the room, a small armless upholstered one that Greg had had delivered one day. Sebastian figured Greg had wanted Sabrina to have a decent place to sit when she used to sit and listen to him play. Before Greg had outfitted the studio at ManDown for him.

Greg was thoughtful like that. Then again, he’d probably given the task to Tru. Hell, she’d probably picked the damn chair.

Shit. Stop. Focus.

Pulling his gaze away from hers, he looked down at the keys and shoved everything except the music out of his mind.

*   *   *

Tru watched Baz as his fingers began to work the keys and music poured out.

It sounded nothing like the music she’d heard for the score. That music had a flow to it. This had definite breaks where the rhythm changed.

She knew it would sound much different when played with two guitars, a bass, and drums. She couldn’t quite hear it but she knew it’d be amazing.

It also didn’t sound anything like the other piece he’d played this morning. The piece he’d worked on after finishing the score.

She’d hear this in her sleep tonight. And she’d dream about him playing. Probably while he was naked.

Who would blame her, especially if they could see him now?

God, the man made her wet. Just by playing the piano. She wanted to squirm in her seat to relieve the ache building between her thighs but was afraid she’d draw his attention. And she didn’t want to be a distraction.

She loved watching him play. How he hunched over the keys and how the muscles in his arms bulged and flexed.

He played with so much passion that her body responded. Her lungs worked harder to draw in air. Her muscles tightened and clenched, especially low in her body.

The music made her blood beat along in time.

She knew the music would be nothing she’d ever choose to listen to by the time his band actually recorded it, but this . . . this was raw and melodic and completely Sebastian.

Because she was pretty sure he was so wrapped up in his music he’d forgotten she was there at all, she allowed herself to watch him unabashedly.

Since he kept his hair short, she easily saw his face. Cheekbones drawn into sharp relief by the furrow of his brows and the way he bit his bottom lip.

Then her gaze slipped down to his arms and, oh my god, she couldn’t breathe. The muscles bulged and strained, shown off by the short sleeves of another band t-shirt. She had no idea what this one said because all she could see were those muscles. So much strength.

Same went for his chest. Broad and muscled.

Christ, she was ogling him like a slice of cake.

She hadn’t even done this to the parade of actors who’d passed through their Hollywood offices. Sure, they’d been handsome and fit with nice smiles. But after the first two or three had tried to seduce her into helping them further their careers, she’d learned to look through them and not at them.

She’d reduced them to products. Handsome, talking products but nothing more. It’d been easy to keep her distance.

She was having a hell of a lot of trouble keeping her distance now.

And why should you?

They’d proved last night that they had amazing chemistry. Her heart rolled over just thinking about how he’d made her come in a semipublic place, something she never would’ve thought possible simply because she was a prude.

Okay, prude wasn’t the right word. She was careful about sex. She took it seriously and didn’t allow anyone in her bed who she couldn’t hold a conversation with the next day.

But she’d never expected to fall for someone like Sebastian.

She didn’t do bad boys, not in any way, shape, or form. She wasn’t one of those girls who thought the asshole who treated girls like crap just needed the right one to reform him. Or that the guy who slept with a different girl every night just needed to meet the one who could hold his attention.

Bullshit. Just so much bullshit.

Those guys were douchebags and always would be.

But Sebastian’s not a douche.

Which was where reality butted up against her beliefs.

Beliefs that had gotten her this far. To a great job she loved and a group of friends she’d never thought she’d have.

She’d had a few good friends in high school whom she kept in contact with and saw whenever she could. But they’d all remained in their hometown. Tru had been the only one to move away.

Yeah, it’d been lonely at first, but she’d been working three jobs to feed and house herself so it wasn’t like she’d had a whole lot of time for socializing. Her downtime had been spent interviewing for jobs.

And then she’d landed the perfect job with Greg, and she’d been so damn busy she hadn’t realized she didn’t have any friends in Hollywood, only acquaintances who were all related to her job. Except for Greg.

And then they’d moved out here and Sabrina had become a friend. And Kate and Annabelle and Talia, who they’d hired to plan the opening parties for the new film, were becoming friends. She and Talia had a lot in common.

What did she and Sebastian have in common?

Head still bent over the keys, eyes narrowed almost to the point of being closed, he looked sort of manic. Given his previous troubles with drugs, she should’ve been worried about that.

She should—

Abruptly, the music stopped and her gaze snapped wide as he took a deep breath and pushed away from the piano.

With a sigh, he reached for the tablet and turned off the recording.

Then he handed the tablet back to her.

“Thanks. I’d appreciate it if you’d e-mail it to me.”

She took the tablet. “Is writing music always like this for you?”

Running a hand through his hair, he frowned. “Like what?”

“Like . . . it’s almost painful.”

He winced, but she wasn’t sure he realized he’d done it.

“Sometimes. Usually only when I’m working on the piano. If I’m working on a guitar, no. I don’t know why. It’s just not the same.”

Okay, he had an edge to his voice, which she interpreted to mean he didn’t want to talk. At least, he didn’t want to talk to her. And that hurt.

Shaking her head, she stood. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to pry—”

“Shit.” He stood in front of her, blocking her way to the door. “You’re not prying, Tru. Sorry. I’ve just . . . There’s a lot of shit going through my head. Usually it helps to play. Tonight . . .” He sighed. “Not so much.”

She debated pressing him to open up for all of two seconds. “Do you want to talk? You can go back upstairs to Sabrina or . . . you can talk to me. I’m a good listener.”

He huffed, his mouth curving in a wry smile, one that she felt like a caress, as if he’d reached out and run his fingers down her cheek. “Is there anything you’re not good at, Tru?”

Was that a dig? Damn him, she couldn’t be sure.

“And no, that wasn’t a dig.”

Shit, had she become so easy to read?

“I’m serious here,” Sebastian continued. “Because, honestly, I’m so damn bad at so fucking much that, even if you have only one little flaw, it’ll make me feel better.”

“How can you say that? You make music that millions of people love. And the score you created for the film is amazing.”

“Thanks. But everything else in my life is so fucked up and I don’t have a clue how to fix it. Every relationship I have is totally screwed because of one really stupid mistake. And I don’t know how the hell to talk to anyone about it.”

Was he talking about the fact that he’d almost died last year? She couldn’t imagine that he could mean anything else.

“So talk to me. You think I’m so damn smart, let me show you.”

But still he paused.

“Sebastian.” She reached for his hand hanging in a fist by his side and wrapped her fingers around it. The pain in his expression made her want to wrap her arms around him, but she wasn’t sure she should. Wasn’t sure how he’d take it or even what she meant by it. “Tell me.”

His eyes closed and she held her breath for another few seconds before he sucked in air and opened his eyes to stare straight into hers.

“Life’s so fucking easy when I’m on tour. I do a show, and then I get on the bus and head for the next city. I spend hours in small spaces with people I’ve known almost all my life. Friends I consider brothers. We know more about each other than our parents do.

“They’re the only people I have a connection to when I’m on tour. I could sleep with a different girl every night, but the next morning, I’d get up and say, ‘Thanks and I’ll see you later.’ No connections. You don’t get attached and you don’t have all this fucking mess.”

Tru nodded, her heart aching for the hurt she heard in his voice. Even though she wanted to smack him for sleeping with all those girls. For making her care that he’d slept with so many others . . . who weren’t her.

She tried to keep her expression neutral but she didn’t think she was doing such a good job because his mouth twisted again and he started to shake his head.

“That detachment was part of the problem, part of what pushed me over the edge. We’d been on the road for two fucking years. I felt like a fucking exposed wire. Constantly fighting the jitters, too much fucking noise in my head. Living in a bus with four other guys I love like brothers but never having any solitude. And it’s never quiet. There’s always music or motor noise or Zach drumming on something, anything he could get his hands on.

“And Nik . . . Jesus, Nik always had problems. I was always the sane one, the stable one.”

Yes, she knew exactly what that was like. That’d been her. Her dream had been to get the hell out of her one-stoplight hometown and move to Hollywood, so she’d devoted almost every waking second to making that dream come true, to the exclusion of drunken barn parties and boyfriends and school dances.

In the same way Sebastian had wanted to be a rock star.

“And then Nik fell in love.”

Okay, not what she’d expected to hear.

“The problem was I was sleeping with her, too.”

Wow. Totally not what she’d expected.

“So she was cheating on Nik with you?”

“No.”

Her brain stuttered a few times, processing that. It wasn’t like she didn’t know about ménages. It’s just that . . . What?

She shook her head. “I’m not sure I understand.”

His mouth twisted. “Obviously I didn’t, either. I thought we were having fun. Nik thought he’d found the girl he was gonna spend the rest of his life with. And Roxy thought she’d found a meal ticket.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh. She also figured if she told Nik she was pregnant, it would help him get a ring on her finger that much faster. And that’s where it all went to hell.”

“Because you didn’t know whose baby it was.”

He sneered. “Because she wasn’t pregnant. And when I found out and told Nik, he told me I was full of shit. Then he found out I was right. Doesn’t sound like enough to push someone over the edge, does it?”

“How can anyone who’s not living in your head say that?”

He laughed but the sound held no amusement. “Be nice if the world worked like that, wouldn’t it? If everything had a reasonable conclusion.”

“But we all know that doesn’t happen. And I’m sure that’s not the entire story.”

“You’re sure, huh? Yeah, well, you’d be right.”

She wondered if he was going to share the rest. She wanted him to share the rest, to open up to her.

“On tour, the one person I could always count on to be there for me was Nik. We were each other’s rock. And when that went to shit, I lost it. We’d been on the road so long and it seemed like it would never end. We were all strung out. Nik and I were barely talking, and I honestly thought we were through. Turns out I’m the only one who thought that. Nik was pissed and hurt but he got past it. I was the one who couldn’t.

“I started to drink a little more, medicate a little more. But I wasn’t out of control. And yeah, I know that’s exactly what an addict would say, but even my doctor at rehab admitted I don’t have a chemical-abuse problem. Yeah, I took too many pills one night and nearly killed myself, but that’s why they’re called accidental overdoses. I had no desire to kill myself. I just wanted to make that little voice in my head shut the fuck up for one fucking night. But I drank too much alcohol, didn’t have enough food or water, and lost track of the pills.”

The guilt written so plainly on his face made her long to pull him down for a kiss. Even after last night, she still didn’t think she had the right. And she wasn’t sure he’d want her to.

“And this is where I become the biggest fucking coward on earth. I went through rehab because I knew I wouldn’t have to deal with anyone for a month. And when I got out, it was just still easier not to deal with anyone.”

“So what happened to change that? How’d you wind up here, at Haven?”

“My dad. He’s friends with Tyler through a music program they both support. One for classical pianists. That’s what I was supposed to be. A classical pianist. At least, that’s what my parents thought I should be.”

“I understand you were something of a prodigy.”

He nodded, grimacing. “My parents are both academics. Mom teaches high school, and Dad teaches college. He’s pretty damn far up the tenure track at Wilkes-Barre University. My mom teaches AP math, physics, and chemistry. And they had this musically inclined son, who they figured was going to go to a renowned music school and make them proud. And they wound up with a kid who wanted to play loud, filthy music with a group of guys who barely finished high school.”

Yep, this had all the makings of a Shakespearean tragedy. Or a John Hughes movie.

“We can’t help what we love.”

He shook his head, breaking their stare to look down at her hand on his. “Sure we can. At least, we can choose not to pursue it. To throw away all the scholarships and the competitions and the hours of practice and the thousands of dollars on private tutors and music lessons.”

“But your parents support you now.”

“They came around, yeah. But that doesn’t mean they don’t still wish I was holed up in some conservatory auditorium having champagne after a concert instead of drinking beer and Jack Daniels in the green room of a stadium they’ve never heard of, where fifteen thousand people screamed for an hour and a half holding their middle finger in the air and left the pit bleeding.”

The image made her smile for some reason because she could see Sebastian onstage, playing, riling the crowd into even more of a frenzy.

His expression changed in a heartbeat, from self-mocking to that intense concentration she’d come to recognize.

She wanted him to kiss her. Wanted him to focus that concentration on kissing her. And possibly on throwing her up against the nearest wall and—

“What just went through your head?”

His low tone made her swallow and try to draw in a deep breath because, once again, she couldn’t seem to get enough oxygen.

And those blue-green eyes saw exactly what she didn’t want him to see.

“I’m gonna give you an out tonight, Tru.” He sounded so reasonable right now. Steady and calm. “One I didn’t give you last night. I’m not sorry about that because I wanted to kiss you. Hell, I wanted to do a hell of a lot more but I’d never force you into anything.”

And he hadn’t forced her last night. Not at all.

“But you’re gonna have to say it, Tru. Last night,” he paused and shook his head, as if searching for the right words, “was fucking amazing. But I should’ve asked.”

She shook her head. “If you’d asked, I would’ve told you no. And that would’ve been a lie.”

His fist relaxed and his hand twisted in hers, lacing their fingers together. His other hand lifted to cup her cheek, fingers brushing along her skin just as she’d imagined him doing earlier.

“Then, what do you say now?”

She swallowed hard. “I want you to kiss me.”

She could barely hear her own words, and she hoped like hell he had because she wasn’t sure she could get them past the dryness of her throat again.

When his mouth quirked into one of those smiles she was beginning to crave, the ones she’d only seen him give her, she knew he was going to do exactly what she’d asked for. And more.

“Whatever you want, sweetheart.”

He leaned down, so slowly she couldn’t wait. Instead, she lifted up onto her toes and sealed their lips together, as if another millisecond would be too long to wait.

But where she would’ve rushed, he refused to allow it.

The hand cupping her cheek slid back into her hair, cupping her head and tilting her so he could get a better angle on her mouth, controlling the pace of the kiss. When he had her where he wanted her, he slipped his tongue between her lips and proceeded to dominate her.

It wasn’t like she didn’t know he was going to do it. Hell, she was looking forward to it.

All that control she exercised all day melted into submission when he had his hands on her. And he knew exactly how to make her beg for it.

He kissed her even more expertly this time, as if he was learning exactly what she liked, what made her sigh and squirm. Which was anything he did to her.

She craved it all. The way his hand cupped her head, then moved to wrap her hair around his fingers. The way he tugged back her head, making her scalp sting and her skin flush with heat. The way her body felt electrified at every point of contact.

Moaning into his mouth, her arms wrapped around his waist and pulled him closer, until the ridge behind his zipper pressed against her lower stomach. Already hard and throbbing, his cock encouraged her to rub her pelvis against his, making him groan and kiss her hard enough that their teeth clacked together.

He seemed to lose a little more of his control with each pass of his tongue against hers and she liked that, too.

His free hand roamed the expanse of her back, stroking along her spine until she wished like hell that he’d stick that hand under her shirt and touch her bare skin. Or better yet, strip off her shirt and her bra and put his hands all over her.

She shuddered just thinking about it. Which made him tug her closer.

Not bad, but not what she wanted.

She’d need to show him. No problem there.

Her hands slid to his waist, grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it up until she had her hands on his skin. Warm flesh that she knew was covered with ink. An allure all its own.

Later, she wanted to explore that ink with her hands and her tongue but right now she wanted to feel his naked skin pressed against hers.

She kept pulling his shirt up until he drew back and stared down at her.

“You want that off?”

His tone held a hint of humor but his expression was all lustful intent. When she nodded, he reached a hand behind his back and tugged the shirt over his head in one smooth movement, taking her breath away.

My god. He was gorgeous.

Her gaze fell on his chest, now completely bare. Even more muscled than she’d expected. And with beautiful art decorating the skin.

She immediately reached out to trace the words written in script across his left pectoral.

“Lyrics.”

She hadn’t asked a question but he answered anyway. “Yes. To the first song Nik and I wrote.”

Fallen angels, black wings

Where the light meets the dark

Never falter, never fail

Never will we part

On the right side of his chest, a pair of black angel wings shed their feathers down over his ribs and one lone feather peeked out of over the top of his waistband. Her gaze stayed on that for several seconds before she saw the ink that curved around his left hip. Tread marks, as if someone had run over his body.

Stepping around him, she followed their path. He’d released his hold on her so she could move, and now she stood at his back, trailing her fingers over the complete set of piano keys inked diagonally across. She wished she knew how to play because she so wanted to run her fingers along his skin in some meaningful way.

Around the keys, swirls and patterns in brilliant color made the stark black and white stand out even more. Mixed into the pattern were more angel feathers, a guitar, and musical notes.

“This is beautiful.”

She ran her fingers along the ink, practically hearing the tinkle of the keys.

“I go to the same artist for all my ink.”

Leaning forward, she pressed a kiss to the center of his back, right over one of the feathers.

“Aw, fuck.”

Bending forward, he put his hands on top of the piano and went still, as if waiting for her to continue.

She had no plans to stop.

Wrapping her arms around his waist, she flattened her hands over his stomach, feeling the muscles clench into tight ridges. Then she kissed her way across the keyboard until she’d hit every last key.

His warm skin felt soft and supple under her lips. She wanted to lick the spicy scent of him into her mouth and nuzzle her nose into the hollow of his throat.

Raking her fingers across his stomach, she loved the sound of his groan as he hunched forward a bit more.

She loved knowing how much she affected him.

Suddenly, she wanted him to be the one begging tonight.

Fingers restless and curious, she gripped the button on his jeans between her fingers and popped it through the hole.

His back rose and fell at a faster pace with each passing minute and, when she slid her fingers beneath the now-loosened waistband, she felt him shudder before stilling when she brushed against the satin-soft tip of his cock.

“Tru—”

“Quiet.”

He fell silent, though she clearly heard every breath he took. Music to her ears and so damn sexy. Her panties were already damp beneath her jeans and becoming more uncomfortable with every second.

She wanted to turn him around and force him to make her come again, like he had last night.

But first . . .

She let her thumb rub over the head of his cock, slicking the moisture gathered there. She wanted to spread that moisture all the way down the shaft but to do that, she needed to unzip his jeans.

Leaving one hand to play with the head, she used the other to draw down his zipper. With her cheek against his back, she tugged at the side of his jeans with one hand but didn’t make much headway pulling them down.

He took one of his hands off the piano and tugged on the other side which loosened them enough for her hand to slip farther inside.

“Tru.”

She was pretty sure he wasn’t trying to tell her to stop but she did because she didn’t want him to be distracted. At least not completely.

“Hmm?”

“You sure?”

“Sebastian. I’ve got my hand down your pants. I don’t think it got there by accident.”

He laughed, which turned into a groan as she moved her hand down his shaft to cup his balls.

“I know exactly what I’m doing.”

“Glad to hear it. Christ, Tru.”

She began to pump his cock with slow, steady strokes, rubbing her palm in the moisture leaking from the tip, then smoothing it down the shaft.

Part of her couldn’t believe what was happening between them. Another part was too freaking turned on to care about anything but making him lose control. Just like he’d made her lose hers last night.

She wanted to hear him cry out her name when he came.

While she continued to stroke his cock, she let her other hand glide back up his abdomen. She played her fingers in the soft hair trailing from his navel to the root of his cock, then moved to his abs and his pecs. His chest rose and fell in an increasingly jagged rhythm, and when she flicked his nipples, he groaned again and let his head drop down even farther.

They stood there entwined for several minutes, Tru teasing him with carnal purpose and Sebastian allowing her complete access. Which simply made her that much more hot for him.

She kept her pace deliberately slow. The silky skin of his cock slid through her hand, the heat emanating from the organ warming her palm. Cuddling closer, she let her hand drift down to his balls again and rolled them with her fingers, causing him to thrust into her hand.

“Harder.”

That one word said in his low growl made her pussy clench. God, she’d almost orgasmed. She wanted to come but knew it’d be better if she drew out the pleasure as long as she could.

Pressing her lips to his back again, she picked up the pace. And tweaked his nipple.

“Yeah. Fuck. That’s—”

He turned abruptly and she gasped, releasing him before she could hurt him.

He barely gave her time to draw in a breath before he had his mouth over hers again and his naked cock wedged against her belly.

Her arms wrapped around his waist as he grabbed her shoulders and pulled her against him. Her hands flattened on his back as their chests pressed together, then immediately sank down to spread over his ass. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on the man and he had a damn fine ass.

But before she could caress her way back to his cock, he sat on the piano bench and slid his hands under her shirt, shoving it up until he had her breasts uncovered.

Staring down into his eyes, she saw they’d darkened to a stormy gray.

“Take it off.”

She didn’t hesitate to obey his rough command and she saw what looked like triumph cross his features. As if he imagined she wouldn’t do whatever he asked.

Probably better he didn’t know she’d do anything for him right now.

So she hesitated and raised an eyebrow at him. Which just made him smile.

Arrogant bastard. How could something that drove her so crazy during the light of day make her want to strip him naked and ride his cock at night?

What had changed since yesterday morning?

But then she stared into his eyes and saw the way he looked at her and completely lost her train of thought. Because the way he stared at her, as if he wanted to devour her whole, was exactly why she was about to take off her shirt for him.

Breathing became much more difficult as she reached for the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head. But when she began to reach around to take off her bra, he stopped her by shaking his head.

“No, I get to do that. It’s all I’ve been thinking about for days.”

She couldn’t tell if he meant just the past two days or if it’d been longer.

Then her brain stuttered and stopped as he sat forward and wrapped his arms around her so he could reach her bra clasp. Which brought him close enough for her to feel his breath against her skin.

If he leaned forward just a little farther, he’d be able to put his mouth on the upper swells of her breasts. She wanted him to do it, her nipples tight and achy. He’d know as soon as he got her bra off how much she wanted him.

At this point, she didn’t care how much she gave away. She only wanted him to give her pleasure. And relief.

With his gaze holding hers, he unclipped the pretty lace bra she’d debated wearing tonight. It had almost seemed like she was giving him permission by choosing it.

Ridiculous. And absolutely right.

The bra straps loosened and she shrugged her shoulders just the right way to get the straps to fall. But with her arms at her side, the bra stuck in place.

She lifted her arms just enough to let the bra drop. His gaze continued to hold hers for several seconds before he let himself look at her breasts.

She wouldn’t say she had the best-looking boobs in the world but they weren’t the ugliest, either. And the way Sebastian was looking at them, he obviously found them nice enough.

The hands he’d spread across her back slid to her ribs, and then, finally, to her breasts. He cupped them gently at first, as if he were afraid she’d run. But when her head tipped back and she moaned softly under her breath, he began to knead her harder.

Yes. Just like that.

Each finger felt like fire against her skin, the rough texture of his own tantalizing in ways she’d never experienced before. Eyes closed, she sank into the sensation as he brought his mouth into play.

He pressed a kiss against one tight nipple, stopping her lungs for several seconds. Her hands found their way to his shoulders as he proceeded to heat her blood to boiling. His lips opened over the tip and sucked it into his mouth, using his teeth to scrape against the sensitive skin, sending shivers through her. His hands clasping her tighter, he played her into a frenzy with his teeth and tongue.