The Treble With Men

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The Treble With Men Page 20

by Smartypants Romance


  “We haven’t even started,” I said.

  I took her mouth and kissed her, craving more of her taste. I needed to taste her tongue and devour her from the inside out. We moaned in unison as our heads tilted to accommodate tongues and lips, delving deep with exploration. One hand moved through her luscious, thick hair. The other one traced up her side, feeling every little response.

  I pressed a leg in between hers. She groaned and broke the kiss as my thigh pressed against her core. Even through two pairs of jeans, her heat burned my thigh. Fuck. She was so hot and responsive.

  Her pleasure was all that mattered now.

  Something shifted. What was once a languid, exploratory kiss inflamed into a wanton mouth fuck. Our tongues collided. Our fast, hot breaths filled the hall. Her hands scratched down the expanse of my back. They pulled and rubbed all over the muscles of my arms and shoulders. Her hips rocked against my leg. I hoped the seam of her jeans was in just the right spot. I wouldn’t stop until she came.

  I found her nipple and gently squeezed. That caused her to break our kiss and gasp out for air. “Devlin,” she gasped out.

  “Yes,” I growled.

  I loved her calling out my name like that. Fuck, I could flip a car.

  Since my mouth was no longer engaged, I lowered it to the nipple I’d been teasing. I sucked it into my mouth as both hands were filled with her breasts. I crouched a little to reach her and pulled her up harder onto my thigh. I nuzzled my face into her breasts, squeezing them together. All the while I flexed my leg muscles harder against her. She ground down against me, with abandon.

  “Erik, if you don’t stop I’m going to—”

  “I need you to come.”

  She gasped. “I—I feel so out of control. This is …”

  She was thinking too much.

  I stepped between her spread legs. I hefted her up on to me so that her ankles were forced to link to stay wrapped around me. It was nothing; she was weightless, and I was pure adrenaline. I had one goal. I pressed myself against her. I ground hard against her wanting center. She was so hot. We rocked in tandem.

  I groaned, dropping my forehead to hers and she grated out, “Devlin.”

  “Come. I need you to, Kim.”

  All at once, I kissed her mouth hard, cupped her breasts as I tugged her nipples, and rocked myself against her core.

  She tensed up and broke our kiss to gasp for air.

  Her fingernails dug into my shoulders. Her face twisted up with concentration and flushed cheeks. Jesus, she was so beautiful as she came apart.

  As she came back to me, I slowly moved myself away. I kissed her softly wherever my eyes found skin. Her fingers unclenched from my shoulders. I bet she left a mark. I wanted to take a picture and frame it to hang in my office to always remember the fierce pride I felt in this moment.

  Chapter 29

  Your talent is breathtaking.

  KIM

  I came back to my body slowly. That was … transformative. It sounded hokey, but even as I lived it, experienced it, I had changed and there was no going back. Deep down, a part of me worried about the shame that might come later. Against a wall. In the hall. Grinding against his erection like some hard-up teenager.

  But right now I didn’t worry about that. Devlin was kissing me softly.

  I sighed into him. “Thank you,” I said.

  He groaned and kissed me more but not greedily. He lavished me with tender love. I ran my hands down his tensed body and palmed his hardness, the hardness that helped me reach the peak.

  He stiffened when I cupped him.

  “You don’t have to.” He pulled on my wrist gently, but I was a girl on a mission.

  “I want to.” I’d had a peek of what was under there, but I needed more. I was greedy for it. I wanted to see all of him. Would I ever be satisfied with this man, my curiosity quelled?

  I unzipped him and slid my hand down between our bodies. He was dangerously hot and hard. I stroked down once just to feel the full length. We gasped in unison. My pace increased as his eye went even darker.

  “Another second of that and—” He thrust into my hand.

  There was no time to find the rhythm he needed. My grip tightened as he thrust again.

  “Shi—” He groaned out as he came into my hand.

  I grinned against his shoulder as he caught his breath. I was the cat that got the cream.

  “Sorry.” He panted. “I hadn’t planned on it.”

  “I liked it,” I said.

  And I did. I didn’t know what it said about me that I loved that we’d just made each other come like this. That desire was already tingling through me again, feeling his mess on me. The smell of our fooling around in the air was potent and heady. I loved every dirty second of it. I couldn’t think about what that said about me. Not now.

  I gently bit his shoulder.

  “No biting,” he chided.

  We both straightened to clean up. He handed me his shirt to wipe my hands and then used it to clean my stomach. God, I was a wreck for this man.

  “Probably need to wash this now.” He balled up the shirt and reached with his free hand to tuck some hair behind my ear. The look in his eyes caused my heart to flutter. Nobody had ever looked at me with such fierce softness. “I’ve been working you too hard.”

  He picked up my hands one at a time to kiss each palm softly.

  “Thank you,” I said again. “For everything. I feel …”

  He hugged me again. “Come on. It’s been a long day, let’s go to bed.”

  “Your bed?” I asked and wiggled my eyebrows.

  He growled again. “That’s not a good idea. I want you to sleep.”

  Heat flushed over my skin at the implication. He held my hand as he walked me upstairs to what I had come to think of as my room. I was ready to get out of the jeans that rubbed too tight on my tender flesh and put on fresh underwear. The naughty part of me loved feeling the signs of his effect on me. I couldn’t believe I had come that way. I couldn’t believe how he’d inflamed me. Even now, just thinking about it, holding his hand innocently as we walked, his thumb rubbing the tender skin of my wrist, caused new heat to bloom in me.

  At my door, he dropped his head to kiss me again. Chastely. Probably a good idea at this point. Apparently, it didn’t take much to get me going.

  “Get some sleep. When you’re ready, if you’re ready, we’ll start back up tomorrow,” he said. “With practice,” he added with a grin.

  “Sure.” I had been going for flirty, but a big yawn came out instead. Sleepiness hit me hard. Never underestimate the power of a great orgasm. But it was so much more than that.

  “I want to be good for you Devlin,” I said. “That’s all I want. To be good enough.”

  He closed his eyes as though pained. “You’ve always been good enough. I didn’t mean to make things worse. I was just trying to dig out the Kim that I remembered from camp.” He shook his head with a frown.

  “I’m trying to find her too,” I said.

  He smiled. “Well, good night. And thanks for that,” he blushed, and was so sweet I could die.

  “Are you kidding me? You just moved to the top of my Christmas card list,” I said.

  He coughed out a laugh. Moving into my space, his face fell serious again. “Watching you come was a gift.” He bit my bottom lip gently before kissing me.

  He walked away, and with him went my heart.

  Sleep had hit me so hard, I woke up in the same exact position I’d fallen asleep in, wondering what year it was. My phone illuminated the dark room telling me it was still very early the following morning. Devlin would still be sleeping.

  I dropped my head back to the pillow and sighed. I felt lighter than I had in years. I hadn’t realized how much I needed to talk to somebody about my past. I would still need time to heal, but fear didn’t grip me as it had.

  To my immense relief, when I replayed the night before, shame didn’t come crashing down on me. Only drowsy pl
easure. But a niggling something else tickled the back of my mind. Like remembering that you left your curling iron half a day later. No, that wasn’t it. A bigger something. It had been years since I had experienced this. I sat up in bed.

  There was no time to wait. When the feeling struck, you didn’t wait. I slid a robe over my nightgown and into some slippers. Do not pass go. Do not collect two hundred dollars. Just move.

  It was inspiration. I was desperate to play my cello. It had been such a habit for so many years, I didn’t have time to miss it. Now, I felt it. An excitement to play. I wasn’t afraid of the dark anymore, knowing Devlin was nearby. I shuffled through the dark house and down to basement where my cello waited for me. It glinted in the soft light, winking, like it knew I’d coming crawling back. It was ready. I was ready.

  Time to play. I didn’t bother with turning on the brighter overhead lights. I wouldn’t be reading music and the soft glow from the recessed bulbs was enough. The scratch of the rosin along the hair of my bow instantly soothed. The cello tuned perfectly in the climate-controlled room. It nuzzled into my body and I warmed up my fingers with scales and arpeggios. When I was ready, I didn’t even have to decide what to play. His piece had been welded into my brain. I knew every note.

  But as it was currently written, it didn’t fit my current state. My mood was a slow gondola-ride through an underground lagoon with swirling mist and stacked candles all around. His piece was written as a roller coaster ride on a sunny summer day.

  I took his composition and wrapped my emotions around the music, slowing the tempo to suit my mood. And just like that, the notes flowed out. I was connected to my instrument and the music felt transcendent. For the first time in what felt like forever, I was able to let go of my regret and fear and just focus on Devil’s words. What would be the message I left behind? How did I want people to feel when they heard me play? The message was love. It was the feeling of being cherished. It was pure and unadulterated. It was everything that was good in life.

  Heat travelled across my arms and torso as the robe began to rub against my movements, interfering. I forced myself to place the bow down and ripped my robe off, freeing my arms.

  My hair fell loose, sticking to my skin, and tugging as my fingers blurred and my arms pushed and dipped and pulled and floated. There was only this moment. This understanding.

  This was what I’d been missing these last few years. I’d been missing a reminder of everything I loved about playing the cello. Why I loved music. I was at home. This wasn’t ugly ambition. This was love. As my feelings expanded and ignited, the tempo naturally increased and my body moved to keep up. My eyes were shut tight and all I could do was feel. It was magical. This was what it should feel like. This was what playing was all about. Transcendence. I was the instrument for the message being conveyed. We were one.

  Chapter 30

  Practice when it’s easy; practice more when it’s hard.

  DEVLIN

  Sleep never came easy with her in the house to begin with. My body was on constant edge. Her energy vibrated and disturbed me to my very core. After making her come with only my touches and kisses, there was a risk I’d never rest again. Inspiration had struck. New bits of symphonies and tunes haunted me as I tried to sleep. I gave up the ghost hours ago and came down to get it all out of my head and onto sheet music. My head was filled with her scent. Her softs sounds rang through my ears. Her taste still hung on my tongue.

  I scribbled a new piece at my desk when the first notes came to me. My pencil stopped moving. I lifted my head from my hunched position, desperate to hear more.

  Kim.

  It was the same passion I’d heard all those weeks before when I’d listened from my secret office. The music tightened my body, quickened my breaths. As though being summoned, I stood to find the source. The music carried me toward her, stalking like an apparition.

  She was back in the rehearsal room practicing.

  I gripped the wall to keep from gasping and breaking her trance. She played in the dark but there was enough light to see her eyes were closed. Her entire body and mind were wrapped in the music—as it should be. This was what I had been trying to draw from her these past months. She played as all music should be played. Not how the composer wrote it but as her body guided her. As her instinct drove her. It was perfection.

  My eyes drifted shut to listen better. Chills spread over my skin. How were these the same notes I’d thrown together? It didn’t even feel like my music anymore. I didn’t want or deserve the credit. The music sped up—moved from a dream-like state to something more sensual.

  In between the notes, her inhales of breath sounded like the gasps she made when I touched her. It was the most erotic sound imaginable.

  As much as I told myself to only listen to the music, my eyes opened. They were greedy to absorb every flash of skin. Her hair was down and pushed over her right shoulder. Straight strands stuck to her damp skin. The sheer fabric of her nightgown was barely held up by one hard nipple. Every sway of her body tested the ability of the material to hold on. My body hardened at the sight. Her creamy thigh was fully exposed with her legs spread so wide to accommodate the instrument. What I wouldn’t give to run my hand up that skin. I would give up everything.

  I panted along with her. Her head fell back. That neck had taunted me before. I wanted my tongue running up that expanse of skin. I wanted to test the weight of her peaked breasts. I wanted to stand in place of her cello with her legs open. I wanted to sink myself into her. I wanted to lose myself inside her. I wanted.

  Her bow pulled across the string playing one last, slow note. Her body heaved as did mine. When I lifted my eyes to hers, her gaze was intent on me.

  If that instrument wasn’t blocking her, I’d be able to see everything. Had my music undone her?

  “Something like that?” she asked breathlessly.

  My gaze returned to her face. I swallowed with difficulty. How long had she known I was standing there?

  I walked until I was in front of her. I took the cello and gently lay it on its side. I took the bow and set that down as well. I took my time. Every movement was careful and deliberate. Then I knelt before her.

  Her eyes followed my every action. Her eyelids were heavy with what I now recognized as desire. She didn’t shift her position, her legs remained splayed, the nightgown bunched up revealing her. I swallowed.

  “Perfection,” I said with a raspy voice.

  I rested one hand on each knee and slowly slid them to the top of her thighs. My thumbs met at her core, finding it hot and soaking wet.

  “Did you get wet from playing?” I asked.

  She shook her head. Her skin flushed from her chest to her cheeks. “From you watching me.”

  As she spoke the thin silk strap of her nightgown finally fell down and her breast was exposed. She sucked in her bottom lip. I leaned forward and blew gently on her nipple until it pebbled. My tongue flicked out to caress it once, while my thumbs continued to rub in soft circles.

  “You like when I watch you?” I asked in a deep rumbling voice, already knowing everything.

  I let one of my thumbs slide under the fabric of her underwear, meeting the slickness and swirling it around.

  “Yes,” she gasped out.

  “I like watching you. I liked making you come too.”

  She didn’t speak, only ground against my thumb until I slipped inside her, just enough to tease. She inhaled sharply.

  “I liked it when you were in my bed too,” I said. “How we woke up with each other.”

  Her eyes shot open with shock as I pushed my thumb fully into her. As she gasped, I felt her flex around me.

  “I was so embarrassed.” Her cheeks burned bright, and her hands gripped the chair at her sides.

  “Our bodies knew what we wanted before we did. I haven’t stopped thinking about it since that night.”

  “Me too. I felt guilty, though. Dirty,” she whispered.

  With that wor
d, dirty, heat flashed through me. I was on fire. I needed more from her. Her skin was flushed as she writhed again, unable to keep still.

  “There was nothing to feel guilty about,” I said.

  I lowered my mouth back to her breast and sucked on her.

  “God, the things I have thought about since that night.” I broke away to say, “Since you saw me naked. How many times I’ve thought about …”

  I shifted to suck on her other breast. I was so turned on I was about to fucking burst. The dirty talk was obviously working for her, but I didn’t want her to hear the truth behind it. I still didn’t think she was ready.

  “Tell me,” she gasped out. “Tell me what you’ve thought about.”

  I looked up at her as her breast popped out of my mouth. “Curiosity killed the cat.” As I said it, I moved my thumb up and down, every so often teasing her with a quick tap. Every time, a tiny tremor shook her.

  “Oh God.” She grabbed my head, digging her nails into my scalp. “Magic fingers Devlin,” she mumbled.

  I chuckled as I nuzzled the area between her breasts, inhaling her scent. “I’ve thought about this. Touching you. Seeing you. All of you.” I leaned back and took in her whole figure. Disheveled, flushed, panting, wet. “You are magnificent.”

  “Wh-what else?” she asked.

  I grinned up at her. “I thought about rolling over in bed that night and sinking into you. I knew you were ready for me. I think about that a lot.”

  “Erik,” she groaned.

  Yes. It was just her and me. Nobody else. No memories, no pasts, no associations. Just this moment.

  I lowered my mouth to her core, underwear still pushed to the side, and flicked her once with my tongue.

  Her legs tried to squeeze shut. I could have stayed like that forever, but my knees were starting to ache and we both needed more. I was deciding what to do next when Kim made the decision for me.

  Kim said, “Ah, screw it,” and pushed my shoulders until I stumbled back on to the floor rather clumsily. A second later she stood up, letting the other strap of her nightgown fall. The whole thing slid right off her body. She pulled her panties all the way off, shimmying out of them.

 

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