Sing to Me (Rock Me Book 3)

by Lee Piper

  A groan. A curse. Followed by a hot, impatient mouth devouring my breasts. His hands cup the swollen mounds, squeezing and molding them with his expert touch. Tipping my head back, I moan.

  “That’s right. Tell everyone who can hear us that these luscious tits are mine.” He palms them before pushing them together and pinching the taut peaks. Acute need darts to my center, and I roll my hips, craving more.

  Drake drops to his knees, his hands and lips marking every inch of my body. I run fingers through his dark hair, marveling at how soft it is. I love how a man with so many hard edges has such yielding features. The contrast is endearing.

  “This stomach is mine.” White teeth mark my skin, and I gasp. “Your curves are mine. This mole right here?” A tongue darts out to ease the sting. “Definitely mine.” Long fingers splay across my lower back, encompassing all of it. “Everything about you. This ass.... Fuck.”

  He rips open my jeans and peels them from my body. Gone are the slow, deliberate movements from before. Fueled with desire, Drake removes my pants, boots, and socks until I’m left standing in nothing but a scrap of lace posing as panties.

  His nostrils flare.

  I arch my back.

  Kneading hands shift from my bare feet to my calves. They circle behind my knees, glide over the back of my thighs and come to rest on the globes of my ass. Dexterous fingers slip beneath the lace of my G-string and clench. “There are no fucking words to describe how much I need you right now.”

  I’ve never felt more beautiful.

  With a sharp tug, my panties are gone. Demolished. Strips of black lace flutter to the ground like tissue paper in the breeze.

  When he sees my bare pussy, Drake’s eyes widen. He drops his head, shaking it. After taking a steadying breath, he lifts his gaze once more. It’s darker this time, carnal and ravenous. Kneeling before me, he looks like he’s willing to sacrifice his most prized possession at a sacred alter. With a tortured groan, the agonized lead singer murmurs, “Christ. Look at you.”

  My heart swells.

  “Need to taste you. Now.”

  Without a moment’s hesitation, Drake grasps my leg and places it over his broad shoulder.

  His hands deliberately skim from my calf to the apex of my thighs while I try to maintain my balance. Once I’ve got my equilibrium, determined fingers part the lips of my pussy. I’m exposed to him. Completely. Like, he’s staring right at me.

  His inhale is sharp. “Motherfucker. Your cunt is fucking perfect. It’s pink, wet, so ready for me.” Another groan. Leaning forward, he licks from my entrance to my clit.

  A sound, guttural and needy, rips from my chest.

  Drake hums in response, the vibration sending tremors shooting from my core. “Spicy but sweet. I could feast on you for days and never be satisfied.”

  I’d let him.

  Drake’s tongue, lips, and mouth devour me. He adds pressure when I need it, slows down when I crave it, and speeds up when I can handle it. He plays my body like a prized instrument, one glorious note at a time.

  Time passes in a series of sighs and moans. Sensation builds, growing stronger, more intense with each lick, flick, and nip. Two fingers slide inside; they hook, then rub against my sweet spot.

  Stars.

  “Drake.”

  “Mmm?”

  I see stars.

  “Oh my God, Drake.”

  “You gonna come for me, princess?”

  The roof is no longer above me. In its place is heaven filled with glittering light. “I’m close.” I grip his hair, the strands twisting between my grasping fingers. He groans. “I’m so close.”

  “Come on my face. Want you to flood my mouth with your juices. Want to drink them all up; fucking thirsty.”

  “Jesus,” I moan. I can feel him smile against my soaked pussy. With renewed vigor, Drake doubles his efforts. His tongue circles, his fingers pump, his mouth sucks.

  “Yes,” I pant. “Like that. Just like that.” Acute pleasure builds, teeters, then erupts. It rips me apart. “Drake!” A scream is wrenched from my essence, from my very core. My body convulses as wave upon wave of sensation overpowers me.

  Drake’s mouth remains fixed on my clit as he follows me through the most intense orgasm of my life.

  When the tremors eventually subside, I slump forward. My shaking hands grasp his strong shoulders, and I inwardly beg them to keep me upright.

  With a mischievous grin, Drake glances up at me. “You’re a screamer. Knew my girl would be a screamer. It’s the fire in you.”

  I’d laugh if I had the energy.

  Standing, he towers over me. Long arms wrap around my waist, holding me firmly against him. He buries his nose in my hair and inhales. “Thank you.”

  Tipping my head back, I gaze at him. Blink. Then gaze some more. “For what?”

  But he doesn’t answer. Not with words, anyway. There’s a soft vulnerability skirting his otherwise composed features that makes it harder and harder to breathe. I blame the lump in my throat. It wasn’t there a second ago.

  I try to clear it. “You’re staring at me weird. What is it?”

  Drake watches me for a long moment, his jaw working. When he next speaks, his voice is gruff. “I like you, is all.”

  I don’t know what to say. Everything that filters through my orgasm-drenched mind is convoluted at best and downright ridiculous at worst. I want to tell him that I like him too, more than I’m willing to admit. That from the moment he first smiled at me, I knew my heart was in trouble. I want to tell him that it no longer belongs to me and despite being petrified, part of me is okay with it. I want to tell him that being in his arms feels a lot like coming home, which is weird since I’ve never had one before.

  However, when I try to form the words, they refuse to come. So, rather than say something stupid, I reconcile myself with drinking in his features and committing them to memory instead.

  Drake’s dimple deepens the longer I stare. “Dazed and sated is a good look on you.”

  My release still coats his lips. They glisten in the darkness. “Gonna spend my life keeping you this way.” Turning, he walks to the small couch and sits down.

  I rub my head. “Wait. What?”

  I’m fairly certain Drake admitted something really freaking important. If it weren’t for the fog clouding my brain and the phrases tangling on my tongue, I’d be all over it. Hell, I’d dissect every utterance, nuance, and what they could mean for hours. But for the life of me, I can’t. I’m still reeling from the orgasm to end all orgasms.

  Drake ignores my question and continues as though I haven’t spoken. “Come here.”

  Everything is happening so fast. “I’m so confused,” I mumble.

  “Nothing to be confused about, princess. You’re gonna come over here, and I’m gonna thrust my cock deep inside your pussy. That way, when you’re sore tomorrow, you’ll remember that I own you.”

  “Christ.” I laugh. My chuckle is rusty and awkward as I scrub one hand down the side of my face.

  Blue eyes narrow. “Come here.” Intense desire overtakes Drake’s expression as he leans back against my couch. A long arm drapes along the top of it while the other rests in his lap. His legs are spread, the worn denim of his jeans faded at the knees. If it weren’t for his thumb tapping a quick beat on the upholstery, I’d have thought him relaxed.

  But if I’ve learned anything about Drake Stone, it’s that he’s complex. Things are rarely as they seem on the surface. “Not gonna ask again.”

  I nibble my bottom lip.

  His rugged jawline clenches. Drake’s cheekbones sharpen, and his lips curve into a dangerous smile. “Princess,” he warns.

  With a steadying breath, I step forward.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “That’s my girl,” Drake rumbles.

  Tingles trickle beneath my skin. The thought of being his, of belonging to a man like him, causes desire to thrum through my body.

  When I insert myself between his
open legs, that devilish grin widens. “Lean forward.”

  “Um, why?”

  “I want your tits in my face.”

  Whoa. “Now?” My traitorous voice is breathless and, God help me, needy. So very needy.

  “Now.”

  I swallow. “I thought you were going to fuck me?”

  There’s a mischievous glint in his bright eyes. “I am, that’s a promise. But first, I want these gorgeous tits closer.” He skims his knuckles along the underside of my breasts. The touch is quick but powerful enough for goose bumps to form. I shiver.

  Drake’s teeth scrape across his full bottom lip. My gaze tracks the movement and I stare, enraptured, at the indents left behind.

  “Bend over for me, princess.”

  I do as he asks. If I thought about how easy it would be, how right it would feel, to slide warm, trembling hands along the curve of my waist until they rest on my thighs, I’d freak out. Heck, I’d run in the opposite direction and lock myself away for the rest of my life. Nothing but heavy music, sound equipment, and shame would surround me as I banished all contact with the outside world. I mean, I’m essentially offering up my breasts as a grand prize in a mammary contest. I didn’t even know I entered it.

  However, Drake’s possessive gaze simultaneously darkens and brightens at my acquiescence. Seeing desire reflected back at me proves he needs this as much as I do. It tugs a secret smile from the corner of my lips and causes me to arch my back. Thrust my breasts out. Live in the moment and make it my bitch. “Like this?”

  “Yeah.” He shifts in his seat, adjusting the hard length visible beneath his jeans. “Just like that. Jesus, they’re stunning tits, princess. Full, soft, and with the tastiest fucking nipples I’ve ever sucked.” He curses under his breath. Then, reaching out, slaps one of them.

  It ricochets into the other, causing both to swing left then right. I gasp, moan, throw my head back and bask in the depravity of it all. My taut peaks harden to the point of pain, and juices pour from my pussy, coating the inside of my thighs.

  “Fuck, yes.”

  I blink, my vision slowly clearing.

  After palming my still tender breasts, Drake notices the arousal seeping from my core. With a self-satisfied smile, he swirls his fingers through it and retrieves his hand. Slowly, deliberately, he brings it to his mouth and sucks. His eyes roll back on a guttural groan. “Love your taste. A man could get drunk on it.” Reaching out, he cradles my hips. “Come here.”

  Clutching his shoulders, I position my legs on either side of his narrow waist and lower myself.

  Once I’m settled, Drake delves his hand into my hair and cradles the back of my head. “Give me your mouth.” Only, his voice cracks on the final word. It’s the smallest alteration in pitch, a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it occurrence. If it weren’t for Drake pausing, my sharp intake of breath, and the heavy silence afterward, I would have overlooked it completely. However, there’s no escaping how the sound hangs in the loaded space between us—a fragile, brittle declaration.

  Ice-blue eyes turn from me to stare unseeing over my left shoulder. I don’t like it. I don’t like them anywhere but on me. So, cupping his jaw, I bring Drake back, lean forward, and press my lips to his.

  He groans.

  I sigh.

  We come undone.

  This time, when our mouths touch it’s as though I’m drowning, sinking, falling deeper and deeper for this man. God help me; despite my downward trajectory, despite knowing I’ll be lost in the abyss, there’s no chance of changing course or preventing my fall. There’s only irrevocability.

  Stars fall.

  Comets ignite.

  And the universe implodes.

  The cosmos as I knew it reforms into darker matter, faster atoms, and deeper space. It reinvents itself into something different yet uncannily familiar—an anticipated word before it’s spoken, an accustomed touch never before felt, a sense of belonging despite not knowing where it actually is.

  Crazy but true.

  Drake’s hold tightens. His tongue delves into my mouth and tangles with mine. His taste is a heady aphrodisiac.

  It causes heat to pulse in my center and sends bolts of pleasure coursing to my extremities. “More,” I breathe against his skin. “I need….” My greedy hands trace his shoulders. They skim his pecs, rub his nipples, and glory in his accompanying hiss. Then, smoothing along protuberant abs, they caress the downy hair leading to the top button of his jeans. There, I pause.

  Pop.

  He’s not the only one who’s well-practiced in removing clothing. Pulling back, Drake furrows his brows. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he’s unimpressed with my skills. The thought makes me smile.

  Quirking an eyebrow, I lower his zip, the noise a gunshot in the quiet. However, his expression softens and his lips part on a deep groan when I reach inside. I palm the hard length of him through his boxer shorts, wanting them gone, wanting everything that separates me from his bare skin eradicated.

  With every pump, his cock slides from beneath the elastic band. My eyes drop and I watch the tip of the crown as it peeks from behind the material. It’s beautiful. I’ve never thought of cocks as beautiful before. They’ve always been a means to an end, a necessary tool to bring me to orgasm. But Drake’s? His dick is perfection. It’s thick, and the bell-shaped end beads with droplets of precum. With a deliberate swipe, I circle my thumb on the tip, loving the smooth, wet feel of him. “Want you inside me.”

  “Already there, princess.” His lips find the hammering pulse at the base of my throat and his tongue darts out to lick it. “I’m already fucking there.”

  Hate to admit it, but Drake’s right. He is already inside me. He’s in every thought, every breath, every touch. I don’t know how it happened or when he became such an integral part of me. But he is. The scary part? I’m okay with it.

  With that bombshell in mind, I make quick work of his jeans and boxers. The remaining clothes are kicked somewhere in the direction of our shirts, and Drake settles back on the couch.

  Naked.

  Completely fucking naked.

  I’m lost for words.

  He’s all corded muscles, smooth skin, and long limbs. With his arm resting along the headrest, his legs spread, and an eyebrow quirked in amusement, he looks like an indolent king surveying a royal court.

  “Holy shit.” My murmur is reverent, a breathless prayer. “Look at you.”

  Drake’s earlier words being repeated back to him ignites a cocky grin. One corner of his mouth tips higher than the other, making it appear lopsided. The idiosyncrasy causes any defense I had against him to splinter, crumble, and fall. So, unguarded and exposed, I remain.

  As though noticing my bare emotional state, Drake holds out a hand for me. Relieved for something to hold on to, I take it. He settles me onto his lap again until we’re eye to eye, nose to nose, heart to heart.

  The world stills.

  Long fingers brush wayward hair from my shoulders. They trail the length of my spine and come to rest on my waist. Leaning in close, he kisses me, rocking my hips forward and back.

  My sigh is soft.

  Drake nips my chin as my soaked pussy lips part to glide along his erection. It coats the shaft with my juices. “Can you feel this?” He whispers against my swollen mouth. “How wet you are? How fucking hard I am?” Soft lips pepper my jawline, my throat. “It’s because I’m touching you. It’s because you’re touching me.” His hands drop to my ass, clenching tight. “It’s because we’re fucking inevitable.” In one quick move, he pivots my hips and thrusts inside.

  I moan.

  He groans.

  And Drake Stone is inside me.

  Caving to a desire so base, so elemental, it’s subconscious, I begin to ride him. Drake’s cock is thick; his shaft stretches my opening and fills me to capacity—a beautiful burn. “Drake,” I breathe, rolling my hips to the roaring rhythm in my head. “Fuck, Drake.”

  “I’m here. I’ve got you.”
Pressing his forehead against mine, he murmurs, “Trust me?”

  I still.

  “Not wearing a condom.”

  “I know. Don’t want to. Not with you.” He swallows. “I’ve never—”

  I cut him off with a kiss. “Shh. I haven’t either.”

  Strong hands cup my face. “Would never put you in danger. Want you to know that.”

  “I’d never put you in danger either.”

  “Never doubted it.” My heart threatens to implode. Levelling me with a heated, direct stare, his fingers dig into my skin. “So, we’re good?”

  Clutching his wrists, I nod.

  Full lips crash into mine. They take ownership of my mouth, and a desperate tongue pushes through the seam. Spurred on by his need, I increase my pace on his cock. Drake’s hands remain on me through the blinding pleasure. They become lost in my hair, grasp the column of my neck, cup heavy breasts, and pinch taut, sensitized nipples. His fingers ground me, keep me tethered. They remind me where I belong.

  Desire grows, becoming stronger, more acute the faster I rock. My short fingernails dig into his shoulders, probably leaving half-moon imprints on his skin. “I’m going to come,” I moan. “Drake, I’m going to—”

  With pupils so dilated his eyes are a searing black, Drake reaches between us. He rubs my clit in slow, tantalizing circles, a direct contrast to my hasty movements. Pleasure so powerful it’s borderline painful sears through me as an orgasm takes over. My body is torn apart, and, throwing my head back, I cry to the roof above.

  “Fucking beautiful,” his deep voice rumbles. Then, with a harsh groan, Drake impales himself deeper and deeper in my pussy. His hands are bruising, his muscles tense. I open my eyes in time to see his jaw clench, nostrils flare, and a scorching gaze pin me with such burning intensity, I lose my breath. With a final thrust, he comes.

  Hot cum spurts inside me. I imagine the white ropes of liquid release bursting from the head of his swollen cock. Through it all, Drake grinds me against the base of his thick shaft, pushing himself deeper and deeper. His ownership primal.