He snatched the condom from her with one hand, pulled her against him with the other and kissed her deeply. She wrapped her arms around his neck and moved against him so her belly stroked the hot, smooth skin of his erection.
He walked her backward toward the bed, his leg sliding between hers, his thigh rubbing the swollen flesh over her sensitized clit. When she felt the low edge of the bed against her calves she wrenched her mouth free with a gasp.
“I want you to fuck me hard,” she told him, lightly raking her nails down his chest. “And I want you to fuck me fast.”
His nostrils flared and his lips twitched as if he were holding back a smile. “No.”
She blinked at him, not sure she’d heard right. “No?”
He picked her up as if she weighed nothing. His hands slid over her back, cradled and cupped and kneaded her ass while she clung to him. “No,” he repeated.
She felt light as air as he climbed onto the bed and stretched his body over hers.
She sighed and turned her head when he buried his face in her neck. “Why not?”
“You are not a quick fuck, Joy,” he told her, kissing a line down her neck.
Her entire body tensed as pleasure rolled through her. “How do you know?”
“Call it instinct.” He dipped his tongue into the hollow at the base of her throat. “You are candlelit dinners.” Each word was punctuated with a kiss down the center of her chest. “You are long tropical vacations for no other reason than you should see as much beauty as possible.”
A prickle of emotion made her nose sting and her eyes water.
He went up on his knees and rolled the condom over himself with his gaze on hers.
“You are rare and fine,” he continued, and she had to close her eyes.
His absolute beauty combined with the intoxicating things he was saying was too much. She wasn’t as naïve and impulsive as she used to be, but she wasn’t immune to falling in love, and damn if she wasn’t going to dive into it head first if he didn’t stop.
Leonardo laced his fingers with hers and pinned her hands to the mattress over her head, lowering his body over hers as he did. He held himself there, his body touching hers from chest to where his lower belly was putting the most delicious pressure against her clit, without resting hardly any of his weight on her.
God, she was already drowning in the deep undertow of his kiss.
“You are a woman meant to be savored.” He spoke against her lips, raising his hips just enough to align the thick, swollen head of his cock with her cunt. “Slowly.”
His breath hitched. Their groans mingled as he pushed inside her in one steady thrust. Her back arched, pressing her breasts against those maddening piercings as he filled her to shockingly full. The rush burst through her from her clit and shot out to her fingers and toes as though he’d unleashed a bolt of lightning within her body.
“You are exquisite,” he whispered close to her ear.
He took possession of her mouth again, fucking her now in long, slow movements. Her body moved with him, her hips tilting up to take as much of him in as possible, then angled back so he rubbed in exactly the right spot as he withdrew.
He might have wanted to savor the moment, but a glorious, indescribable pressure was quickly building inside her with each skilled thrust of his cock.
He shifted himself higher up her body and she had to break the kiss, needing air. Joy whimpered and whispered his name as each hard stroke bumped her clit exactly the way she needed it to. Her orgasm was coming, and it was coming fast.
“Go, go, go…” he chanted softly, breath ragged and hips pumping fast. “Let me feel you.”
She planted her heels into the mattress as the pressure burst and started to release. Leonardo seated himself deep and her ass came off the bed. Her hips rolled out of control beneath him as wave after bright, incandescent wave of pure pleasure washed through her for so long she thought it might never stop.
When her body finally began to relax, he kissed her neck, and whispered, “Magnificent,” against her skin.
Joy licked her dry lips. “So much for savoring the moment,” she said with a breathy laugh. “I don’t think I’ve ever come that fast in my life.”
Leonardo lifted his head and smiled and she realized he was still hard as rock.
Bless his heart, he wasn’t finished with her yet.
Chapter Six
Joy tugged and Leo loosened the death grip he had on her fingers.
“I think it’s safe to say you didn’t forget how to do that,” she said.
Her riveting eyes had gone almost completely black.
“It came back to me pretty quickly.”
“I’d say.” She smiled in that dreamy way a guy wanted a woman to smile after he’d just made her come. She smoothed his hair back from his heated face. “It seems we still have some unfinished business to take care of.”
Leo lost his breath as she tightened the muscles of her pussy around his cock. A shudder rippled over his spine and his balls pulled up tight, primed to go off.
He kissed her sweat-damp shoulder. “You feel so good I never want to leave.”
She lifted his hair off his neck, blew gently and his skin rippled with goose bumps.
“You say the craziest things, Leonardo.”
Jesus, he loved the way she said his name.
“Let me have a turn,” she said, moving as if she meant to turn both of them over.
He slipped out of her as they attempted to roll over together, kissing and quietly laughing at the awkwardness of it. And then she rose above him—a goddess of a woman with full, firm breasts and a narrow waist, her belly soft and round, hips lusciously full. She took his cock in hand and guided him back inside her. Her eyes closed and her mouth fell open and he nearly lost it then.
“Come here.” Leo propped himself up on his elbows and used his legs to tip her forward. She caught herself on his shoulders and indulged him in a long kiss as her hips started to undulate in very small circles, making her cunt stroke his entire cock everywhere at once. His head fell back and he groaned.
“My God you feel so fucking good,” he told her, his voice choked.
Fuck, she was so hot and wet and incredibly tight. She was kissing and biting his neck, and when she tugged on one of his nipple piercings his hips bucked, pushing him even deeper inside her, making them both gasp.
With one hand still braced on his shoulder for balance, Joy raised up until just the head of his cock was inside her, then sat down fast, seating herself all the way onto him. The rush of it burned through him, stole the breath out of his lungs. She did it again, and again, and again, coming down harder and faster each time, her breath growing as ragged as his, her moans mingling with the grunts coming from deep within his chest.
“God, Leonardo, what are you doing to me?” she asked, nearly pulling his ears off as she brought his head up and kissed him hard, her hips rolling that maddening belly dance, pushing him at full speed toward the edge of control.
He couldn’t answer. His entire focus had gone inward. She was fucking him again, riding him hard. Sweat beaded on his forehead and he had to clutch the comforter to anchor himself to something because he felt as if he was going to come out of his skin.
“I’m going to come again,” she warned, panting heavily. She leaned in for another kiss and bit down on his lip, her movements erratic and wild now. “I’m going to come again. Fuck.”
She pushed off his shoulders, head thrown back and back arched, her incredible tits jiggling and wrecked ponytail swinging as she rode him hard. He was vaguely aware of her high-pitched cries as his balls let loose, his hips pumped out of control and he roared through an orgasm so strong his fucking toes went numb.
When his body stopped shuddering he collapsed and she collapsed on top of him.
“What kind of magic do you have over me, Leonardo?” she whispered after they’d been quiet a while. She was still lying on top of him with her head on his shoulder. H
er breath was warm on his chest and the smell of her hair was filling his senses.
“I think you’re confusing magic with chemistry,” he murmured, his face turned so his lips and nose were touching her hair. “They’re two completely different things.”
She lifted her head and pressed her lips to his chest, one hand covering his nipple, fingers toying with the piercing she couldn’t seem to stop touching.
Not that he was complaining. They were there for a reason.
“Where I come from they are the exact same thing,” she said, raising her head to look at him. Once again, he was caught off guard by her eyes.
“You are an incredibly beautiful woman, Joy Pope.”
She gave him a half-smile and propped her elbows by his shoulders.
“Flattery will get you everywhere, you know.” She smoothed her hands over his face, loosening the hair stuck to his skin by dried sweat. “Leonardo Jones.”
And then she started to giggle.
“Something funny about my name?” he asked, taking his turn tucking the hair that had come loose from her ponytail behind her ears. Little ringlet curls had appeared at her hairline.
“It’s just…” She stopped and kissed him, then shifted so his dick slipped out of her.
“Yes, I know. It makes me sound like I’m a pimp in a bad movie.” He missed her the moment she rolled onto her back, but he was getting a kick out of the way she was laughing. “I’m not sure my mothers completely thought it through before they gave it to me,” he said, rolling onto his side, propping his head on his hand. “But I like it.”
Her laugh subsided and she gave him a smile that caused something deep, something that had long been asleep within him, to stir.
“I like it too,” she told him and brushed the backs of her fingers over his mouth.
He instantly wanted more of her.
“What a crazy day it’s been,” she said quietly.
“It definitely started out strange,” he agreed.
“It ended well though.” Her fingers were travelling over his jaw.
He raised his eyebrows. “Is it over already?”
Between her touch, the freshly fucked look of her and miles of golden-brown skin and heart-stopping curves, he was already priming for round two.
“Oh I really hope not.” She brushed her knuckles over his chest. “I know I’m not finished yet. Although I could use a glass of water.”
“Water,” he repeated, and rolled toward the side of the bed. “I’ll get it.”
“There’s a filtered pitcher in the fridge,” she told him as he walked out of the room.
He stopped in the bathroom to dispose of the condom without turning on the lights, but the room lit up a moment later. He spun, not sure who he’d been expecting, but surprised to see Joy standing in the doorway.
“Let me see,” she said, turning him by the shoulders so his back was to her.
His tattoo. He’d had it so long he hardly thought about it anymore.
“The Vitruvian Man,” she said, sounding both impressed and amused. Her fingertips brushed lightly over his skin. “You were named after Da Vinci?”
He could feel her tracing the circle of the famous sketch, permanently inked across the expanse of his back by Jamie more than ten years ago. He’d just had it touched up maybe six months earlier—ten years of shirtless summers and sunshine having taken their toll on the sepia-colored ink—so it was in prime condition.
“My mom Andi has framed copies of his sketches in her art studio. Some of my earliest memories are of her taking them down so I could look at them while she worked.” He liked the way she was touching him, her fingers still following the lines of the drawing. “When I got older I would sit for hours trying to recreate them, but I wasn’t very good. My mother is a brilliant painter, but I can’t hold a brush straight.”
“You got a singing voice instead. My mother is a singer, but I see the world through a camera lens.” She slid her arms around his waist, bringing her body against his, and touched her soft lips to the center of his back. “They pass their creativity on to us but it doesn’t always show itself in the same way.”
And just like that he was hard for her again.
He turned in her arms. “Take your hair down for me please.”
She reached into the base of her ponytail and pulled out two bobby pins, then an elastic. He ran his fingers through it at the scalp, helping her shake the one long spiral into a mass of gorgeously messy waves.
“What about the water?” she asked, her voice a harsh whisper as he skimmed his hands over the silky skin of her back, her narrow waist, the erotic curve of her hips.
“It can wait. I want you more.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and dropped her eyelids to half-mast.
“Well, you should take me back to bed then, shouldn’t you?”
* * * * *
He found her at her kitchen table, her laptop open in front of her, after he dragged himself out of bed the next morning. She was dressed in snug-fitting sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt that fell off to one side, showing the Brownie camera tattooed on her gorgeous shoulder, but no bra strap in sight. Her damp hair fell in loose waves to her shoulders, then coiled into ringlets the rest of the way down her back, and her face was scrubbed clean of makeup.
“Stunning,” he said out loud, getting her attention.
She closed her laptop, unfolded her legs and came to him.
“Good morning.” She leaned into him and ran her fingers through his freshly washed hair. “I see you found the towel I laid out for you.”
He’d woken up that morning to find she’d moved his duffel bag with his clean clothes into her bedroom and put a clean towel on top where he wouldn’t miss it.
“Thank you for that.” He pressed his lips to hers, let them linger a long moment, relishing in the feel of her kiss, her unrestrained breasts against his chest, her belly touching his. “Have any more of that coffee I taste?” he asked without letting go.
She smiled against his lips. “Almost a whole pot. Hungry?”
He released her with no small amount of reluctance.
“I’m not much of a breakfast person.”
“Yeah, neither am I.” She got a mug from a cupboard and poured him a steaming cup from the pot on the counter. “Black, right?”
“Right.” He took it and gave her a quick, light kiss in thanks.
She blinked up at him, the same surprise he was feeling reflected in her eyes as they both seemed to realize how oddly familiar the gesture was.
He took a seat opposite hers at the table. “Did I interrupt you working?”
“Not at all.” She picked up her empty mug and went to refill it. “I was just going through some of the shots the photographer sent me from last night. They’re gorgeous.” She gave him a big smile. “She got an amazing candid shot of you talking to my dad.”
Leo sipped and sighed. She made her coffee really strong, just the way he liked it.
“I don’t remember having my picture taken, aside from the time she asked you and me to pose together.”
“That one is good too.” She pulled a chair around to his side of the table and opened her laptop.
The picture of him talking to her father was definitely a candid one. John was talking, his hands caught mid-gesture, Leo laughing at what he was saying.
“He was telling me about the time your mother kicked Lou Shepherd in the shin for showing up to a recording session drunk.” He smiled, remembering. “He said she was wearing heels with a really pointed toe. Lou had a bruise that didn’t heal for weeks.”
Lou Shepherd was a god among blues guitarists. Everything Leo had ever read about him portrayed him as a highly arrogant man who got away with pretty much anything because he was so incredibly talented. Apparently Angelina Pope hadn’t been impressed. And the kick had worked, according to Joy’s father. Shepherd had shown up sober and on time for the rest of their recording sessions.
“My m
other is a feisty one.” She clicked on a different thumbnail and the picture they’d posed for came on the screen. “Look where your hand was, dirty boy.”
His hand had definitely been riding rather low on her hip. Leo just barely stopped himself from pointing out how they looked pretty right together—the contrast of her dark to his fair and the way she fit perfectly against his side.
“And look where yours was,” he countered, pointing to the hand she’d tucked inside the lapel of his jacket, resting fairly low on his abdomen.
She gave him a mischievous smile. “So maybe we were both copping a little feel.”
“And now that I’ve had my hands on you I can’t seem to stop touching you.” He kissed her shoulder and then her mouth when she turned to him.
“I have to ask you something,” he said, sitting back as something that had been bothering him came to mind again.
She closed her computer and shifted in her seat.
“When we met before,” he started, then stopped when she sighed and closed her eyes. “Was it that bad?”
She crossed her legs on the wide cushioned seat. “I don’t know if it was that bad as much as I don’t know if it’s important for you to know the details.”
“You said your assistant hasn’t been the same,” he reminded her.
She tapped her nails against the side of her mug, making little pinging noises.
She raised her eyes to his. “Are you sure you want to know?”
“I’ve had to atone for a lot of stupid shit since I got sober. I’d like to know.”
She drew in a deep breath, then let it out slowly before she started.
“I don’t know how, but Kelly found out where your band was going to be hanging out after the show. Not only that, but she managed got our names on the guest list as well. She was a huge fan of Grind and of you especially.”
He wasn’t sure he liked the way she used the word was.
“I’m a big fan too, so of course I said yes when she invited me. We got into the club. We got near you. She flirted. You weren’t interested.”
Steel Lust Page 5