A drawer slid open, and she moved onto her hands and knees, crawling further along the bed. She could sense his body heat and see the faint outline of his frame against the glow of the clock. Straightening, she reached out, brushing his skin, running her fingertips along the bone of his hip toward his groin. As the sound of a crinkling condom wrapper filled the air, she learned his body, promising she would stop exploring as soon as she reached the patch of hair surrounding his cock. Further and further she slid across smooth skin, until her fingers collided with something hard and mouth-wateringly large.
“You shave?” Dayum. She was going to go insane with the mental image of his manscaped package, especially when it felt far larger than anything she’d ever enjoyed before.
“I wax…sometimes.” His hand collided with hers, and then jerked in rough movements as he sheathed his length.
“The pain doesn’t turn you off getting it done?” Brazilians had previously been scheduled into her diary since her teenage years. When your work uniform consisted of skimpy costumes, and you were constantly spreading your legs in one move or another, there was no way a professional dancer could go without. And each and every time had stung like a bitch.
“No, Red.” He grabbed her wrist, tight, a faint warning in his hold. “The pain turns me on.”
Must…stop…hyperventilating. “Good to know.” Her voice wavered. He was beyond enticing. This man was one hundred percent built for her pleasure.
Another chuckle. She didn’t know how or why, but that deep, rich sound entered her chest, scorching her veins every damn time.
“You worried yet?” he taunted.
Christ, no. Well, maybe a little. The old Melody was in her element. The new one was hunched in the corner, crawled into the fetal position. “Why would I be worried?” Her voice betrayed her confidence.
Yet another chuckle.
She slammed the heel of her hand into his chest, hitting hard muscle. “Stop that.”
His humor fled, and she couldn’t tell if he was holding it in, or finally taking her seriously. He grabbed her other wrist, yanking her forward. The silence filled with their labored breathing. There were no words, only sensations.
“Please,” she whimpered, dying under the need to be touched. “Stop teasing me. It’s been too long.”
“I don’t want to tease you.” His lips brushed her mouth, and then trailed a path from her cheek to her ear and all the way down her neck. “I want to savor you.”
She closed her eyes, sinking into the fantasy that this was another time, another place. Ignoring the dull twitch in her leg that told her otherwise. She was with the man of her dreams, a guy who knew how to make her burn and thrive. A man who cherished her perfect body. This was her break from reality. There were no scars, no nightmares. Only Sean. Only pleasure.
“Can I touch you here?” His palm pressed low on her abdomen, temptingly close to her pussy, yet so damn far away.
“Yes.” She placed a hand on his shoulder for stability and nodded into the darkness.
“How about here?” His touch traveled lower, gliding through the tiny trimmed patch of curls at her mound.
“Sean.” He was tormenting her, making her pussy clench with the need to be filled.
“And here?” Two fingers parted her folds, gentle, slow, gliding through the slickness of her arousal.
“Let me make this clear,” she growled. “If you don’t—”
He thrust his fingers deep inside her, cutting off her words, severing her ability to think.
“You were saying?” he murmured.
She whimpered, bereft of thought. Her focus was entirely on the bliss he was giving her. After more than eleven months without a non-masturbatory orgasm, his touch was heaven. Divine. Too much for her body to take. His digits pulsed, swirled, while his thumb flicked her clit. Every movement made her core spasm. She was going to make a fool of herself and come before he even climbed onto the bed.
“Stop,” she gasped.
He complied without hesitation, and she kind of loved and hated him all at once for doing so.
“Am I doing something wrong, sugar?”
Sugar. Red. Pixie. Christ, she’d kill to hear her name on his lips. She shook her head, probably lashing his face with her hair in the process. “I’m too close. Just give me a minute to breathe.”
He growled, the vibration sending a fresh wave of goose bumps down her neck. “Let me get one thing clear. You don’t tell me to stop because it feels good. OK? Ever. I only stop if I’m hurtin’ you, or you’re not enjoying it. You feel me?”
Oh, she felt him all right. He continued working his fingers inside her, one hand pulsing rhythmically into her pussy, his thumb rowing her clit, while his other palm slid over her waist, cupping her breast.
“Sean…” She couldn’t breathe. “Just…give me a…minute.”
This time he didn’t listen. He continued stroking her pleasure higher, sending her spiraling out of control. She could sense her climax within reach, too close, too fast.
“You’re so soft.”
She whimpered, not really hearing, only feeling. He was killing her. Surely she would die from the frantic way her heart pounded against her ribs. She wove her hands around his neck, leaning into him. Mindlessly, she ran her fingers through his hair, scratching, pulling, making him growl.
“I’m…” She didn’t know what—helpless? Useless? Weak?
“Beautiful.”
She almost doubled over at his sincerity. Even though he had no basis to judge, she needed to believe him. All those who knew the truth—the doctors, the strangers who witnessed her leaving the hospital, her ex—they all balked at her scars. They knew she wasn’t beautiful. Sean didn’t. Not yet, and she would cherish his adoration until he learned otherwise.
“I can’t wait to be inside you.” He pressed hard on her clit, taking her thoughts away from the darkness.
“Then do it.” Do it now. Take me hard. Take me fast. Send me over.
“No.” He lowered, brushing his hair over her collarbone and then lower still. “Not yet.” The wet suction of his mouth latched onto her breast. He licked, nipped, and grazed his teeth before releasing her nipple with a pop. “I want to lull you into a false sense of security first. Make you believe I’m sweet and gentle.”
This was sweet and gentle? Holy shit. “I’m starting to think you’re all talk.”
“Really?” he drawled. He moved to her other breast and latched on with deliciously painful suction. Her nipples throbbed, pulsing in the same rhythm he worked her pussy. The intensity grew, his movements becoming faster, the pressure harder, while he scraped his teeth over her nipple.
“I don’t want you to stop.” She’d beg him to continue if she had to.
“Good, ‘cause it’s not gonna happen.”
She arched her back, clinging tighter to his support. His strong hand grabbed her ponytail and tilted her head. She had a brief second to catch her breath before his mouth took hers in a feral kiss. His tongue devoured her, the strokes matching the hard thrust of his fingers inside her.
“Sean.” She spoke against his lips.
He didn’t retreat, didn’t stop kissing her or pleasuring her. He stoked her need higher, her fingertips digging into his scalp, her pelvis now thrusting in rhythm. She didn’t have time to warn him. She didn’t have time to suck in a breath. All the months of built-up frustration rushed to the forefront and made her knees weak. Her orgasm hit with unforgiving force.
He held onto her, being her strength as he continued to kiss her to heaven and back. Consciousness started to fade, the pleasure becoming too much, too intense. She started to drift backward, her pussy still convulsing around his fingers.
“Whoa, there, little pixie.”
She blinked the daze from her mind, and sucked in breath after breath, as her orgasm faded.
“You OK?” he murmured into her neck. “I thought I lost you there for a moment.”
She nodded, speechless.
“Come here.” He withdrew his touch and guided her to lie on the mattress.
As consciousness regained its hold, she smiled into the darkness, enjoying the relief washing over her. If someone would’ve told her eleven months ago that her new, scarred body would be having sex with a flawless rock star, she would’ve laughed…then cried at the improbability. But evidently, it was possible, and it felt like heaven was coursing through her veins. The relief made her eyes burn, and a smile brighten her face.
Between her legs, the bed dipped with Sean’s weight. She tensed, praying he didn’t brush her skin, or touch somewhere he shouldn’t as he rested on top of her, his heavy weight stirring her already sated body back to life again.
“You know, you make the cutest sounds when you come.”
Her cheeks heated. “No, I don’t.”
“Red…” he nudged his pelvis into her, the head of his shaft parting her pussy folds. “You make the sweetest whimpering noise.”
“I do not.” At least, she hoped she wasn’t capable of making sound without being aware of it.
“Want me to prove it?” He spoke against her mouth, and then pressed his teeth into her lower lip. “I’m pretty sure I can get you to that place again.”
She sure hoped so. She wasn’t ready to return to her real life yet. The old Melody was much more fun. She smiled, tilting her chin to brush their noses together. “Well, quit yabberin’ about it, and get to work.”
Chapter Eleven
Sean’s chest echoed with a growl he couldn’t control. His palms were sweating, his jaw tense. Every ounce of his strength was holding his body back from rutting on her like a dog in heat, when his mind knew he needed to take it slow.
She was fractured. He didn’t know how or why, but somewhere in that beautiful body of hers was a pain she didn’t want to share.
“You scared, sticks?”
“Scared?” His voice was thick. Barely controlled.
“Or maybe you forgot what you’re doing.”
Wench. He already adored her. She was a contradiction on too many levels to name. “I thought it was like riding a bike?” He gave her a warning, the slightest nudge of his shaft against her entrance before he sank home, hard and so deliciously fast that she squealed.
“Fuck.”
He hadn’t heard her swear before. It was like a gift to his ego. “I think I like you cursing more than the way you whimper.” He continued to thrust, slamming his pelvis against hers again and again, making the barely visible glow of her breasts bounce with his momentum.
“Let me hear another one, Red.” He grabbed her wrists, pinning them on either side of her head. She retaliated by weaving her thighs around his waist, eliciting a groan from low in his chest as he sank deeper.
“Who’s the vocal one now?” she taunted.
He would’ve chuckled if concentration wasn’t key. She was so small beneath him—slim, delicate, breakable. She made him feel like an ogre seducing a princess, and maybe he was. She was a talented dancer, after all. He was only a musician. Not even a memorable one.
“I still think I can make you curse at least one more time before I make you come.” He wished he could see her face, to witness the emotions he invoked, not only the sounds.
“So arrogant,” she drawled and loosened one leg around his waist. She bent her knee, nudging it between them and lifting higher to hook her calf over his shoulder.
“Holy fuck.” Her new position allowed him to sink to the hilt. So damn deep. “I knew you’d be crazy flexible. Your body’s going to haunt me for the rest of my days.”
“I sure hope so.”
She pushed up with her thigh, shoving him backward. He followed her lead, rolling onto the mattress and gripping her around the waist to switch their positions. She ended up on top, straddling him, his length still punishingly deep inside her.
Normally, he didn’t enjoy women taking control. This was different. He couldn’t pinpoint how, or why. Maybe it was the overwhelming urge to please her, or the way she made him forget everything. Either way, he was happy to take a back seat. For now.
“Enjoy the ride, pixie, because you won’t last long on top.”
“Hmm.” She chuckled. “Are you that much of a control freak?”
“In bed? Without doubt or remorse,” he drawled, bucking his hips and sending her forward onto her hands and knees. “But I’m happy to pretend you’re in charge for a little while.”
She startled as his lips smacked against hers for the briefest kiss. She tasted sweet, just like her perfume. Delectable.
“Well, if I’m on a short timeline, I better get my fill.”
She straightened, grinding over him, back and forth, building the friction until he was groaning with each movement. He could see her. Almost. The faintest outline of her figure glowed in the red light of the alarm clock.
So beautiful. So fragile.
Her shoulders tilted, her focus drifting behind her. He wondered what the hell she was doing until the brush of her fingertips ran along his balls. He tensed, gritted his teeth, and realized he’d misunderstood her. Fragile, my ass. She cupped his sac, and the pleasure made pre-come seep from his dick.
“You play dirty.” His tone was far from bitter.
“Just making the best of the fleeting moments you’re allowing me to be on top.”
“Oh, you can stay up there, Red. All I said was that you wouldn’t be the one in control.”
Sean bucked again, reiterating who was in command. Red may be on top, but he was running the show. He always would. She toppled sideways with his thrust, moaned, and dug her greedy little fingers deeper into his sac. Fuck, yeah. That’s what he was after. The mingled bite of pleasure and pain sent him skyrocketing.
“Christ,” he bit out. “You found my weakness.” He spread his thighs, giving her better access.
“I’m yet to find a man who doesn’t like being touched there.”
Her grip tightened, pulling a satisfied hiss from his lips. “There’s a difference between liking the touch,” he grated between clenched teeth, “and enjoying the pain of your fingers digging into me.”
He bucked again, needing more, just a little tighter. She complied, her grip filling his body with adrenaline, pushing him to the limit. “Hold up a minute.”
He froze, tensing his thighs to stave the impending climax. He wasn’t ready to blow. Not yet. He clung to her waist, keeping her in place, ensuring her body didn’t move an inch even though he was sure she was deliberately clamping her pussy on his dick.
“While you’re lying there doing nothing,” she cooed, grabbing his hands from her waist, “why don’t you play with these.” She settled his palms atop her breasts and squeezed.
The growl emanating from his throat wasn’t entirely made up of bliss, it contained frustration, too. The little pixie minx knew exactly what she was doing. Taunting. Teasing. Gaining the upper hand. Instinct demanded he play, so he flicked her nipples as she released her hold and tilted back to run a gentle hand over his sac.
“Trying to gain control, Red?” He thrust hard into her tight heat, his entire body taut as he pretended he had a semblance of restraint on the orgasm building in his balls.
“Oh, no,” she drawled with sarcasm, grinding down after each of his thrusts. “You’re far too much of a man to let a little ol’ pixie push your limits.”
Damn, she was good. He was almost willing to let her call the shots, to take the reins and lead the way. Almost. Her short nails stroked the slickness of where they joined, while her other hand gripped his wrist at her breast to stabilize herself. She continued to torture the most sensitive part of his body, lightly scraping, then cupping, or squeezing.
“You like pain,” she asked between breathy exhalations.
It wasn’t really a question. It was more of a strategic taunt as her short nails dug into the skin of his sac.
“Red.” He didn’t have the ability to warn her with anything other than her name. He’d snap
soon. He would’ve done so sooner, but he’d proceeded with caution, not wanting to push her.
“Yeah, sticks?”
He chuckled, and the overbearing need for release faded a little with his humor. “Careful.”
“Hmm?”
He wished he could see her face, the stray strands of strawberry-blonde hair framing her cheeks, the soft breasts in his palm. She’d be a sight, a flawless beauty of a woman capable of washing every thought from his mind—past, present, and future.
“You keep provoking me. Sometime soon I’m going to bite back.”
Her soft, breathy laughter made him burn, from his toes to his balls before ricocheting to every inch of his body.
“Then bite.”
Done.
He dropped his hands to his side and flung her sideways with a hard buck of his hips. She screamed as she fell to the mattress.
“My turn.” He slid on top of her, between her legs, over her belly. His cock nestled between the apex of her thighs, right to the slick opening of her pussy. He wrenched her arms above her head, pinning them to the mattress in one fist as he rested on his elbow. He ignored the needy pulses of her hips, a blatant plea for him to fill her, and slowly ran his free hand over her waist, brushing past her breast to cup her neck.
He slid his grip higher, grabbing her jaw, tilting her head back slightly. A shuddered breath left her lungs, and it was right then that he knew she had the same mind for dominant play as he did. The realization was like a jab to the gut and a blow on his dick all at the same time. This woman not only had the ability to distract him from his thoughts, but also the qualities to bring him to his knees.
“This is my playground.” He leaned in to scrape his teeth along the skin at her chin. “So you play by my rules—I’m always in charge.” He kissed a path to the side of her lips, keeping her head in place with his grip at her neck.
“Well, then, fuck me,” she demanded.
He smiled at her curse, empowered by her slight show of apprehension and the lilt of delirious lust. He nudged his hips forward, the head of his cock breaching her entrance. She gasped, and her hands fought his hold.
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