Zero: That’s fucked up but it’s all right. I can host one at mine. You with Sierra? Liz and Angelina are askin’.
Me: What do you think?
Tricky: Do your thing, man. I found one for the night.
Me: Wear a condom and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!
Tricky: I’m not stupid. Got my eye on a prize so I will be careful.
Ziggy: STFU! No one wants to hear about your sex life, Trix.
Damien: Be VERY careful, Adrien.
My brother could blow me. I had no idea why he thought anything he said had sway over me. For all I knew, he hated Sierra yet he’d failed to provide any proof she had done anything to him what so ever.
I wasn’t particularly interested in what was going on in his fucked up brain, and why he hated this one woman so much—a person he’d never set eyes on until she’d decided to take a trip with her friends to France. Had she threatened him with blackmail based upon some secret from his past? Was she secretly the anti-Christ?
It didn’t really matter since we weren’t the type of siblings to share everything, and neither of us believed in God so how could we possibly believe in a made-up son of Satan? I hoped he would back the fuck off and leave her alone. I didn’t know how I was going to do it yet but she would be mine. Life was too short and I needed someone like her in my life.
Whatever stick Damien had rammed up his tight ass, he could pull it out and should have been more than satisfied with fucking Angelina, and staying out of my business. I had no motive or thoughts about why he acted like such a little bitch sometimes but all I could do was pray was that shit wasn’t contagious. I enjoyed my sex life, and I didn’t need his multiple hang-ups to complicate my present situation.
As we arrived to my apartment building, I gently awoke Sierra though I loved watching her sleep so peacefully. She was like my own little taste of heaven I was utterly reluctant to let go.
“We’re here, Sleeping Beauty,” I whispered into her ear.
She awoke though her eyes remained closed but the dazzling smile on her lips had me thinking very naughty thoughts.
“Mmm, that sounds nice leaving your gorgeous mouth.” Sierra opened her eyes and looked at me. “Although I highly doubt you could possibly feel anything other than lust for me after knowing me—what?—a day?”
“Two days,” I said before I kissed her delectable lips. “It’s after midnight, chérie.”
She laughed out loud with the heartiest laugh I’d ever known to come from such a tiny woman. “Cheater! It’s probably only one in the morning! That most certainly doesn’t count as two days.”
I smirked. “Can you walk or should I carry you inside?”
Her gorgeous hazel-green eyes studied me. “You can’t carry me inside. Not after the booze and your killer tongue doing things to me I’ve never ever experienced in my life. I can walk . . . I think.”
“How much do you weigh? Fifty kilos or so?”
“Closer to fifty-nine kilos. I might not look it but at five four, it’s a perfectly healthy weight. I’m so not a stick figure, thank God.”
“I weight train, so that’s nothing. I can still carry you without becoming winded.”
Sierra studied me through bedroom eyes before she followed me out on my side of the limousine. It was summer but tell that to the weather. The wind had picked up a bit, and it was less than seventeen degrees Celsius. To me, the weather was fine but to my new American friend, I wasn’t so sure.
She stood there for a moment, her arms outstretched like Christ as she absorbed the wind around her. “This is such completely perfect weather, don’t you think, Diablo? It reminds me of Boston in the early fall. Plus I am drunk so it feels so good to have that bit of bite in the air.”
“Come on, coucou. I will carry you because I didn’t realize a few glasses of champagne would have you buzzed.”
I walked up to her and lifted her into my arms. Fifty-nine kilos or not, she was a complete lightweight to have in my arms. Her body was warm but mine was a raging inferno. I ran hot anyway but to have her in my arms, all I could think about was getting her to my apartment and having my way with her.
I had maid service and they changed the sheets off my bed once I kissed Sorsha goodbye out of my life. No way would I want to roll around in the same sheets I’d shared with her.
Sorsha wasn’t necessarily easy but she wasn’t exactly the monogamous type if she would allow me to share her with Damien. I still didn’t know whether I should use condoms with this one. I had all the great types—as close to sex as it was supposed to be had but nothing could take the place of fucking in the raw. They were great but it wasn’t even close to the real thing—my unsheathed cock ramming into her pussy without anything separating us. Nothing less would do.
We took the elevator up to my apartment and I set her down gently to unlock my door with a card key. The great part about owning a state of the art, luxury apartment in Paris was the door combination changed monthly and our key cards to our apartments were changed every three months. I had mine changed immediately after Sorsha’s departure. I didn’t want her to have a way to invade my space in any kind of situation.
Before I could enfold Sierra back into the warmth of my arms, she entered and quickly made herself at home. My God, she was a fucking vision in that short dress and those sexy heals that emphasized her tan and legs that seemed to go on for days despite her short stature. She didn’t have much of a torso but her breasts were perky and her stomach was flat as a pancake. There were subtle muscles along the area, meaning she had played sports, as least at one time.
I watched as she walked with such lithe grace in her high heels. She observed the open areas but places where the doors were closed, she avoided. I wonder if she remembered she didn’t have her panties on and whether the rather cool apartment was playing havoc with her pussy.
“I could build a fire for you if you wanted,” I offered as I poured myself a healthy swig of Hennessy and drank from it heartily. No matter how loaded I tried to get, this chick already had me heady and waiting to strip those clothes off her body so I could finally unleash the beast.
She turned to stare at me with seductive eyes that seemed more green than hazel at the moment. “No, that won’t be necessary. I think we’ll strike up our own heat tonight.”
Ah, she was presumptuous and not the least bit shy about sex talk. Her cheeks had a slight rosy hue beneath her olive complexion but it wasn’t from embarrassment, it was from her highly in tuned body being synced up with mine. I would have to find a way to punish my little spitfire who was no angel at all.
“Come here,” I commanded before I beckoned her over with my left index finger.
Sierra stared at me like a deer in headlights. There was a tense silence that filled the room and my cock throbbed with the feeling that maybe she’d changed her mind and wanted nothing to do with me. Maybe she was a little tease after all and wanted to go back to her hotel.
Instead, she walked closer to me without fear and stopped near me enough so that I could reach out and touch her. My arm wrapped around her waist and forced her to sit on my lap. She grabbed my cognac and swallowed what was left before she threw the glass over her head where it shattered on the blond hardwood floor.
I gritted my teeth. “You do realize that was one of a set . . . from Baccarat?”
She leaned toward me with that sexy smile and that look of seduction in her eyes. “You do realize I have enough money to replace your Baccarat crystal set so no need to get your boxer-briefs in a twist.” It was definitely a statement and not a question.
“I don’t want you to buy anything for me. I can replace it myself.” I breathed deeply, more frustrated with myself than her. Fuck, I couldn’t figure her out. She was still a puzzle I’d yet to solve and I was always so quick to read people. Sierra was the first person I’d met that appeared to be completely unreadable.
She had the good girl persona going on but there was so much to her. She was begging
to shed that skin and become someone else—her true self. Here in France, she could find what had been missing so long in her life, and I was happy to go on the journey with her . . . if she would let me.
Sierra leaned forward, her hot damp pussy making contact with my dick still stuffed uncomfortably in my pair of jeans. “You got any coke? Rock stars always have coke.”
Why didn’t it surprise me about her quick rush to judgment that I was a recreational drug user? Many artists actually abstained due to previous problems with substance and alcohol abuse so it certainly wasn’t something anyone should take for granted anymore.
Like many French people, I smoked cigarettes and could handle my alcohol intake. I liked the buzz but never got sloppy drunk or had ever passed out, not even during my teen years.
I would also freely admit to using drugs on social occasions but mostly marijuana. There were times Zero and I would pull out a vial of coke just to finish up whatever we were working on but it was a rare occurrence at best.
We were well aware how drugs could destroy the most promising bands, including three of my favorite groups from childhood—Alice in Chains, Nirvana and Stone Temple Pilots. Therefore it was a strict policy that members take surprise urine tests. I was pretty much okay with marijuana and the occasional coke but I had no tolerance for meth, heroin, GHB, X, or any other mind altering substances. The guys couldn’t even do ‘shrooms or acid—the last thing we needed was a band member running off a building thinking he could fly.
However, there was something about Sierra that I could barely control my sex drive let alone not giving a fuck what I usually thought about all “my band and self-imposed rules.” She had a playful yet devious nature about her and that made her a dangerous little bitch indeed.
“I do,” I began in a low, sensual masculine tone, “but why do you need it? Believe me, sex can be just as deeply satisfying when you’re not on drugs.”
“I don’t do drugs on a regular basis but I have a feeling I’ll need it if you plan to put that—” She pointed to my cock, “—inside of me tonight. No offense but I haven’t had sex in a while and I have never been with anyone as . . . um—shall we say?—well endowed as you. Are you trying to put Dirk Diggler out of business?”
I held her waist, despite her pussy juices soaking into my jeans. “Listen, it’s not that big. It’s only—mmm, how would you say in American English and your fucked up, non-metric system?—eight and one-half inches. The girth is thick but that is why I need to make sure you’re turned on. I would just never force it in. I’m not that kind of guy? Men like that are—how do you say?—fucking douchebags.” I stuck my tongue out at her. “That’s what this is for.”
Sierra stared in wonder at my pierced tongue. Her next move was even more unexpected as she wrapped her mouth around my tongue and suckled on it before she let it go. “No wonder why my orgasms were so powerful.”
“Not really. I wouldn’t be doing my job as a great lover if I didn’t know how to pleasure a woman thoroughly before I thought about my own.”
She raised her left brow in curiosity or just plain seduction as she grounded her wet pussy over my jeans-clad dick again. “Show me your bedroom, Mr. Bissette.”
We both knew she was playing with fire but who was I to judge? She was a novice compared to me and I would rather she had her first out-of-this-world fuck fest with me than any other guy. Though naïve in her own way, that certainly didn’t make her an innocent. She was my very own Pandora who wanted to open my dark box not knowing whether she really wanted to unleash the real me.
Despite it not really being in my nature to care about people who weren’t part of the club or my immediate family, I wanted to protect her in every way I could.
Certain aspects of my personality frightened me at times—how the hell would she deal with my nature of duality?
The thought of someone hurting her or taking advantage made my blood boil.
Even if that person happened to be me.
Fuck.
This was out of character for me, and I wasn’t sure if I welcomed this metamorphosis or not.
I walked side by side with Sierra until we reached my bedroom. I opened the double doors and she strode in without me. She lifted her dress and allowed it to fall off her body. She was naked underneath and the material whispered as it hit the floor.
Her sensual body distracted me with all of its curves in the right places. She wasn’t a skinny bitch—that was certain—but her body was nearer to athletic than voluptuous. She turned toward but all I could view was her profile.
Sierra possessed a rack of tits that had to be a big B or a small C-cup. They stood up against her chest wall and her areolas were quarter-sized with pinkish brown nipples. Like I thought, she had no excess fat in her stomach area, around her hips or thighs however that ass on display was perfect. It wasn’t flat; it was a heart-shaped bubble ass but without being excessive. She was perfectly imperfect and that’s what made her so fucking desirable.
I walked past her and opened a drawer near my King-sized bed. Inside, there was a mirror, a straight razor, a metal straw and a vial of blow. I was never stupid enough to keep it in a baggie. Plus it was the club’s cocaine to distribute so my father had to keep count for how much we took so we could pay him back. Even with having easy access to the drug, nothing was free.
I walked over to her and grabbed her arm as I led her toward the bed. “Ladies first,” I murmured as I dumped half the small vial out on the mirror. Quickly, I formed the coke into five straight lines.
Sierra stared at me with a peculiar smile on her face before she bent over like she wasn’t naked except for a pair of stilettos. Her pussy teased me as it glistened with her natural juices. She did two and a half lines before handing the mirror to me.
“Fuck, that’s strong.”
“It’s uncut.”
“Mmm, like you?”
I ignored her little sarcastic comment and snorted the rest of the two and a half lines left before she grabbed the mirror and placed it on my vanity table with a large mirror.
“Is there something I need to know before I have an uncircumcised man fuck me?”
“Not really,” I began in a deep voice. “Being uncircumcised here in Europe is like being circumcised in America I guess. Unless you are Jewish or Muslim, men here don’t get circumcised. However, there is an upside.” I walked over to her naked body and traced my fingers down her arm. “My cock is ultra-sensitive so I feel more during sex than a circumcised male. Plenty of articles have been done on the subject. Also, I am extremely clean. I’m not some slob that forgets to pull away my foreskin when I take a shower. And you’re not even likely to notice when I’m as rock hard as I am now. It’s no big deal. I took a shower after the concert so I’m fresh and will meet your expectations in the penis department.”
Sierra laughed out loud before her face turned serious. “To be completely honest, I truly don’t care. Circumcised men spread as many diseases as uncircumcised men. It has to do with the certain guy, not whether he has a ‘hoodie’ or not. It’s how you were born. Personally, I consider it genital mutilation. If a man wants to do that when he is an adult then that’s fine but forcing it on babies and boys doesn’t seem right. You have nothing to be ashamed of—”
“What makes you think I’ve ever been ashamed of my cock?” I rubbed it against the seam of jeans. “No woman has ever complained and I couldn’t give a fuck about what’s accepted practice in America. I don’t live there and here, men don’t get circumcised in the numbers they do in the United States. I’m not spouting bullshit but fact.
“Go to any European country, even the UK, and you’ll be hard pressed to find a circumcised guy unless it’s in his religion to do so or he was infected and the best way to clear up the infection was to cut off the foreskin. My dick is my pride and joy, ‘hoodie’ or not. Do I look like a man who has an issue with his sexuality?”
She undid her heals, and walked naked toward me. “No, you don�
�t.”
My cock throbbed to its own beat as I looked at her luscious body.
Where to start?
Her breasts brushed against my thin shirt while her gorgeous hazel-green eyes stared into mine with heated anticipation. Her perfect pussy was slick and ready to be explored yet that would have to wait, mostly because anticipation was the spice of life. No part of this night would be rushed.
Sierra pulled my face down to meet hers and kissed my lips. She was gentle at first, her soft lips barely grazing my own before she playfully ran her tongue over mine. I quickly took the lead as I grabbed her under her buttocks and she hopped on my body, her legs wrapped around my waist as I deepened our kiss. Her mouth was warm and tasted of cognac and Cristal champagne as our tongues met teased each other mercifully.
She moaned into my mouth as I completely devoured her, our mouths pressed so hard against one another, our lips would definitely be bruised. Fuck, my cock throbbed with an ache I could barely control as her naked pelvis gyrated against my waist, soaking my shirt with her juices.
“Is that what you like?” I managed to ask the moment I pulled away from her.
“I don’t know what I like . . . I’ve never been asked . . . but I am prepared to have you give it to me as rough as you want.”
She was a dichotomy I had no idea existed until our ride in the limo. With a face like a fucking angel, she wanted me to fuck her hard? So be it. I could give her whatever she truly desired even if she didn’t know it yet. Plus I wasn’t the flowers and chocolates type of guy. Although I had never been in love, I knew my addiction to rough sex wouldn’t change.
I wouldn’t fist her nor would there be any bodily fluid play—outside of what my cock and her pussy produced. Everything else was on the table—nipple clamps, clit clamps, handcuffs, specially designed rope for S&M, and fucking her until she couldn’t move. It would be a busy night just getting her used to me stretching her open and teaching her how to use her mouth on my dick but in the next couple of days, I would have sampled all three holes on her body and she was going to love it.
Sympathy For Diablo (Breathless Eternity #1) Page 8