“These are my favorite,” she whimpered. The need to lift her and impale her made me dizzy. My cock ached with desperation, but she got to guide this time.
“They’d feel even better inside you,” I taunted, wanting her to take the bait. Her eyes darkened before she rose, taking it.
Like our first time, she hovered, only letting an inch inside her. “Like this?” I nodded, my hands had to be bruising her hips with how hard they dug in. She lowered a little more, the control she had turning me on as much as the cock tease she’d become.
“More,” I groaned, unable to stop the plea. “Need your cunt wrapped around me.”
Without any more pushing, she slammed down on me and I saw stars. “Fuck,” I hissed, holding her hips as if they were my only fucking anchor point.
She rose and fell above me, using me for her own pleasure. “It’s so different up here,” she whimpered, bouncing aggressively. “You constantly hit my g-spot.”
I couldn’t breathe as my cock pulsed, and I lost control, gripping her. She moaned as I fucked into her from the bottom, using all my strength to push into her. We rocked together and the sounds of our lovemaking filled the room like my band’s music did an hour before.
“You’re perfect for me, little demon. My little fuck toy.”
“Yes, yes, yes,” she chanted, and finally my balls tightened, forcing my orgasm out of me. I growled out her name, feeling the stream of my own release pulsing inside her.
“You’re mine, Andy. All fucking mine.”
She collapsed on top of my body and kissed my throat. “All yours.”
Chapter Fifty-Five
We Will Meet Once Again – Josh Groban & Andrea Bocelli
Five months later
Madden
“Donnie Oswald, the last half of Windowless Skies, was found in an alleyway, murdered. His body was exposed, his wallet taken, and the pictures are here!”
“Holy shit,” I let out, reading the headline on my phone. I stared at the news and couldn’t breathe at the way it stole every oxygen molecule from my body.
“What’s wrong?” Andy asked, coming from the kitchen, holding my black coffee with a pinch of salt and her own caramel latte. Her eyes wandered over mine, unsure of what I felt, and I didn’t know either.
I felt often now, especially where she was concerned, but deciphering and working through those emotions was still a little troublesome.
One thing that often got me in trouble with my therapist was my inability to explain what went through my mind.
She always asked what filtered through at times of emotions. Was it a thought, an action, or something more tangible, like an actual emotion I had words for?
I wasn’t stupid. I felt surprise, and love, and excitement, but when emotions such as the one filtering through my system right now occurred, my brain didn’t quite know how to verbalize it.
“Look,” I offered, unsure of how to explain it without reading it. Scanning her face as she read over an article, a little twitch of her upper lip caught me off guard.
Contempt.
I’d been taught that emotion early on from my therapist. She explained that the face naturally had micro-expressions, even as we schooled our features, they’d pop through.
“Good,” she stated, taking a sip of her drink and handing my cell back to me. Her eyes stared off into the distance, but the way her face seemed calm, each expression relaxed, told me she knew before me showing her.
“You knew?” I asked, wondering where that came from. Andy and I were very open with our feelings, especially since I couldn’t read how she felt, I needed the words.
She peered at me, the little cinnamon flecks in her brown eyes almost sparkling as she smiled. “Just a few phone calls and it was handled.”
My stomach dropped, the clench boiled inside me, an acidic-like feeling. “Why?” I knew what she’d done, I even knew the money we had would pay for anything to be hidden.
Donnie was dead.
Dead, dead. Not the kind that I pretended for so long in order to move on.
She peered at the coffee table; the wood whiskey barrel we had custom-made into a rustic piece that fit perfectly with our homely aesthetic here. Setting down her mug, her fingers settled on her thigh, then trailed up my arm before she leaned in, taking my lips with hers.
It’d only been a few months since we’d been kissing, touching, choosing each other. I hadn’t gotten used to her taste, the synapses of energy exchanged between us when our bodies met in any capacity.
The warmth spread through me, distracting me from the wonders of my own brain. She silenced the voices, the ones that made my skin itch. She soothed the misinterpreted lyrics and gave me my own symphony.
Her tongue swiped gently at my bottom lip, flicking over the metal of my piercings purposefully. I groaned, allowing her access, and she grabbed my coffee before I spilled it. Setting it down, she didn’t separate from my mouth, and my hands subconsciously sought out her throat.
Flares of arousal hit my groin, sidling up my body like a firestorm of desperation. It burned away the ick that only came from others.
She brought me freedom, and I absorbed every fucking ounce she offered.
She moaned into my mouth when my venom piercings flicked at her. She pushed into me as our passion took over, stealing all common thought. My cock ached behind my sweats, pressing toward her, seeking her comfort.
Andy erased all my doubts and replaced them with dreams. She stole my breath and offered me life. Gripping the pulse points on her neck, I squeezed, eliciting the best sounding moan I’d ever heard. I wanted to be inside her, to tear her apart and steal every sound.
The harmonies we created together were better than any sonnet I could perform. The way they blended harmoniously drove me fucking mad.
She was my song.
My muse.
The intention when I wrote.
Pulling back, she leaned into my throat, licking a long stroke, making sure she sucked hard, wanting to leave her love bites where the entire world could see them.
My blood hummed when her hands slid up my bare chest. She brought the best kind of chills across my skin. My nipples hardened, and she made sure to brush her fingertips over them.
“Fuck, little demon. Your touch destroys me.”
She hummed happily, sucking on my throat like a vampire in heat. She ground on top of me, gyrating her hips to barely touch my cockhead.
Heat emanated from my chest, spreading outward, and the absolute glee that filled me at her touch didn’t stop, it burned brighter and brighter as my cock throbbed in sync with my heart.
It beat for her.
It beat for us.
“You’re distracting me,” I groaned, and she flicked the metal piece in my nipple, forcing me to growl in need. My cock leaked, the tip wetting at the knowledge that this woman was mine.
She was my fucking woman.
“You’re so talkative most days, but you’re teasing my cock to avoid a conversation and stay silent...” I trailed off as her mouth wrapped around my nipple, flicking the metal like it was my cock. She teased, taunting me without words.
Torture.
Fucking torture.
“If you don’t stop, I’m going to fuck you, Andy. I’m going to fill your cunt.”
She giggled, the light and airy sound making me rumble. Fuck, her joy brought me every type of warmth. It brought a smile to my face, knowing she wanted it.