Lick: Stage Dive 1(44)

Fingers wrapped around my leg before sliding down to cup a butt cheek. He pulled me in against him and moved deeper inside me. Rocking against me until I’d taken him all. Which was a problem, because there wasn’t enough damn room in me for him.

“It’s okay,” he groaned.

Easy for him to say.

Shit.

Bodies flush against each another we lay there, unmoving. My arms were around his head so tight, clinging to him, that I’m not certain how he breathed. Somehow he managed to turn his face enough to kiss my neck, lick the sweat from my skin. Up, over my jaw to my mouth. The death grip I had on him eased when he kissed me.

“That’s it,” he said. “Try and relax for me.”

I nodded jerkily, willing my body to unwind.

“You are so damn beautiful and, God, you feel fucking amazing.” His big hand petted my breast, calloused fingers stroking down my side, easing me. My muscles began to relax incrementally, adjusting to his presence. The hurt faded more every time he touched me, whispering words of praise.

“This is good,” I said at last, my hands resting on his biceps. “I’m okay.”

“No, you’re better than okay. You’re amazing.”

I gave him a giddy smile. He said the best things.

“You mean I can move?” he asked.

“Yes.”

He started rocking against me again, moving a little more each time. Gradually gaining momentum as our bodies moved slickly together. We fit, mostly. And we were actually doing it, the deed. Talk about feeling close to someone. You couldn’t get physically closer. I was so profoundly glad it was him. It meant everything.

Tommy had lasted two seconds. Long enough to break my hymen and hurt me. David touched me and kissed me and took his time. Slowly, the sweet heat, that sensation of pressure building, came again. He tended to it with care, feeding me long, wet kisses. Stroking himself into me in a way that brought only pleasure. He was incredible, watching me so closely, gauging my reactions to everything he did.

Eventually, I clung onto him and came hard. It felt like the New Year’s fireworks display inside me, hot and bright and perfect. So much more with inside and over me, his skin plastered to mine. I stuttered out his name and he pressed hard against me. When he groaned his whole body shuddered. He buried his face in my neck, his breath heating my skin.

We’d done it.

Huh.

Wow.

Things did ache a little. People were right about that. But nothing like last time.

Carefully, he moved off me, collapsing on the bed at my side.

“We did it,” I whispered.

His eyes opened. His chest was still heaving, working to get more air into him. After a moment, he rolled onto his side to face me. There’d never been a better man. Of this I was certain.

“Yeah. You okay?” he asked.

“Yes.” I shuffled closer, seeking out the heat of his body. He slid an arm over my waist, drawing me in. Letting me know I was wanted. Our faces were a bare hand’s width apart. “It was so much better than last time. I think I like sex after all.”

“You have no idea how relieved I am to hear that.”

“Were you nervous?”

He chuckled shuffling closer. “Not as nervous as you were. I’m glad you liked it.”

“I loved it. You’re a man of many talents.”

His smile took on a certain glow.

“You’re not going to get all cocky on me now, are you? All puns intended.”

“I wouldn’t dare. I trust you to keep me grounded, Mrs Ferris.”

“Mrs Ferris,” I said, with no small amount of wonder. “How about that?”

“Hmm.” His fingers stroked my face.

I caught his bare hand, inspecting it. “You don’t have a ring.”

“No, I don’t. We’ll have to fix that.”

“Yes, we will.”

He smiled. “Hey, Mrs Ferris.”

“Hey, Mr Ferris.”

There wasn’t enough room in me for all the feelings he inspired.

Not even close.





CHAPTER ELEVEN




We spent the afternoon back down in the recording studio with Tyler and Mal. When David wasn’t playing he pulled me onto his lap. When he was busy on guitar, I listened in awe of his talent. He didn’t sing, so I remained in the dark about the lyrics. But the music was beautiful in a raw, rock ’n’ roll sort of way. Mal seemed pleased with the new material, bopping his head along in time.

Tyler beamed behind the splendid board of buttons and dials. “Play that lick again, Dave.” My husband nodded and his fingers moved over the fretboard, making magic.

Pam had been busy while we’d been upstairs, starting on unpacking the collection of boxes. When she made a move to return to the job in the early evening I went with her. Unasked or not, it wasn’t fair that she got lumped with the task on her own. Plus, it pleased my inner need to organize. I snuck back downstairs now and then as the hours passed, stealing kisses, before heading back up to help Pam again. David and co remained immersed in the music. They’d come up seeking food or drink but returned immediately to the studio.