Easing his hold at the silent indication that it was too much after her orgasm, he ran his mouth back up to hers and nibbled on her lower lip before shifting to lie on his side beside her, one leg thrown over hers. Yeah, it was possessive. He didn’t care. “You’re noisy in bed.” He pressed his lips to her shoulder. “I like it.” There was no guessing; she told him exactly what she liked and he found that erotic enough to scramble his brain.
Weaving her fingers into his hair, she said, “I’ve never been that loud.” Her tone held a tinge of shock. “David, I think you blew my circuits.”
He grinned. “Good, because I don’t have any circuits left.” Sliding his hand lightly over her breast and down her stomach to cup her gently between the thighs, he braced himself on one elbow and bent down to sip at her lips in teasing little kisses.
She closed her thighs around his hand.
Feeling the aftershocks that rippled through her, he stroked her core with a finger while continuing to cup her. Her arms came around him, her body undulating against him. “This is ludicrous,” she said breathlessly. “I can’t come again.”
David chuckled and continued to kiss her, hold her, pet her. She did come again. It was quieter this time, softer, and just as stunning. Watching her as the pleasure took her under, he felt his heart ache. She was so lovely, and she’d given him the right to put his hands on her. Kissing her as the final tremors faded from her skin, he removed his hand to curve it over her hip.
Breath short and shallow, she turned toward him and slid her own thigh between his. “I think I’m done.” Fingers stroking down his chest. “For now.”
David ran one hand over her body, his other arm acting as his pillow, and just looked at her. Her skin was flushed and marked by his kisses and caresses, her hair tumbled and her breasts reddened. She looked deliciously used and sated, and best of all, she looked like that in his bed.
“I really,” he said ten minutes of lazy quiet later, “want to do that again.”
Thea drew a circle around one of his nipples, leaned in to lick over the flat disk. He groaned and turned onto his back. She came with him, her breasts rubbing over his chest as she kissed his throat, then his jaw, his mouth. “I could be persuaded.” A wicked smile. “You know I like the Gentleman of Rock’s dirty side.”
He loved her smile, loved that she was teasing him. Utterly gone for her, he palmed one of her bottom cheeks, squeezed the firm curve of it… and his stomach growled. “Shit.”
Her hair creating a soft, silky curtain around them, Thea laughed. “Time for some fuel?”
“Fuck fuel. I want you.”
And he had her—or she had him, a slender goddess rising and falling on his cock in a slow rhythm that made his balls draw up tight and fresh perspiration break out over his skin. He gave in, allowed himself to be taken. He was hers after all.
Thea sat on the kitchen counter dressed in one of David’s Armani shirts. It was white with fine blue pinstripes and he’d put her in it, leaving most of the buttons undone. He was throwing together some pasta for them while she nibbled on trail mix and enjoyed looking at him in his low-slung jeans.
Barefoot and shirtless, he was just yummy.
And as she now knew, the man wasn’t all talk. Holy hell, he was definitely no gentleman in bed. There, he was pure, raw sex… and a sweet tenderness that made her feel cherished even while they were doing the most carnal things. A silent sigh escaping her, she visually traced the lines of text running vertically down the back of his left shoulder.
It was the first time she’d had a real look at his tats. Unlike the other guys, he never took off his T-shirt onstage and had never agreed to do a magazine profile where he was shirtless. He’d been photographed shirtless while on the beach, of course, but like most paparazzi pictures, those images didn’t have the level of intricate detail that would showcase his ink.
At first, she’d figured his choice was smart brand management; as the man crowned the Gentleman of Rock, he had a unique place in the market. He was the first rocker Thea had had as a client who’d been offered endorsement deals by luxury watch companies and designers who specialized in top-of-the-line shirts and suits.
He rarely accepted those offers, though the one campaign he’d done had been through-the-roof successful. Everyone wanted to undress the sexy rock star who wore button-down shirts and turned up to events in finely tailored suits. The idea of what lay underneath drove women nuts.
Now that Thea had seen, felt, what was underneath, she wanted to tell those women to eat their hearts out. The man was certifiably hot. He was also shy on a deeper level than even she had initially understood. His clothing choices had nothing to do with brand management—that was a happy accident—David just wasn’t comfortable being half-naked in public.