Star Struck(BBW Rocker Romance)(34)

“You intoxicate me,” he said, meeting her glazed green gaze for a few moments. “You’re a fever in my blood, Mandy. I’m never going to let this end.”

His thumb in her ass worked with more fervor in tandem with his cock in her pussy, which she rode right along with her ass bouncing back against him. He cried out harshly.

“Is it good for you?” she gasped, turning again in surprise at the way he’d practically roared.

“Yeah, baby. I told you, you’re amazing. So beautiful,” Ethan muttered through clenched teeth as his hands shifted back to her hips and helped her undulating movements. She ground her ass into him, taking him deeper, now fucking herself on his cock while he paused and watched her move with his mouth slack with deep-set delight.

“That’s it. Make yourself come. Take that cock, baby. It belongs to you.”

Her moans turned to keening as she did as his crude words demanded. She moved back and forth with faster propulsion, causing Ethan to shut his eyes tight to fight off the thunderous waves coming from him as he felt her twitch and pulsate around him. In mere seconds she was screaming, body bucking uncontrollably as she finally came.

Ethan had managed to hold off for as long as it had taken, but now he simply let go, shooting his hot seed into her and growling like a beast as he shook from his own tumultuous orgasm. Bracing his weight on both arms propped on the counter, he leaned over to kiss her forehead, his lips held there for several seconds before he pulled back. “Thank you,” he said simply.

She giggled, finally moving as her pussy reflexively continued to grip his still-hard cock. “That should be my line, mister. That was…mind-blowing.”

“I aim to please,” he said modestly before carefully withdrawing from her suction-like pussy. He pulled her t-shirt down her thighs with gentle hands and then turned her to face him for a quick, hard, and possessive kiss.

“You’re mine,” he said thickly.

“Yes.”

“Marcus is history,” he added in a no-nonsense tone. He liked that she didn’t hesitate when she murmured her agreement.

With a groan, he gathered her in his arms and hugged her, so tight she let out a soft cry of protest even as she laughed softly and happily.

They didn’t say much else after that. They didn’t need to. She had to get back home and he needed to meet up with the band for a recording at one of the commercial studios the band used when they worked together. Ethan knew they’d have left a hundred messages since last night when he’d left the club unannounced, but he didn’t care about that either. He felt reluctant to leave their perfect little bubble here, but reality awaited.

He saw her staring at her phone, which she’d unearthed from her bag once she’d finished getting dressed. The look on her face was the first unpleasant expression he’d seen in several hours.

“Marcus?” Ethan said with a tightened jaw as he shrugged into his own black coat.

“Yes,” Mandy said with a deep sigh. “Looks like the business trip got cut short and he’ll be back today. From his text, he wants to see me. It’s almost as if he suspects that something’s wrong.”

“But nothing’s wrong,” Ethan said firmly, moving closer to her and cupping her face. “You and me are the one thing that’s right, right now. Marcus is the problem, not us. How are you going to fix him?”

She stared up into his piercing, no-nonsense gaze. “I’ll tell him it’s over. I’ll…I’ll tell him about us. He deserves that much.”

“You’re right,” Ethan said, kissing her temple lingeringly. “You won’t regret this, I promise. This is right. I believe that more than I’ve believed anything in a long while.”

“I believe it too,” Mandy said, breathing deeply as she rested her cheek on his broad chest. He asked if she could meet him for dinner later and she agreed. But then she asked him to drop her off at her parents’ house instead.

Fifteen minutes later they were on the road again, headed back to the main part of the city. Ethan’s hand kept linking with hers and lifting it to his lips for a kiss. She kept smiling at the romantic gesture. She’d given him the address to her folk’s place, which was an attractive semi-detached home surrounded by obviously well-loved rose bushes.

“I’d better dash in now before any of my sisters recognize you. They’re your biggest fans and they love the band, too. Tiffany is eighteen and has a poster of you over her bed – the one where you wore the stylized wings, bare-chested and dressed in nothing else but a pair of tight black leather pants.”