Twisted(78)

She didn’t hesitate. “Yes. I want it in my mouth.” Leaning forward, she bit the muscled cords of his neck and relished his ragged exhalation. “But I need you in my pussy more. It’s aching without you.”

“Christ. Do it now.”

She shifted forward, taking him inside her in one slow roll. Her flesh stretched around his erection, the familiar quick sting from his size fading into a wave of pure longing. It cramped her belly and made her clumsy as she gripped his shoulders and bounced on his lap, too excited to take the time to ride him the way she should. He groaned and steadied her hips, lifting her up and easing her back down so slowly that she had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from crying out. Blood bloomed on her tongue and involuntarily, she squeezed around him.

“Jesus. I gotta fuck you hard, baby. This isn’t going to take long.”

“Yes. Please.” She wrapped an arm around his shoulders for balance and used the other to grab a handful of his damp hair. “I need it as hard as you can.”

“Hang on.” He spread his legs, changing the angle slightly, and lifted off the bench, surging into her so deeply that she nearly lost her hold on him. “That’s not hanging on,” he panted.

She dug her nails into his arm and squeezed him again, tilting into him and crashing her mouth down onto his. She fed on his lips and tongue, sucking and biting on them as he gripped her ass and set a manic rhythm. His air fueled her and she gave it right back, moaning at every powerful thrust.

Her skirt fell over his lap, hopefully hiding most of what they were doing just in case someone poked their head back onstage. But she really didn’t care, because her world had narrowed to his long, thick cock moving in and out of her, scraping her clit and her piercing and pulling the rawest, dirtiest sounds from her throat.

“You’ve got thirty seconds to come. Otherwise I’m going to pull out and leave this beautiful pussy empty again, because I know someone’s going to walk out here and see me fucking you. And baby, that can’t happen.” He dragged his teeth over her lower lip. “No one gets to see your face while you’re on the verge of orgasm but me.”

If she hadn’t been on the edge—hell, dangling over it—his raspy demands probably wouldn’t have triggered her to fall. But with that little nudge, she stopped fighting her climax. It hit her like a tsunami, destroying her awareness of everything but the feeling of her walls contracting in hard pulses around his rigid shaft.

She whimpered, her forehead bumping against his as she lost her precarious balance yet again. Her orgasm didn’t seem to have an end. The pleasure overwhelmed her, shorting out her senses until she couldn’t see anything but the naked need in his eyes. That need surrounded her, feeding her own. “God. Gray. God.”

He groaned and buried his face in the crook between her neck and shoulder. His body quaked with his obvious struggle to restrain his own release. “Sugar, why you gotta test me?”

“Don’t hold back,” she breathed when she could form words again. “I’m still empty. You better fill me up. Now.”

He hauled her back down, so roughly that the thrill zipped up her spine and intensified her aftershocks. He pushed up into her, hitting that spot that caused her to tingle from head-to-toe. She tried to focus on him, to help him get there, but God, he felt so good inside her, and his hands flexing on her ass added an extra bit of sensation. Those calloused fingers caressing her skin left sparks in their wake. He was touching her everywhere, inside and out, his heat overpowering her. She surrendered to it and to him, giving into another rapid climax with a cry that he muffled with a desperate kiss.

And then he rewarded her even more by thrusting deep one last time and spilling himself inside her. “Jazz.” Still shaking, he dropped his damp forehead to hers and mouthed her three favorite words, imprinting them on her trembling lips and branding them on her soul. “I love you.”





CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Then



“How did I get stuck pushing a shopping cart when I was supposed to be auditioning tonight?” Jazz asked.

Gray tossed a bag of corn chips in the cart and hipchecked her into a row of brownie mix. Giggling, she grabbed a package with peanut butter chips and added that to their purchases. “Because the guys need to eat. Fuel, ya know? Once we start practicing, we usually keep at it half the night. Especially if Stevie’s dad’s out drinking. Then no one bothers us.”

“But I can’t stay out half the night. Your mom will kill me.”

He grabbed a couple of bags of pretzels and added them to the growing pile. “So you should go home like a good girl and pull the covers up to your chin.”