Rock with Me
Page 11

“Pink,” he whispers.
“What?”
“Your pussy is pink. I’ve wondered if your pussy is as pink as your lips since the day I met you.”
“What?” I lift up onto my elbows and stare down at him, open-mouthed.
“It is,” he assures me and nuzzles it with his nose, and then spreads my thighs wider, opening me up to him, and licks me from my folds to my clit, in one long lick.
“Oh God,” I groan and lay back, flinging an arm over my face. Oral sex always makes me nervous.
It’s too intimate.
But I don’t want to tell him to stop. He’s too damn good at it.
He pulls my labia into his mouth and sucks with little pulses, pushes his hands under my ass to tilt my pelvis up for him, and plunges that delicious tongue deep inside me.
I cry out and grip the cool sheets in my fists, writhing against his face. He gentles his strokes, and then closes his mouth and rubs that metal against my lips and up over my clit, catching it in the loop, and pulls up, then sucks my nub into his mouth and sucks.
Hard.
I plant my heels on his back and come apart, pushing my pelvis up, and begging him to never stop.
Holy fucking hell that piercing is going to kill me.
He releases my clit and kisses it gently, and as I come down from my high, he gently kisses and massages my pussy with his fingers, crooning to me, but I can’t understand the words.
Finally, he climbs back up my body, leaving wet kisses in his wake, and settles himself between my legs. He pushes my hair off my face and kisses me softly.
I can taste myself, and it turns me on all over again.
“I taste good on your lips,” I whisper. His eyes flare in lust.
“You are amazing, sunshine.”
“Why do you call me that?” I ask and slowly thrum my fingers up and down his back. He looks like he’s thinking about it, a small frown forming between his eyebrows, but he smiles down at me.
“Because of your pretty blonde hair.”
“Huh.” I rotate my hips, and feel his erection against my core. “You need to wrap that bad boy up, my friend. There are condoms in the bedside table.” And I need you off of me.
“I thought you didn’t invite men here.” He pushes off of me and opens the drawer, pulls out the condom and rolls it on.
“I rarely invite men here, and it’s good to be prepared.” Before he can climb back on top of me, I straddle his lap; knees planted at his hips and wrap my arms around his neck. His hands immediately roam all over my back and I moan softly.
It feels so good to be touched!
He grips my hips and lifts me gently until the head of his beautiful cock is poised to sink inside me.
“Are you ready?” He asks against my lips.
I kiss him and push down slowly, groaning with him as he impales me all the way to my cervix.
“Fucking A you feel good, sunshine.”
“Mmm.” I agree and begin to move, clenching around him, riding him.
“Fuck,” he whispers again and looks down to watch. “That’s sexy.”
He leans back on his elbows, bends his knees, and begins to buck, pushing in and out of me hard.
It’s the most intense thing I’ve ever felt.
“God, Leo,” I cry and lose myself in him; riding him so hard my legs start to shake. He pushes one hand between us and worries my clit with his thumb, and I cry out.
“That’s it, baby, come for me.” He pushes harder with his hips, presses harder with his thumb, and I come undone at the seams, crying out his name.
He sits up again and grips my hips firmly, impaling himself all the way, and follows me into his own orgasm, growling as he spills himself inside me.
“Damn, baby,” he whispers and pushes my hair behind my ears. “You are incredible.” He kisses my breasts, my collarbones, and then my chin.
“You’re no amateur yourself,” I murmur and chuckle when he bites my neck playfully.
“Let me stay,” he whispers, his eyes happy and on mine. I can’t resist him.
I nod happily and twine my arms around his neck. “Stay.”
Chapter Four
I wake to my bedroom falling dark with shadows and a cold bed. We fell asleep after a particularly vigorous round of crazy sex, but I didn’t plan to sleep so long. I sit up and glance around the room, spying Leo’s shirt still on the bathroom floor and suddenly realize I smell bacon.
Bacon in the evening?
I climb out of the bed, throw on a black silk robe and follow my nose. My feet come to an abrupt stop at the entrance to the kitchen, and I’m mesmerized.
Leo Nash, rocker superstar, is in my kitchen cooking.
Half naked.
He pulled jeans on -where did he get those?- but they’re loose as though he didn’t button them, and he’s clearly not wearing his underwear. He has the most amazing dimples above his ass.
His shoulders are wide, but lean, like the rest of him. He’s muscular, although not like the Montgomerys. He has a runner’s body.
His hair is a mess from my fingers, and I want to bury them back in there and hold on to him.
He glances back at me with a half-smile and my stomach clenches.
Shit, I’m in so much trouble.
“Hey, sleepy-head.”
“Hey.” I walk to him, wrap my arms around his waist and kiss his back, between his shoulder blades. He’s so tall next to me. Or I’m short. “You cook too?”
“A bit. You had breakfast stuff, so I dug in. I hope that’s okay.”