Page 36 of Rock Star

“Enough,” he grunted, “or I’ll come in my jeans.”

He lifted me against his strong chest and, bending my knees, carried me across the suite toward the bedroom. The scent of the pink roses in a vase on my dressing table perfumed the air.

He laid me on the gold silk covering the bed. “I’m going to undress you now.” His eyes smoldered. “Then I’m going to make love to you.”

I held his gaze. “Yes, please, make love to me.”

He unzipped my jeans and I lifted my butt while he slithered them down my legs, followed by my panties. I sat up and he unbuttoned my blouse. I could have done it myself, but it was hotter having him do it for me. Next, he unclipped my bra. He played with my breasts and tugged at my nipples, sending jolts of desire through me.

I brushed his thick hair back from his face and caressed the soft beard on his chin. “Time for you to get undressed,” I dared to suggest.

Maybe it was the champagne making me bold. Or maybe I had gotten more confident with him. Whatever. He seemed to like it and barked out a laugh.

“Little Miss Bossy,” he grinned.

Still laughing, he shrugged off his shirt and removed his jeans, taking his shoes and socks with them.

He clambered onto the bed beside me.

Licking my lips, I feasted my greedy eyes on his penis. Rosy on top, veined on the shaft, and nestled in brown fuzz at the base.

Beautiful.

He came down on top of me and kissed me ravenously.

I pushed at his hard, lean body, trying to shove him between my legs.

“Ah, ah, ah. Not so fast,” he snickered, mouthing my breasts and drawing them into his hot mouth.

My entire body hummed with need. “Please,” I whimpered.

He raised his head, licked three fingers and, before I’d even registered his intentions, he reached down between my thighs. His gaze holding mine, he slid those fingers over my entrance, massaging me into a frenzy.

“Please,” I begged again.

“Since you ask so nicely,” he chuckled low in his throat.

He slipped his fingers into me. “You’re so wet and tight,” he rasped.

Shocks ran through me, and I felt myself begin to tighten.

I arched my back and pressed down on him, panting.

He told me how beautiful I was and rubbed deep inside me, sliding over my clit and deeper, dipping into me, his fingers moving with a rhythm that echoed a song.

He was playing me like an instrument. His instrument. And I freaking loved it.

“Axel,” I moaned.

“Yes, baby, yes.”

He bent and sucked on my breast, his tongue flicking my nipple in syncopation with his fingers, driving me higher and higher.

“I’m gonna come,” I squealed.

“Yes, come. Come for me, baby.”

His fingers dipped deeper, pumped even faster, and his thumb found my clit.

Every inch of me vibrated and I fell off the edge. I held onto his muscled shoulders, crying out with the intensity of coming. “Ahhh.”

He kissed me hard, his erection digging into my stomach.

I was still pulsing around his fingers.

“Not done yet,” he smiled, slipping his fingers out then flipping me over.

He grabbed my hips and hoisted my ass into the air.

“Oh!” I gasped.

I turned my head and watched him sheath himself.

He eased into me, filling me. I was still sensitive from my orgasm, but soon his long hard strokes had built up the pressure again.

I rocked myself against him, taking him deep.

He held my hips and pulled me onto him.

I rested my weight on my bent elbows and, with rocking movements, slid myself up and down on his penis.

He wrapped one arm around my waist and yanked me all the way up onto my hands. “Good girl.”

His fingers moved over the curve of my hip and between my legs. He found my clit and started plucking at it, like I was the string of a guitar.

The pleasure was so intense, it was almost painful.

“Oh. My. God,” I shrieked.

I came again.

Strongly.

An earth- shattering release that reverberated through me.

Whimpering, I clutched the gold bedspread in my fists.

Axel kept on thrusting into me. “That’s my girl.”

My legs shook with the force of his thrusting.

“I’m coming,” he cried out at last with a volley of thrusts that pushed me into the mattress.

I collapsed onto the bed, turned my head again and he brought his mouth to mine, kissing me with such passion it brought tears to my eyes.

He rolled off me and onto his side, drawing me into his arms. His chest rose and fell under my palms, his muscles contracting and releasing with each breath.

I felt his heart pound.

I lifted my head and our gazes locked.

“I’ve fallen in love with you, Phoenix,” he said, his voice serious. “Do you feel the same about me?”

I stared at him.

At this beautiful, sensitive man.

I loved him.

I loved him heart and soul.

But what about the band? What about my plans for the future?

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