Page 61 of Hold Still

“Yes!” he exclaims as he covers my entire back with his front.

I can’t move. I’m caught between a rock and a hard place, literally. His hands snake around me and grab my breasts as he pulls back and slams into me over and over. He swivels his hips and his piercing hits me at the right spot.

“God,” I hiss.

He does it again and I moan. “Told you you’d like it better inside.”

I can’t speak, my body is one big nerve ending that starts and stops with his erection. He controls my body. His fingers pinch my nipples, sending bites of pain directly to where he’s pounding into me. His teeth latch onto my earlobe. What this man does to me.

“Come for me now,” he orders.

I push back as much as I am able, keeping our relentless rhythm going. He bites me again and I scream as fireworks shoot throughout my body. The piercing moving within me prolongs my ecstasy for longer than I’ve ever felt before.

Behind me, he stills and then lets out a harsh cry of release, his fingers digging into my breasts. He collapses on my back. We remain like this until our breathing slows down to a mere gallop.

“Damn. That was better than I remember.” He nips the back of my neck. “Knew we’d get here again.”

“It was something else.”

His hands slide down my sides, stopping at my hips. He pulls out of me and steps back, and ties off the condom. Turning, I stare at his cock which, although depleted, is not flaccid. I want him. Again. His shirt is still on the ground, so I slow-walk him over to it and drop to my knees.

Grinning at him, I say, “I got interrupted.”

He runs his fingers through my hair like I’ve seen him do to himself several times. A smile crosses his face. “Have at it.”

That’s all I need to hear. I lick my lips and his cock bounces, already recharging before my eyes. Sticking my tongue out, I run it up one side of him and down the other, weaving past his piercing. I pay close attention to the vein on the underside of his shaft and drop lower, sucking on one of his balls.

“Feels so good. Don’t stop.”

After giving the same attention to the other one, I return to his shaft and work my way up and over and back down to the base.

“Suck me.” His hand fists my hair, but he doesn’t push. “Please.”

I sit back on my heels. “Since you asked so nicely.” Opening my mouth wide, I envelope his cock, the piercing teasing the back of my throat. He continues to grow bigger as I suck harder, hollowing my cheeks.

His hips get into the act, pushing back and forth as he fucks my face. He’s coming undone in my mouth, and I love it. Owning this man, even if it’s for a little while, is a heady experience.

I make figure eights with my tongue until he throws his head back and moans. Then, I bring my hands to his balls and run a fingernail over one.

“Fuck. I’m almost there.”

That’s the idea. I continue working him over in the rhythm he sets with his hands on the back of my head. He swells, stills, then releases his essence down my throat. I make sure to lick every last drop before letting him fall from my lips.

Looking down at me, he says, “Home. I want to get you to my home. Now.”

In no time flat, we’re both fully dressed and back on Shirley, speeding through the streets of Las Vegas. My mind races faster than we’re traveling. After everything that’s happened, I deserve this break from my reality.

He scoots around my little Honda and stops the bike. Shaking his head as if arguing with himself, he says, “McKenna, I want you to hear what I did with ‘Honesty.’ It’s done. And I started another song.” He takes off his helmet and admits, “It’s you. You’re my muse.” He nips my earlobe. “In more ways than one.”

With those words, he hops off the bike and leads me into the music room. I’m his muse now? Is that a good thing? Well, yes. He’s writing more songs, which means I can do my job and finish up the Project. And get paid.

A nagging thought tells me he means more to me than a simple paycheck. Much more.

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