Page 41 of Undercover Star
It was heady to watch Matisse slowly impale himself. With his eyes closed and his head thrown back he looked every inch the star he was. The way he rolled his hips explained why his fans numbered in the millions, and Josh groaned his appreciation, convinced he'd not last another minute if he was forced to only watch this show.
He brought his knees up and tipped Matisse forward, wrapped his arms around him, and rolled them both.
"You're too much of a tease, Mat."
"Am I? And what are you gonna do about that?"
Matisse looked gorgeous lying on the deep red sheets with his hair like a golden fan around his face, flushed, and hard enough to drive nails. Josh planned to make him look even better, with lips swollen from kisses and eyes blown midnight dark. Sitting up, he pulled on the slender body until he had the delectable arse resting on his thighs. Matisse's legs splayed out, wide and wanton, and when Josh started to rock into him, the angle was good enough to make Matisse howl.
Watching Matisse abandon himself to pleasure tested Josh's control as much as the tight heat around his cock. Determined to make this last, he held on, moving slow and deep enough to drive Matisse insane, but keeping them both on the edge for as long as possible. He drifted his palms over the endless expanse of Matisse's legs and circled Matisse's hip bones with his thumbs. Matisse arched into each caress, as starved for touch as Josh was.
Slow didn't last long. Not with the way Matisse looked spread over his lap. Not with the way he sounded, moaning his pleasure. And anyway, hadn't he complained, just a little while earlier, about Matisse being a tease and drawing things out too much?
With a low growl, Josh let his passion off the leash. Found a matching fire in Matisse. They came together in heat and want, their climax like a starburst of white light, heady and consuming.
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DESPITE THE ACTIVITIESof the previous night, Josh woke with an impressive case of morning wood. And since he was wrapped around Matisse, the little tease noticed it, too. Noticed it, and wasn't shy to make use of it. Faster than Josh could comprehend, all their pillows were in a pile in the middle of the bed and Matisse was bent over them, arse in the air like the best possible invitation.
They didn't indulge in any of the lengthy foreplay they had enjoyed the night before. Matisse was aroused well past that, and Josh couldn't resist his breathy demands and hasty movements. He draped himself over Matisse's warm, soft back, found lube and condoms, and joined their bodies while he nibbled his way up Matisse's long neck to his still kiss-swollen lips.
Matisse's moans were incendiary. He curled over his stack of pillows, pushed his arse into every single one of Josh's thrusts, and begged with his whole body for more, harder, faster.
Until Josh gave in.
They collapsed in a tangled heap when they could move again, kissing lazily while hands roamed. They drifted off to sleep and woke to gusts of wind howling in the chimney and rain lashing the windows as if trying to break through.
"Thank God we're not out in this."
"We were out in it yesterday." Matisse yawned, and stretched in a way clearly designed to give Josh ideas.
"It was this bad?"
"Pretty much."
"Who taught you to handle a boat?"
"My dad. We've had a boat for as long as I can remember. First on the Clyde, then down here. Music and sailing, that's me. If I hadn't made a career out of music, I might have joined the Coast Guard or something."
The comment fit with the stories Matisse had told him the previous evening. Matisse Vervein was a contradiction of the best kind, in bed and out, and Josh was determined to make the most of the time they had together.
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MATISSE STOOD ON THEbeach below the lighthouse and looked out at the ocean. The previous day's storm had blown itself out and the waves rolled under a vast, cloudless sky, steady and serene. This was his sanctuary, the place he came to recharge, to hide or to celebrate—whatever the occasion demanded. Knowing what waited for him here made the madness that was his daily life more bearable. Every time he'd stood here, the immense, ever-shifting green had calmed him. Had soothed and grounded him.
Today his heart was heavy and even breathing in sync with the swell didn't help. He should have realised that bringing Josh here would be a mistake. That it would change how he saw him. Instead, he'd let Josh's grey, exhausted face and chattering teeth make the decision for him.
Until now, he'd only allowed family and his closest friends to visit his sanctuary. Even Marissa, who'd helped him buy the island in the first place, hadn't set foot on it yet. The members of his first band had all been here, but he'd not invited anyone he'd worked with since then. But he had brought Josh, and it hadn't bothered him at all. Coming here had felt right.
Now he ached, heart, mind and soul, at the thought that two nights and one day were all they'd ever have. The thought had crept up on him during the previous day, had thrown a shadow over their discussion and a blight on every touch. It had even invaded his rest, until he'd left his bed so he wouldn't disturb his sleeping guest.
Josh had found him in his studio at daybreak. He'd dragged him back to bed and had made love to him one final time. It hadn't been anything like the crazed need of the night after the charity gala, nor the fire-filled passion of the last two nights. Then, they'd let lust and want claim their bodies and had followed where arousal led. This morning's lovemaking had been deliberate and slow, Josh making use of everything he'd learned about Matisse. He'd paid attention to every single spot that could heighten Matisse's pleasure, had touched him in ways calculated to inflame until Matisse was a writhing, mewling wreck, mind as consumed by fire as his body had been. His climax had been earth-shattering. So much more than anything Matisse had ever experienced before.
And now it was over.
While Matisse watched the waves, Josh was inside making lunch. Once they'd eaten they would board the boat and start their trek back to London.
McKinnoch had called to tell Josh his suspect was being transferred to the Met, and Josh would be needed for the questioning.
