“Get off…?”
She smirked as she angled my dick where she wanted it. “Get off your dick, I mean.”
“Okay, but—”
She started pushing down onto me, and the words failed in my open mouth. I groaned as I filled her. She was wet and so fucking tight, and it felt like pure, sweet heaven being squeezed by her. If there was an actual heaven, I couldn’t imagine it being any better than this.
Maggie, horny, and taking control of me…
Sure, I could’ve bucked her off and seized control, even with my hands belted above my head.
But where was the fun in that?
Fuck that.
I just lay here, spread out on the bed, my bound arms limp above my head, as Maggie fucked me in an eager but semi-slow rhythm, her mouth open and sexy little sounds coming out, her hands planted on my chest, fingers curling into my skin, her nails digging deep into my pecs.
“Just don’t come too fast okay?” she said, gazing down at me.
“Uh-huh… fuck, you’re sexy.”
“Just wait… just wait a while, while I fuck you…”
“Yeah, babe.”
I did as she told me to, as the tension and the pressure built between us. Tingles moved up and down my spine. My balls tightened. My nipples fucking throbbed.
I could’ve easily come fast if that’s what she wanted, but my cock was in its happy place, so why rush? Normally, I might’ve been happy to fuck her fast and furious, so we could just do it again right afterwards.
I was greedy like that.
Usually, Maggie was, too.
But she was in no hurry right now.
My dick was definitely loving it, but the rest of me was getting restless, impatient to take over and fuck those husky little screams out of her. And the more I thought about that, the harder it was not to come.
“Can I come yet?” I asked her as she rode me faster, losing her rhythm as her own pleasure built.
“No, you can’t come yet.”
“Holy shit, Maggie.” I groaned, fucking suffering. “Don’t be cruel…”
“I’m not cruel. I’m incredibly kind. You feel what’s happening to your dick right now…?”
I laughed, fucking delirious with arousal and pleasure. More than that… I was happy. Like really fucking happy.
If this was my life?
For the rest of my life…?
I was gonna die one day a very happy man.
“I love you,” I told her, sincerely. “But please come on my dick before I die.”
A slow smile spread across Maggie’s face. Then she switched up her moves. Instead of the up-and-down thing she’d been doing pretty steadily, she started grinding back and forth a little with each thrust, working her body against mine exactly how she needed it. The smile faded and her breaths got raspier. Her nails clawed deeper into my chest.
“Don’t come,” she gasped. And then she came with a soft scream and a couple of jerks of her hips. She dropped her head as she moaned and her silky hair brushed my skin.
“Maggie… let me see your face.”
She lifted her head and her gray eyes met mine as she kept riding me, slowly and jerkily. She was still coming, still in ecstasy.
And fuck, I wanted my hands back. I wanted them on her face, on her tits and all up inside her.
“Babe. Babe, you gotta move…”
But I didn’t wait for her to move. I just rolled, taking her with me. I managed to loop my belted arms around her as she tumbled onto her side on the bed. I snapped my hips up, hammering into her a few times, my dick switching into autopilot mode.
Then I pulled out, and she caught my dick in her hands just as I came. She smoothed her hands up and down my shaft as I shot on her stomach with a groan. She rolled her palm over the head of my cock and pressed her body tight against mine. My come was smeared all over both of us.
We kissed and just lay like this for a long time. Kissing, breathing… hearts pounding. I closed my eyes and I could feel her pulse, beating against me.
Eventually, I found my voice. “I’m all sticky.”
“Me too.” I didn’t even have to open my eyes to know she was smiling.
“I’m lying in the wet spot. Is that love or what?”
“Hate to tell you. We’re both in the wet spot.”
I tugged halfheartedly at the belt that still bound my wrists behind her back. “I can’t get up. Nothing works.”
“Same here.”
“I’ve lost the feeling in my hands.”
She laughed. “Poor baby.”
Yup; feisty as fuck.
After the killer morning sex, we had breakfast in the hotel room, then showered together. Predictably, we ended up having more sex in the shower… steamy, slow sex.
Maybe it was because she’d unbelted my hands and they were now free to roam all over her hot, slippery-wet body, but I literally could not keep my hands off her.
I hiked her legs up around my hips and screwed her up against the wall… Then I washed her and dried her, too.
Then we stood at the his-and-her sinks and got ready for our day together, and you know what?
It was the best morning I’d ever had.
Ever.
Had plenty of mornings waking up in a pile of naked chicks with a hangover, and those were alright, too. For different reasons. Glad I’d experienced them, in a way.
But this?
I wouldn’t trade this for anything. Just hanging out with Maggie, listening to her talk about what she had to do today (I’d asked her), and how she felt about the big announcement at dinner last night (I’d also asked), and watching her get dressed. Just being close to her and doing stupid regular shit. Enjoying each other.
No drama or fighting.
Feeling all cozy with her in the hotel suite, with the fireplace on and the lights dimmed low as we gradually started our day. Soaking up the husky-soft sound of her voice and the feminine scents of her lotion and the girly stuff she put in her hair.
And all her little idiosyncrasies.
The way she laid her toothbrush and toothpaste perfectly parallel to one another and perpendicular to the edge of the counter.
The way she jiggled her tits into her bra cups and hiked them up—no idea how I’d missed that maneuver before.
The way she flattened her naturally-straight hair with a straightener and fussed over it until it was glossy-smooth.
The way she answered her phone, “Hey, sweet stuff,” when Katie called. I’d never heard that one before, but it was cute as shit. We were out in the living room and she was organizing shit in her purse when her phone rang; she even did this girly laugh, then gave me a dirty look, taking the phone into the bathroom when she realized I was listening.
Cute.
So cute, I was probably gonna have to fuck her again—asap.
Shitty fact: I was definitely gonna mess up her hair while I did it, and she was gonna be annoyed about it.
Too bad.
Shittier fact: I really didn’t have time to do it right now. Had to get to the venue.
Where the fuck was everybody, anyway?
I dropped onto the couch and checked my phone. It was a little earlier than I’d planned to head out, but fuck it. I was anxious to get going. So I sent a chat to the band.
Me: ready to go?
I texted Shady to let him know I was ready to leave.
Then Jesse responded to the chat.
Jesse: What time you going down?
Me: NOW
Jesse: What’s the rush??
Me: you need to learn the song, asshat
Jesse: Already know it.
Me: we need to rehearse
Jesse: Maybe YOU need to rehearse…
I considered calling him to tell him what an asshat he was more personally, but it felt good to see shit written out in black-and-white. Had a certain impact.
Me: just stop fingering your wife and move your ass
Jesse: OH SHIT. You didn’t.
<
br /> Jesse: I’m giving you one free pass on that one.
Jesse: But you’ve got a wife now and she is NOT off-limits for that shit.
Fuck me. Didn’t think about that.
No way was I listening to Jesse Fucking Mayes’ asshat comments about me fingering my wife, for the rest of my life.
This shit could not go both ways.
Which meant I was gonna have to be a little more of a gentleman towards Katie and his relationship with her in general.
Okay… a lot more of a gentleman.
Me: noted
Me: please stop making love to your wife and let’s go
Me: better?
Jesse: Marginally. Hard not to be an uberdouche all the time, huh?
Me: thank you for the constructive criticism
Jesse: I’m here to help.
I sent him an emoji of two dudes holding hands.
He sent me back a heart.
And a photo of my wife.
I stared at it, lifting the phone toward my face. Obviously taken at some party, it was a closeup of her face—and her perky tits, in a sparkly top that dipped low. Maggie’s tits weren’t large, but she definitely knew how to work what she had. She was looking at someone off-camera and had a saucy look on her face, and the whole thing was just begging for a caption like: sexy bitch I need to fuck.
I actually dug out my glasses and put them on. Where the shit did he get that photo?
I downloaded it, obviously. Definite keeper.
Then I noticed the slender arm slung around Maggie’s shoulders—and realized Jesse had cropped his wife out of the photo, just to fuck with me.
Asshat.
“Babe?” I called out. “You off the phone?”
“Yeah?”
“I’ve gotta run soon,” I told her while I answered Dylan. He’d popped into the chat; had to get him to stop fingering his woman next. “We need to do a little rehearsal at sound check.”
“Rehearsal?”
“Yeah. I’m adding a song into tonight’s set list.”
Maggie came out of the bathroom, putting in her earrings. “You’re changing the set list?”
“Yup.”
“Please tell me you’re keeping the encore the way it is, though. I love the progression of ‘Blackout,’ ‘Road Back Home’ and ‘To Hell & Back’ at the end of the show. It’s perfection.”
I grinned at the compliment. Call me a vain asshole, but I fucking loved it when Maggie complimented me, even indirectly. “Okay, babe. No changes there.”
“What are you changing?” She turned my notebook, which was sitting on a table, toward her, taking a peek.
“Uh, none of your business, Miss Nosy Manager Type.” I gave her a sharp look and went back to my phone.
She rolled her eyes. “So sorry, Mr. Rock Star.”
“And it’s not in there. Just come to the show and you’ll find out with everyone else.”
“Oh, yeah?” She slinked over to me and dropped into my lap, wrapping her arms around my shoulders, pressing her hot little bod up against me and playing with my hair. “No special privileges for the wife of the frontman, huh?”
“Nope.” I slid my hand down around her hip and cupped her ass cheek, giving it a squeeze. “None at all.”
“Huh. Maybe I’ll have to rethink this whole marriage thing, then…” She started to get up, but I yanked her tight against me, tossing my phone aside and using both hands to lock her ass in place.
“How about you stick around, I throw in some perks?”
“I’m listening…”
“Front row seats?”
“I prefer backstage.”
“Backstage pass?”
“Already have one.”
“Party with the band?”
“Pretty sure Brody can get me in.” She smiled prettily. “Or Jesse.”
“Fuck Jesse.” I kissed her, hard. “Personal tour of my bus after the show…?”
She rolled her eyes, but her lips were flushed from my kiss and her eyes were darkening. “How is that a perk?”
“I’ll let you touch my favorite pen.”
“Is that some bad euphemism?”
“It’s the one I write songs with.”
“Hmm.” She considered that for a while, smoothing her thumb over the short hair behind my ear. That slow touch, back and forth, sent shivers right down my spine and straight to my balls. I was getting hard, which was inconvenient, since I had no time to do anything about it. “Okay.”
“Really? That’s all it took? A pen?”
“Well… I’m pretty sure it’s still a euphemism.”
“It is. I don’t actually have a favorite pen.” As if to drive home that point, my rock-hard dick was now jabbing into her ass.
“See?” She wriggled her hips a bit, rubbing herself into me. “Because I’m your wife, I already knew that.”
I gazed at her in honest-to-God wonder. “We’re so made for each other.”
She smiled, eying my glasses. “You know, you’re definitely a bigger dork than the world takes you for.”
“Shh. Don’t tell anyone.” Then I kissed her for real, forcing her mouth open with mine and deep-throating her with my tongue.
“Jesus,” she said, when I let her up for air. “You’ve got the devil’s tongue, Zane Traynor…” I took that as another compliment, since she looked pretty damn flustered about it. Like horny-flustered. Her cheeks were even a little pink. “Can you fuck me with your little glasses on next time? You’ve never done that.”
I laughed. “Really?”
“Yeah. Maybe you can sit by the fire with a book like some hot coed, and I can be the naughty headmistress who slips out of her office, you know, to visit her sexy student in the library after hours…”
“Wow.”
“Or… maybe I’m just on my way back from cheerleading practice? And I notice my hot professor’s light is on, and I think, ‘Maybe he’d like some company…’”
“That’s elaborate, babe.”
“Not really.”
“Is this the shit you think about when we bang?”
She scrunched her eyebrows. “What do you think about when we have sex?”
“You,” I said, kissing her and nibbling at her full bottom lip. “Your pussy. It’s not complicated.”
She laughed her husky laugh, pulling back. “Well, I’ve never had either of those fantasies while we’re doing it, either.” She gazed at me pretty damn adoringly. “But what am I supposed to fantasize about when I’m already having sex with the sexiest man in the world?”
That was pure flattery, but somehow, I knew she meant it, too.
Still, I cocked an eyebrow at her. “You’re having sex with Blake Shelton?”
“What?”
“People magazine, babe. Sexiest Man Alive? I do actually read with these glasses, you know. They’re not just for your slutty coed fantasies.”
She laughed again. “Zane. Baby. Blake Shelton’s got nothing on you. Well… except the official title of Sexiest Man Alive. And Gwen Stefani.”
“I did once have this Gwen Stefani fantasy…”
She silenced me with a finger to my lips. “Don’t even.”
“You have an outfit for this cheerleader thing?”
“We can get one.”
“Hmm. I think I like the horny headmistress thing better. Come to think of it, I was a really, really bad student…”
“Okay, now you’re just getting me hot. Which means,” she said, sliding out of my lap and leaning over me, “I’m going to have to teach you what happens when you act up in my class.” Then she kissed me suggestively, biting my lip for emphasis.
Then she shoved me right down on my back and climbed on top.
“Holy shit,” I muttered, “you got into character fast…”
The grin had faded from her face and the horniness had taken over, and she dove right in. We made out like we hadn’t fucked in weeks, forget that we’d done it twice this morning.
Then
some asshole knocked on the door.
“Shiiiit,” I groaned. “That’ll be Shady. I’ve gotta go.”
“Okay.” She smiled down at me.
I groaned again and made a grab for her ass.
Then she slid off me and we both got up. “I’ll see you later,” she said sweetly.
But I didn’t budge. As I stood looking down into Maggie’s gray eyes, I actually found myself wishing I didn’t have a show to do tonight so I could hang out with a woman instead.
Huh. That was new.
I sighed and kissed her, squeezing her round little ass one last time. “You’re gonna be there early, right? Kiss me before I go onstage?”
“Of course.”
“Good.” I let her go and pulled on my leather vest. “See you tonight, Maggie May.” We kissed one last time, getting totally wrapped up in each other’s arms for way too long, then finally peeled ourselves apart again.
She gave me another smile. “Glasses.”
“Oh. Thanks.” I took them off, then waggled my tongue at her as I headed for the door.
“And you better let me touch that pen of yours,” she called after me. “Or I’m gonna spank you with my ruler!”
The door closed behind me and Shady didn’t even pretend not to hear that shit.
“Let’s go,” I said, deadpan.
“Sure, brother.”
But when he’d turned his back, I definitely grinned like some lovesick schoolboy.
After sound check, the band grabbed some food at a restaurant where we were eventually pretty swarmed by fans. Always happened when too many of us showed up in one place in broad daylight.
We signed some shit, then had to leave out the back door.
As we all piled into the waiting cars, Jesse got in with me and shooed everyone else into the other ones. He even asked Shady to follow in a cab.
“What’s up?” I asked him, as he settled in next to me.
“Just wanted to talk to you.”
“Cool.”
“You know,” he said, “I’ve gotta bust your balls and all that. Because… I don’t know. It’s like, the law of nature between us or something?”
Dirty Like Zane: A Dirty Rockstar Romance (Dirty, Book 6) Page 31
