Staged (Exodus End World Tour, #3)

by Cunning, Olivia

  Her original intention was to tease him for as long as he could stand it, but now she just wanted to make him come. To give him the intense pleasure he’d given her earlier. Her touch became bolder, caressing his balls, stroking his shaft. Her mouth took him deeper, suction tightening, tongue dancing against his most sensitive skin.

  He groaned, his fingers tightening into a fist in her hair. The tug in her scalp each time she lowered her head seemed to tug at her pussy as well. She shifted uncomfortably, the emptiness between her thighs intensely unbearable. She couldn’t wait. Fuck the seat belt.

  With a groan of impatience, she yanked open the latch, jerked her pants clean off, and sat on his lap, reaching between their bodies to direct his thick cock inside her. She rode him hard and fast, clutching the seatback in front of her. God, how he filled her. She couldn’t get enough.

  “Fuck, you feel good, baby,” Steve said. His seat belt clicked open, and he shifted forward so she could sink deeper onto his lap. “Take what you want. Lose control.”

  She had lost control, and while normally even the idea of losing control scared her, this lack of control was entirely rewarding. He was so hard, so thick . . . Their friction produced so much heat . . . Her excitement built, strengthening into a tight coil within her. Just let go, she coached herself. Let go. But the more she tried, the further release spiraled away. She was starting to fatigue.

  Steve shifted against her back. “Need a hand, sweetheart?” he murmured close to her ear. He kissed her neck.

  “A hand?”

  His hand slid against her inner thigh, and then a fingertip rubbed up against her clit. Her pussy clenched, and she almost shot off his lap. She sank back down, not wanting him to ever fall free of her body. Not ever.

  “Or maybe just a finger.” His teeth sank into her shoulder, and he expertly rubbed her to explosive orgasm within seconds. Her pussy clenched hard around his cock, spasms rippling from her center outward until every cell in her body was awakened by her release.

  “Don’t stop,” she pleaded, the up and down motion of her hips becoming jerky and less rhythmic as she gave him control over her release and trusted him to take her higher. Higher. Higher. Oh dear God, the man did not know how to disappoint.

  “Not a chance,” he murmured against her shoulder. “We’re about to discover if you’re multi-orgasmic.”

  She would have laughed if she could have done anything besides moan in pleasure and attempt to keep fucking him while her climax continued to rip through her. She knew she couldn’t come more than once. She’d tried it on herself and had never been able to reach a second orgasm. But then she’d never realized she could keep coming long after the first ripples of release tore through her. When at last he’d wrung every shred of pleasure from her weak body, she settled back onto his lap to catch her breath. He was still massaging her clit, and the sensitive flesh began to protest from over-stimulation. She caught Steve’s wrist to hold his hand still.

  “Enough,” she panted.

  “Not nearly enough.”

  “I can’t take any more.”

  “You’ll take everything I give you and like it.” He cupped her breast and pinched her nipple through her shirt.

  She gasped in surprise as her pussy tightened around his cock with excitement and renewed need.

  “Your pussy already knows it,” he said, the command in his tone making her shudder. “Now I just have to make the rest of you a believer.”

  He wrapped an arm tight around her lower belly, grabbed the seat in front of them with his free hand, and in an incredible feat of strength, stood up with her still impaled by his cock. He pressed her front up against the back of the seat and shifted her legs so that her feet found the seat behind them. Once she had her balance, he shifted his hold to her hips, and began to thrust his hips.

  He was rough as he pounded into her. She’d never had a man fuck her so hard. She never knew she could like it so much.

  “Do you like to be fucked, sweet Roux?”

  She caught his relentless rhythm, his brutal tempo, and rocked back to meet him. He fucked like he drummed—hard, fast, and rhythmic, putting his entire body into every beat.

  “Answer me,” he demanded, his fingers pressing deep into her hips.

  Had he asked her something? His deep voice echoed through her thoughts: Do you like to be fucked?

  “Yes!”

  “Say it.”

  “I like to be fucked.” Her eyes shot open as her pussy tightened on the brink of release. “I’m gonna come!”

  “Yeah, you are. And I’m going to fill your hot cunt to the brim with my cum.”

  Her eyes widened at his crass words and widened further as her womb tightened and she reached orgasm a second time. This one felt different. Deeper. Less like ripples and more like intense spasms. She cried out, her body going stiff, trapped between the seat and his body. She would have sagged and slid to the floor if Steve hadn’t had a firm grip on her hips.

  “I knew you had it in you.”

  He patted her ass as if they were in the end zone and she’d just scored a touchdown.

  “Now it’s my turn.”

  When he pulled out, she cried out in protest. She wasn’t ready to part from him. Was he going to jack off onto her back? But he’d promised to fill her with his cum. She wanted that. She wanted him. She wanted all of him.

  He dragged her limp body from between the seats and settled her onto her back on the sofa that ran along one side of the aisle. He peeled her shirt and bra from her body and shed his clothes before settling on top of her. The warmth of his bare skin against hers made her heart pound. Oh, this was nice. He felt so good nestled between her thighs. She wrapped both arms around his neck and stared up into his gorgeous brown eyes. He kissed her gently, reached between them and found her opening. He eased into her slowly, never breaking eye contact.

  He was surprisingly tender as he took her with slow, churning strokes, peppering gentle kisses on her lips, her eyelids, her neck, and caressing her body as if she were a priceless work of art. Even as the heat between them rose and their skin became slick with sweat, he made her feel treasured and more than a little overwhelmed by the emotions swirling through her. His emotions were close to the surface as well. She could see the turbulence mixed with passion in his eyes. His raw vulnerability made her want to hold him and never let go. This was so much more than she’d bargained for. A gift, she realized, as he lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed her palm and wrist. How was it possible to love a man she barely knew? Not that she could tell him her feelings. He’d think she was stupid or insincere or wanted something as trivial as his fortune. But she only wanted one thing from him. She moved her free hand to the center of his chest and relished the feel of his heart pounding hard beneath her fingertips. His heart. That was what she wanted. His true heart. She knew he wouldn’t give it lightly. Not after it had been so thoroughly shattered by his ex-wife. But Roux vowed to never hurt him. Just love him and dare to believe he could someday love her in return.

  He stroked her hair from her face and kissed her lips, and then he lifted his head to stare into her eyes again. “It’s been so long since I made love to a woman, I forgot how good it could be,” he said.

  Her Steve-is-perfection fantasy bubble burst, and she jabbed him in the chest with one finger. “Liar.”

  “Not a lie,” he said, capturing both her hands in his and pressing them to the sofa on either side of her head. “I fornicate, I fuck, I screw, but I don’t make love. Not like this.”

  Now she felt bad. She blinked back tears and nodded, at a loss for words but wanting him to know that she understood this encounter was special to them both. She shouldn’t have belittled his sentiment. He kissed a drop of moisture from the corner of her eye and grinned down at her.

  “Time for the grand finale.”

  But she never wanted this to end. What if this was their last time together? What if it never felt this good again? What if her rational mind co
nvinced her emotional one that all these feelings were just a product of physical attraction? What if, what if, what if . . . Her doubts scattered when Steve rose up on his knees, lifting her hips by supporting her lower back with one hand and placing the other over her mound. His thumb brushed her clit, and her entire body jerked in response.

  “Ever come with a man?” he asked, the familiar cockiness in his tone a relief after all the overwhelming emotions he’d been stirring within her.

  “Like having simultaneous orgasms?”

  “Exactly like that.”

  She quirked an eyebrow. “Obviously not.”

  “Well, you’re about to,” he said.

  Doubtful. She’d already managed two explosive orgasms. He didn’t really think she was capable of a third, did he? Before she could even form a snarky comeback, he began to thrust. The shift in position had the head of his cock rubbing hard against her front wall. She gasped in surprise as an unfamiliar pleasurable sensation rocked through her pussy. That might not have been enough to send her flying on its own, but then his thumb began to massage her clit and within seconds she was thrashing in torment as he brought her to another peak.

  “Yes,” she cried out. “Yes!”

  She shattered, and he followed her over the edge. His hands shifted to her hips, pulling her hard onto his cock as he pushed into her.

  “Oh God,” he groaned, his entire body quaking. He pulled out a couple of inches, but pressed balls deep again, still shuddering. “Mmm.” He pulled out all the way, and she felt a spurt of cum against her opening before he thrust into her one last time.

  With a whoosh of breath, he shifted his legs out behind himself again and collapsed on top of her, squeezing her so tightly she could scarcely breathe. But she didn’t mind. She hugged him even closer.

  They lay intertwined, breathing raggedly, for a long while.

  Roux drifted in and out of sleep, not sure how much time had passed when the intercom crackled and startled her to full alertness.

  Jordan announced, “We’ll be landing in about an hour. The persistent fasten-seat-belt sign is your punishment for making us late, Aimes. We have clear skies all around, and there’s a magnificent sunset forming off the right wing.”

  Steve lifted his body off Roux’s and peered out the window over the back of the sofa. “She’s right,” he said. “You need to see this. It’s spectacular.”

  She stared up at him, her heart pounding at his gorgeousness. “It sure is.”

  He grinned when he recognized that she was staring at him and not at anything as mundane as a sunset. “So we’ve accomplished multiple orgasms and simultaneous orgasms this afternoon,” he said, settling over top of her with his weight supported on his elbows. “What should we tackle next?”

  He stroked her hair from her face and kissed her brow. She melted into the sofa and released a contented sigh.

  She had no idea what came next, but whatever it was, she was confident that he could deliver and that she’d enjoy both the journey and the ride.

  Sixteen

  It was nearly dark when the plane made its final approach toward the landing strip on the small, tree-covered island—an island that Dare claimed was shaped like a guitar, but which Steve thought looked more like a dick and balls. The main portion was rounded at the bottom and roughly oval-shaped, with a long peninsula that extended far out into the sea. There were even a few rocks jutting up from the ocean at the tip of the peninsula, which could be construed as drops of jizz, but Steve had discovered long ago that Dare didn’t think owning a dick-shaped island was funny in the least. It was a guitar, damn it. So Logan and Steve joked about Dick Island behind Dare’s back, but never to his face.

  “What does the island look like to you?” Steve asked Roux, who was sitting next to the window and gazing outside with a flush of excitement on her fair face. The woman was an absolute goddess.

  “A tropical paradise.”

  “I mean its shape. Does it remind you of anything?”

  She nibbled her lip and then said, “A baby rattle.”

  “What?” He stretched over her to point. “The long part is obviously a dick and the round part is the balls.”

  “Those would be some huge balls and a disappointingly thin dick,” she countered.

  True. He was glad his junk wasn’t shaped like that, but still . . . “It doesn’t look anything like a guitar, right?”

  She tilted her head, giving the rapidly enlarging island another look. “About as much as it looks like a dick and balls. It’s a baby rattle.”

  “Do babies even play with rattles anymore?”

  “Or it could be a spoon.” She looked at him with wide eyes, as if seeking approval.

  He still thought it looked like a dick and balls, but said, “Yeah, I can see that.” He stroked a silky lock of her hair, realizing that he had an unquenchable need to touch her hair as much as possible as well as to touch her lovely face and the rest of her. God, the woman was deep under his skin. He leaned in for a kiss, but the plane touched down and they bumped foreheads.

  “I don’t know about you,” he said, rubbing the spot on his head with one hand and the one on hers with the other, “but I’m ready to get the fuck off this plane for a couple of days.”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” she said. “I had a pretty good time on this plane.”

  “Just pretty good?”

  “Best time of my life.”

  She gifted him with that sexy little smile of hers. As usual, it made his balls tighten.

  “But somehow, I think we’re going to top it.”

  He squeezed her hand. “Count on it.”, He’d usually heap on the island fun by getting plastered and high and then dance naked on the beach until he passed out, but with exception of naked beach time, that scenario held absolutely no appeal to him when he was with Roux. He couldn’t decide if the sudden shift in his idea of fun was a good thing or a bad thing. He had his notorious rock star reputation to uphold. But not here with her. Here with her he could be anything he wanted to be. Even lame.

  There were two main dwellings on the island and a caretaker’s cabin. They left the air crew of two to enjoy their weekend at the larger, more luxurious house near the landing strip that ran the length of the peninsula. He and Roux climbed aboard one of the sports quads to make their way to the smaller, more secluded beach house that could be reached only by driving through the jungle or by boat. The small headlights cut through the darkness to guide them on a path that was difficult to navigate even in the daytime. The underbrush had a way of overgrowing and blocking the narrow road within days of it being cleared. Steve guessed that the day’s notice he’d given to Dare hadn’t been enough time to alert the island’s caretaker to cut back the brush.

  “Are there monkeys in this jungle?” Roux asked excitedly as she peered into the dark under-canopy around them.

  Normally Steve would have the vehicle at full throttle and be barreling through the underbrush in pursuit of Logan, who was a total adrenaline junkie. But he took it slow, concerned for Roux’s safety. He’d never realized jungle underbrush could put him in a romantic mood, or maybe it was the feel of her hands on his waist and her warmth at his back that had him considering their surroundings as something other than a nuisance blocking his way to the beach. The eerie call of some night creature piqued his curiosity rather than making him want to get out of the foliage as soon as possible.

  “Monkeys? I don’t think so,” he said. “Birds maybe. We can explore in the daylight and see what we can find.”

  “I thought you’d been here before.”

  “I have,” he said, suddenly feeling embarrassed by his total disregard for the potentially amazing wildlife on the island. All he’d ever cared about before was that the bar was well stocked and that no one complained about how loudly he blared the music on the beach. “I just stuck to the beach. Never ventured too far into the trees.” At least not at a rate of speed that he’d have been able to see anything but a furry blu
r.

  Roux slapped herself hard, and he jumped.

  “Well, there are definitely mosquitoes on this island. Do I need to worry about malaria?” she asked, slapping herself a second time.

  “I hope not. I’ll go a little faster so the thirsty buggers can’t catch us. Hold on.”

  Her arms tightened around his waist, and he decided his going fast with her was the best decision he’d ever made—and he wasn’t thinking about the speed of the ATV.

  A few minutes later, he pulled to a halt under the beach house—between its sturdy stilts—and a motion sensor switched on the security lights.

  “Oh my,” Roux said, peering up at the underside of the tiny cottage. “What a charming little house.”

  He wasn’t sure how she could tell from this vantage, but it truly was cute and cozy. Painted blue with white trim, it had a nautical theme inside and out.

  “This cottage was original to the island when Dare bought it,” Steve said, sliding off the ATV. “He added the landing strip and the ridiculously expensive mansion-type house at the base of the dick after he bought it.”

  “It’s not a dick, it’s a spoon handle,” Roux corrected with a grin.

  He sighed and shook his head. “You’re too sweet for your own good, Red.” But he was okay with that, because her nature drew out qualities in him that he’d forgotten he possessed, and she was wonderful to be around. He couldn’t imagine a single day in his future without her in it.

  She slapped her neck. “Apparently the mosquitoes agree.”

  “Let’s hurry inside before your sweetness attracts a swarm.”

  Feeling unabashedly chivalrous, he scooped her off the quad and into his arms. He carried her to the open-backed wooden stairs that led to the deck that faced the ocean. The warm onshore breeze stirred her hair against his face and was a welcome relief after the cloying heat of the jungle. It was also an effective mosquito deterrent. Roux wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned into him, breathing deeply.

  “I figured I’d have to get throwing-up-in-a-bucket drunk to experience this for myself,” she said.