Pure Iron

by Bargo, Holly

  “Mick,” she pleaded. “Please.”

  He wiped his forearm across his lower face and moved up her body, surging as the music surged. Sonia’s hands immediately reached for his shoulders, rubbed over the hard muscle, slid around to his back, twined with the hair at the nape of his neck. She sighed as the weight of his body pressed her into the mattress. She spread her legs further, wrapped them around his hips to lock her ankles behind him.

  He rubbed his erection against the wet folds. She moaned and undulated beneath him. He brought his mouth to hers, letting Sonia taste her own musk on his lips and tongue. Her tongue plunged into his mouth even as his cock penetrated her body. They ate at each other as their hips thrust forward and retreated and slammed together again. They found a harsh rhythm that had both of them grunting with exertion.

  Absolutely nothing felt so good as this. Somewhere in the recesses of his lust addled mind, Mick understood that the extraordinary pleasure was due to the fulfillment of making love to his wife rather than the empty, superficial pleasure of nailing groupies.

  He emptied himself into her with a long, drawn out groan of incredible satisfaction. The hot wash of his seed incited another orgasm. Sonia’s body clamped down, her velvet muscles milking every drop from him.

  They lay there. Mick’s heavy, sweating weight pressed Sonia into the bed while they gulped air. The music died away, only to restart with a slow, sensuous beat and the low auditory glide of a tenor saxophone.

  “One of these days, I’m going to be on top,” Sonia groused, but her smile belied the sour words.

  Mick chuckled and buried his face in her neck and licked at her perspiring skin. Her hands reached down to cup his buttocks, trace patterns on the soft, pale skin there. Mick levered himself up on his elbows. She pulled herself up a little, just enough to bring her mouth to his flat, male nipple. She blew gently across the pink flesh and it obligingly pebbled for her. Then she licked it, pressed her lips to it, teased the small tip with the tip of her tongue.

  Mick groaned and felt his cock harden. It was still enveloped by her body. He rocked his hips, using the pleasure of sliding flesh against flesh to swell his growing erection. Then he wedged his arms beneath her and rolled them over without disengaging their bodies.

  “Oh!” she exclaimed and gingerly pushed herself upward. The change in angle and the pressure of her body settled over his pushed him deeply into her as the saxophone’s long, drawn out wail punctuated the music.

  “Oh!” she exclaimed again as she adjusted to this new feeling of being filled from below. Bracing her hands against his chest, she raised her hips and slowly lowered them. Her eyes fluttered closed in pleasure. She repeated the lift and drop of her hips, adding a little twist of her hips on the drop.

  “Oh!” she moaned. Her back bent as she brought her head to his chest to play with his body there.

  Mick hissed at the touch of her lips, tongue, and teeth upon the sensitive bits of his anatomy. He settled his hands on the flare of her hips and held her as he bucked beneath her, thrusting upward. Sonia’s breath caught as she felt the strength in his arms that took control and moved her body in such a way that she was soon pleading with him to let her cum. He moved one hand, reached between their bodies, found her clit, and pinched it lightly. The extra stimulation cracked the barrier to ecstasy and another orgasm shattered it. Cymbals crashed, followed by a fast and furious drum solo.

  Mick drove himself up into her body, but it wasn’t enough. He lifted her off him and she cried out in protest. He rose, settled her on all fours, and maneuvered behind her. With a firm hand, he gently pushed between her shoulders until her breasts pressed into the bed and her ass presented itself in blatant invitation. Placing his legs between hers, he widened her stance. He gripped his the base of his cock, held the throbbing appendage steady as he aligned it with her opening. He rubbed the mushroom tip of it against the blooming slit just to hear her moan. He returned the moan when he pushed into her body, watching himself sink into her.

  God, he’d never seen anything more erotic than his cock being swallowed by Sonia’s yielding flesh.

  He pulled back until only the tip remained embedded. Then pushed back in. He established a slow, steady rhythm that had her begging for harder, faster, deeper as he prolonged the pleasure, drew it out until she trembled uncontrollably beneath him. So he leaned forward, bending himself over her, covering her body with his and forsaking the sight of their coupling. A surprisingly intricate melody flowed from Kristof’s guitar.

  Sonia could not explain it, but she felt protected and cherished as Mick covered her body with his own, surrounding her as he penetrated and filled her. He braced his body on one arm. His other hand reached below to stroke the undersides of her breasts and her belly, then slid along her body to flick her clitoris, rub it, and make it scream for release.

  Jack’s fingers danced over the keyboard, a ripple of music that felt to the ears as the preliminary contractions of Sonia’s inner walls felt to Mick’s cock as they rippled around him. He knew she was headed toward yet another orgasm. He increased his pace, the easy friction of his flesh against hers fraying his control. Her wail of pleasure and her body straining against his in an effort to swallow him whole broke his control and he plunged into her body, pounding at her until his balls drew up tightly against his body and the tingle of impending climax exploded into a whole-body sizzle.

  He withdrew, their combined fluids leaking from her body and dripping down her thighs. She sank bonelessly, flat on the bed. Mick lay beside her and ran a hand down the length of her back and over her butt, long strokes like he was petting a cat.

  “Well, that took the edge off,” he quipped breathlessly.

  Equally breathless, Sonia laughed. Eventually, she said, “I need a shower.”

  “Don’t,” he said.

  She raised an eyebrow in inquiry.

  “I like knowing that you smell of our passion. I want them to smell me on you.”

  “They know we just ravished each other,” she replied with a sleepy, satiated smile. “They don’t need the reek of sex to figure that out.”

  “Kristof and Jack look at you. They need to understand that you’re mine and I don’t share.”

  “Apparently, you have shared.”

  “Not you, Sonia. Never you. You’re mine.”

  “Good to know, because I don’t share either. You’re mine as much as I’m yours.”

  “God, yes,” he agreed, nuzzling her.

  She giggled and rolled over. The light breeze wafted through the open window and over her sweaty, sticky skin. It felt refreshing. Mick reached over to run his fingertips across her chest, ribs, and belly.

  She turned her head to face him. His eyes glittered as he continued to caress her. He watched with masculine satisfaction as her languor tightened into renewed desire. Her hand stealthily moved to stroke him, tracing the ridges and valleys of his muscles beneath his skin to tangle softly in his pubic hair and fondle the treasure rising from that nest.

  Every muscle felt utterly drained of strength and energy as Sonia dragged her butt to the shower. Her skin, on the other hand, was overly sensitive. Goose pimples rose from the faintest whiff of air over her body, the soothing warmth of the shower’ spray, the slightly rough texture of a washcloth sliding through soapy lather as she removed the sticky, fragrant evidence of marital passion from her skin. She flinched as she washed between her legs, for the delicate skin there was extra sensitive and still inclined to launch her into orgasmic aftershocks.

  When she emerged from the bathroom, Mick had already rejoined the band. He cradled his guitar to his naked chest and inhaled with deep satisfaction the scents of sweat and sex rising off his skin. A small, satisfied smile curled his lips because he knew his bandmates envied him, wanted their own women ready-to-hand. Jack no longer even attempted to conceal the bulge in his pants. Mick wondered if he’d just whip it out and masturbate in front of them just to give himself a little release. Hell, if Jack
did that, he’d be sorely tempted to haul Sonia onto his lap and fuck her right there in front of them to show those horny bastards that she belonged to him. Of course, that might incite the boys to do more than watch.

  He dismissed the thought. Sonia wasn’t ready for ménage. And he didn’t want to share.

  They finished the lyrics to that last song and decided to quit for the day.

  “Is Sonia cooking tonight?” Angelo asked as he cleaned and packed the clarinet, flute, and saxophone.

  As though having overheard his question, Sonia’s voice called from inside the cottage, “Mick, light the grill, please.”

  “You might want to burn off the sex smell while you’re playing with fire,” Jack suggested acidly. He rubbed his hand over his swollen crotch. “Damn it, I need a woman.”

  “There’s usually some sort of party going on down-beach,” Mick replied as he turned on the propane and ignited the grill. He set the temperature. “I’m sure you can find something to shag there.”

  Angelo shuddered dramatically and said, “I’ve been by that place. Looks like frat house. No telling where those girls have been or with how many.”

  “You guys suddenly have standards?” Mick asked somewhat incredulously. He returned to his seat. “It’s not like the groupies you entertain are all that pure and innocent.”

  Angelo leveled a hard look at his old friend and said, “Seeing what you have with Sonia makes me realize what each of us is missing. So, yeah, as of this week, I have standards.”

  Mick pursed his lips, thinking. “If you’re that desperate, head for the Blue Urchin. It’s an upscale nightclub and the girls there are less likely to be carrying some loathsome disease than you’d find elsewhere.”

  “Sounds like the voice of experience,” Jack said dryly.

  “Yeah,” Mick admitted. A summer’s solitude on the beach sometimes got lonely.

  “Sounds like a plan,” Davis said quietly.

  “Just keep it clean, guys,” Mick asked.

  “Clean?” Jack asked.

  “No roofies or anything like that.”

  “I’m insulted, Mick. I don’t need to force a woman. None of us does.”

  “When did you grow a conscience?” Kristof asked.

  Mick said nothing, but his glance toward the cottage was sufficient answer.

  The band finished packing their instruments and carried them out to the SUV they had rented. Sonia walked out to the back patio bearing a platter loaded with steaks. Mick rose from the chair and said, “What do you need me to do, babe?”

  “I’ve got these,” she said with a smile and handed him the platter. She adjusted the temperature and opened the grill. She deftly moved each thick steak from platter to grill, the meat hitting the metal with a satisfying sizzle. “There’s a salad in the refrigerator and baked potatoes in the oven. Would you mind setting out plates and such?”

  He leaned over to press a chaste kiss on her cheek and left to fetch plates, bowls, glasses, and silverware. Kristof, returning from the car, watched them, a look of deep envy on his face. He had to admit, the stuff Mick had produced in so short a time was fantastic and he’d never seen Mick so happy. It was more than just the ephemeral high of a concert; this was something bone deep. He wanted that for himself.

  He wanted Sonia for himself.

  Soon the tantalizing fragrance of grilled meat had all six of them salivating. The men practically drooled and slavered when she piled the steaks onto a clean platter and covered them with foil to rest.

  “Damn it, woman, we’re hungry,” Davis growled.

  She smacked his hand as he reached for the platter. He snatched his hand back, eyes wide with affront. “Wait,” she commanded and ordered him to get everyone something to drink. With a sullen grunt, he obeyed.

  The designated resting period passed in hungry anticipation. At Sonia’s quiet command of release, the five men surged for the food. Minutes later the patio was filled with moans and groans of appreciation for the expertly cooked steaks.

  Sonia looked at the remaining half of the huge steak on her plate and said, “I can’t finish this.”

  Mick grinned and swapped plates. The afternoon’s exercise had left him ravenous. Kristof glared at him.

  “Get your own woman,” he said and popped a forkful of tender meat into his mouth.

  Sonia took pity on the man’s hungry look and offered, “Kris, would you like some more salad?”

  The bass guitarist’s expression turned from disgruntled to horrified. Expressions on the other men ranged from amused to sympathetic.

  “No, of course, you don’t want more salad,” she murmured and shook her head at her own lack of understanding. She rose and carried Mick’s empty plate into the kitchen, returning momentarily with a large serving bowl of mixed berries and smaller dessert bowls. She set them down and said, “I didn’t have time to fix a proper desert, but the berries are really good.”

  Jack set down his empty plate and rose to serve himself. He leaned over to place a friendly kiss on her cheek.

  “Thanks, Sonia. This is wonderful.”

  She turned pink with pleasure at the compliment. Just like the evening before, Mick herded the other men into the kitchen to wash dishes and tidy up. She reclined on a chaise lounge and looked up into the darkening sky. Wisps of cirrus clouds showed as darker blue smears against the firmament. The pale twinkle of stars peeked through the pinks and purples streaked across the horizon. She could hear the roar of the incoming tide a safe distance from the cottage.

  “Mick, I’m going to take a walk,” she called out. She slipped off her sandals and walked toward the water until the foam bubbled over her toes. She absorbed the salt smell, the cool breeze, the soothing din of nature as she walked. The water soon rose over her ankles and she adjusted her path to accommodate the incoming tide.

  Her thoughts raced as she walked. What an absolutely crazy week. Just one week. She shook her head in disbelief at herself, her impulsive actions.

  “I never do stuff like that,” she said aloud to herself. “What has gotten into me?”

  Well, Mick had gotten into her. Literally and figuratively, she thought with a giggle.

  “Hey! Sonia!” she heard him call from behind as he jogged to catch up with her.

  She stopped and looked back. He halted and drew her against his body, her back to his front.

  “You shouldn’t walk alone. It’s dangerous.”

  She looked up and down the beach and laughed lightly. “There’s no one out here but us.” What she did not say was that she had walked alone on the beach for a week and no one had objected, nothing bad had happened. He had not even noticed her.

  “It’s not safe,” he said simply and took her hand. “I’ll walk with you.”

  “You can’t walk with me when you’re on tour,” she pointed out reasonably.

  “I don’t want you taking long walks like this in Las Vegas anyway. Too many weirdos.”

  She laughed again and looked up at him, watched the breeze toss his hair. The setting sun cast shadows over the planes of his face, the prominent cheekbones, the sharp jaw. The stubble of his beard darkened his face further.

  “I can’t live cloistered, Mick,” she said. He opened his mouth to protest, but she cut him off. “I know you just want to protect me—which I appreciate, really—but I’m a big girl. An adult. There are decisions I need to make and will make for myself.”

  His hand tightened on hers. “Sonia, if anything happens to you …”

  “Then we’ll deal with it. Until then, I cannot and will not live my life in fear of what might happen. After all, I’ll worry about you when you’re on tour.”

  “We’ve got round-the-clock security. What’s to worry about?”

  “That round-the-clock security doesn’t keep out the groupies,” she pointed out.

  “I don’t want them,” he said. “I want you. Just you.”

  “But they don’t know that or they won’t believe it or they just won’t
care. I may be naïve, but I’m not stupid.” She knew that he wasn’t chaste when he married her. A week ago. Was it really only a week ago? So much had happened! “And just because you aren’t interested in having casual sex with lots of eager fans doesn’t mean that Kris, Jack, Angelo, and Davis aren’t.”

  He stopped walking, turned her around, and settled his hands on her shoulders. “I know those guys as well as I know myself, Sonia. Angelo and Davis already regard you as a sister; they won’t do anything to hurt you by throwing temptation at me. Jack understands that you’re off-limits to him and that I’m off-limits to other women. He won’t sabotage us either.”

  He paused to take a breath and continued slowly, reaching for the right words and not sure whether he succeeded. “But Kris wants you. I see the way he looks at you, the way his eyes follow you. I’m hoping that he’ll have enough respect for the band not to do something stupid that will break us apart.”

  “And what do you think he will do?”

  “I think he’ll try to sleep with you.”

  It was Sonia’s turn to take a deep breath and search for the right words: “I won’t break my vows, Mick. And if Kris were to do something as awful as to force me, then the band is well rid of him.”

  Mick closed his eyes against the very idea that Kris would rape anyone, much less his wife. He knew Kris liked it rough; hell, they all did occasionally. And there was no shortage of willing women. Maybe he and the others could make sure that Kris was kept well-occupied.

  He felt Sonia’s arms wrap around him, pulling him into her embrace. Once they were pressed together, she reached up to cup the back of his head and pull his face to hers.

  “Trust in me, Mick. Trust in us,” she said before rising to stand on tip-toe to kiss him.

  He opened his mouth over hers, licked her lips to ask for entry. She complied and he tasted her, the lingering sweetness of berries, and the astringency of dry red wine. As had become automatic, his cock swelled, lengthened, and rose for action, but he did kept the kiss simple and surprisingly intimate. Standing on the beach with water swirling about their ankles, they kissed. It was somehow deeper and more meaningful than the hot passion they had (frequently) indulged in over the past week.