by Selena Kitt
“Easy,” he murmured, pulling gently. “Let it go now. Let it go.”
She trembled, moaning, her pussy still spasming around the thing. When he let it drop to the floor between her spread thighs, she was so empty she cried out with the feeling. And he knew it. He used the remote to let the leads go slack, taking her weight in his arms, unlocking her, setting her free.
She was like a noodle in his arms, her knees too loose to walk, and he carried her easily to the bed, kissing her deeply down onto it, the denim of his jeans rough against her soft, sensitive skin, the zipper biting into her hip, his cock so hard she could barely believe it.
“Please.” Her hand found him, rubbing over the seam of his jeans. She didn’t just want him, she needed him. She had to have him inside of her, filling her. Nothing else would do. He let her fumble, uncoordinated, with the button and the zipper, let her free his cock against the soft flesh of her thigh.
“Easy,” he urged her again, his breath hot on her ear. “Do you want that cock?”
He knew she did—he knew. Why was he torturing her? She nodded against his neck, moving her hips up, trying to show him with her body what she wanted.
“Tell me.” His hand slid through her hair, pulling her head back so he could rake his teeth over her neck, nibbling at her collarbone. “Tell me what you want.”
“Oh please.” She squirmed. “Fuck me. I want your hard cock inside me… husband.”
She added the last to drive her point home and it worked. Blue groaned softly, spreading her thighs with his, his cock finding her without any guidance at all. She was soaking wet from her orgasm and he slid in easily enough. Petra gripped his broad shoulders and looked up at him, poised above her, eyes closed, his lower lip drawn between his teeth, clearly savoring the sensation of being inside of her for the first time.
She wondered at it, too, his flesh so hard, yet so different from that fake thing he’d made her hold onto. This is what she’d wanted all along. He’d made her crave it. Blue moved slowly inside of her, drawing back and sliding in, letting them both savor the feeling.
“I’ve waited so long, Pet.” His voice was hoarse in her ear.
“Me too,” she whispered, feeling tears stinging her eyes, clinging to him as his hips began to pump faster, his cock buried deep now. She wrapped her limbs around him, caressing the back of his neck as they moved together, the soft prickle of his beard rubbing against her cheek.
“Kiss me,” she begged, turning her face up to him, feeling his hot breath. His mouth claimed hers, his tongue thrusting in the same hot rhythm as his cock, the wet sound of their bodies slapping together filling the little room. Petra wrapped her legs around his waist, digging her heels into his lower back, driving him onward, wanting more, more, more.
Blue moaned into her mouth, breaking the kiss with a low growl, gritting his teeth as she thrust up to meet him, making soft noises in her throat.
“Don’t stop,” she begged, panting against his broad neck, feathering kisses at the hollow of his throat. “Oh please don’t stop. Make me come all over your cock.”
He cried out, as if in pain, his hips pounding her against the bed, her pussy drawing him in deeper with the first spasms of her climax. She couldn’t hold back, feeling the hot clench and release of her belly against his. She cried out, her toes curling, heels digging in, nails raking over his shoulder blades.
“Oh Pet,” he moaned, giving one last, hard, deep thrust. “Oh god, Pet, my sweet Pet…”
And he was filling her, completely now, each hot pulse of his cock making her pussy swell with the overflow of his cum, his mouth finding hers, sucking hard at her tongue, making her moan. She cradled his head against her breasts as he cried out, again and again, his cock thrust so deep it hurt—and she didn’t care. She could have impaled herself on it all night.
She wanted to. Was looking quite forward to it.
“Mine.” He collapsed beside her on the bed and she found a way to fit her body to his. The room wasn’t cold anymore—it was hot. Her skin was moist, their bellies slick together as he pulled her into the circle of his arms. “Oh Pet, I couldn’t wait. I didn’t want to do it this way, but seeing you standing there, looking like that. You bring out the animal in me.”
She turned her face up to his, shaking her head. “I don’t understand.”
“Do you know how hard it’s been? Months, I’ve waited, wanting you. I couldn’t touch you. I was afraid I would… well… do this.” He chuckled, waving his hand around the room.
“Why?” She couldn’t keep the tears out of her voice.
“Oh god.” He bent his head to her breasts, letting her stroke his hair. “I don’t know how to tell you.”
“Just say,” she whispered, kissing the top of his head. “Tell me the story.”
And he did, a long tale about a pretty little blond girl from Russia whose parents weren’t killed in a factory fire after all, but defected, reluctantly leaving their child with a relative who would follow soon after.
“Sascha,” she gasped, interrupting his story, vaguely remembering her aunt only briefly in the time before the orphanage. She’d only been there a week, two, before her aunt had been taken away, her parents lost in the house fire, everything in her life crumbling around her. Blue nodded against her chest and she tightened her arms around him. “Go on.”
The little girl’s mother and father made it to America, but the little girl was left behind. They couldn’t go back—and they knew no one in Belarus to bring her to them. The tried to find her, but it was years before they tracked her down, and by then, her father had died of a heart attack.
“Papa.” Petra felt her eyes filling with tears. Was this story real? Could it be true?
“Your mother sent me for you.” He kissed her cheeks as the tears fell. “Your name is Tatiana. Tatiana Ribya.”
He paused, letting that sink in.
“My… mother?” The woman who had cooked and cleaned for her, had cared for her, laughed with her, since the day she moved in with Blue. She sobbed against his chest. Her heart filled to bursting. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“That’s a longer story.” Blue sighed. “And it’s all my fault.”
She couldn’t believe her ears. She wasn’t who she thought she was. Her mother was alive! And now he was telling her that their marriage hadn’t been exactly legal because… well, because he was married already.
“I forgot about it,” he confessed.
She gaped at him. “What?”
“It was the early nineties.” He shrugged, looking sheepish. “I was doing a lot of drugs.”
The woman had come after him when his marriage to Petra had been announced in the tabloids, he told her, not wanting money—but wanting him back. Wanting to be his wife.
“Over my dead body,” Petra hissed.
Blue’s arms tightened around her and he grinned. “That won’t be necessary. I took care of it.”
“How?”
He cleared his throat. “I sort of kept her captive.”
“What?”
“Well, it’s what she wanted,” he explained quickly. “We used to play these games together. She was my…” He waved his hand around the room again, indicating all the BDSM paraphernalia.
“Pet?” she offered quietly.
“No. You’re my Pet.” He frowned, the lines in his forehead deepening. “She was a groupie. She wanted to belong to me. In every way possible. She was very… unstable. She still is.”
“Did you have sex with her, here, while she was your captive in this room?”
“No.” He looked at her, horrified. “I told her I was testing her. In the end, I had her sign the divorce papers as the ultimate test.”
She tried to absorb his words, the facts of what he had done, the puzzle pieces all falling into place. It explained why he never touched her, why he was so secretive, why he refused to allow her into this room.
“Did you marry her in Chicago?” she asked.
He
chuckled. “Smart girl.”
“So the divorce is final now?” She lifted her head off his chest to meet his eyes.
“Yes, and she’s been released,” he assured her. “I had Max take her somewhere she can get help. And she’ll never want for anything else again. I made sure of that.” He shrugged. “It was a small price to pay to keep you from being deported.”
“Tell me something.” There was so much going through her mind, so much information, she couldn’t contain it all, but for some reason, her heart was focused on just one thing. “Did you marry me just so I could be an American citizen?”
“I came to your country to find you for your mother.” Blue’s hand moved behind her neck, pulling her closer. “I brought you home because I wanted to make you mine.”
His kiss took her breath away, long and deep and full of everything he’d been holding back for months. She found herself lost in his arms, their hearts beating together in a wild race.
“I am yours, Blue,” she breathed as they parted. There were so many questions, but none of them mattered, not then. “I love you.”
“I love you too, Pet.” He touched her nose with his, closing his eyes and breathing her in. And just when she thought he couldn’t surprise her any more, he opened his eyes and asked, “Will you marry me? Again? I promise this one will be good.”
“Oh Blue, you silly man.” She wrapped her arms around her rock star husband, finally understanding why he’d married her after all. “It’s already good.”
The End
About the Author
Selena Kitt is a NEW YORK TIMES bestselling and award-winning author of erotic and romance fiction. She is one of the highest selling erotic writers in the business with over a million books sold!
Her writing embodies everything from the spicy to the scandalous, but watch out-this kitty also has sharp claws and her stories often include intriguing edges and twists that take readers to new, thought-provoking depths.
When she’s not pawing away at her keyboard, Selena runs an innovative publishing company (excessica.com) and bookstore (excitica.com) and two erotica/romance promotion companies (excitesteam.com and excitespice.com)
Her books EcoErotica (2009), The Real Mother Goose (2010) and Heidi and the Kaiser (2011) were all Epic Award Finalists. Her only gay male romance, Second Chance, won the Epic Award in Erotica in 2011. Her story, Connections, was one of the runners-up for the 2006 Rauxa Prize, given annually to an erotic short story of “exceptional literary quality.”
Her book, Babysitting the Baumgartners, is being made into an adult film by Adam & Eve, starring Ryan Driller, Anikka Albrite, Sara Luvv and A.J. Applegate.
She can be reached on her website at www.selenakitt.com
Selena loves hearing from readers!
~| Books | Newsletter | Facebook | Twitter | Blog |~
Get ALL FIVE of Selena Kitt’s FREE READS
by joining her mailing list!
Want the HOTTEST reads around?
Just ADD SPICE!
GET FIVE (5) FREE READS JUST FOR JOINING!
ROCKSTAR - His Fertile Groupie by Candy Quinn
His Fertile Groupie by Candy Quinn
Ally couldn’t believe her luck. After months of following The Buzz around on tour, dreaming of the sexy-as-sin singer, he’d finally noticed her. But more than that, he’d invited her to a special gig, on a private island in the Caribbean.
Only eighteen, she thought she’d experienced all of the pain in the world, and she’d found purpose in their music. But more than that, she spent her nights lusting about their front man. Flynt Slader.
That gorgeous man with the kohl rimmed eyes and the soul that spoke to her. His piercing blue gaze stared into the deepest parts of her. She swore all of his lyrics were written about her life, and she knew they could heal one another’s broken hearts.
She’d just been getting out of a bad relationship when she first heard The Buzz come on the radio, with their hit song, and she listened to it on repeat.
She’d even dropped out of college to follow him around on tour. Every night she styled her bottle-blonde hair into a wild mess of curls and she hoped her dark eyes and full lips and tiny bra tops would entice him. Finally, one night, it did, and she was invited backstage.
That was when he invited her to his private concert, on an island in the tropical Caribbean. He’d told her it was a fundraiser, just a small show for a select few very special fans.
He even shelled out for a private jet for her.
But when she stepped off the luxurious jet, dressed in her nicest and sluttiest black dress with her suitcase in hand, she wasn’t expecting what she saw as she was driven towards her hotel.
Everything seemed so rustic and quaint, as if she’d gone back in time a hundred years. Even the fine manor that she pulled up in front of, with its colonial styling and large support beams out front, reminded her more of an old historical museum rather than the lavish hotel of the rich and famous.
Yet there he was, Flynt Slader, sat outside with his guitar in his lap, strumming idly as he rocked back and forth on the porch swing.
She couldn’t believe her eyes. He was dressed better than he did for his shows, in a nice pair of jeans and a black vest atop a white linen button down. He looked up as she arrived, sweeping his hand through his black hair, making it spike up a bit more.
“Hey, Ally,” he said, and she nearly fainted that he’d remembered her name. She inconspicuously pushed up her cleavage, though her push up bra did most of the work. She stepped towards him, her long, slender legs moving gracefully in her high heels.
She was almost over joyed, too excited to exist, and she couldn’t help that she went to him faster than she should have, acting like a little girl getting a puppy.
“Oh my God,” she said, looking up over the old building. “Is this really where I’m staying?”
“Yeah that’s right,” he said with a smile her way, that uneven expression so charming on his face. He looked like such a bad boy in every way. So handsome and dashing, a devious looking black goatee, and looks that could kill. Even if he wasn’t a musician, he could probably get away with murder on that devilish smile alone.
“We both are,” he remarked, strumming upon that guitar idly, producing such a hypnotic melody as he lowered his dark-rimmed eyes down to the instrument.
“Oh my God,” she repeated, this time louder and with more emphasis. Every bit of control she had was quickly slipping away as she closed the distance between them. She smelled of vanilla up close, her cleavage absolutely scandalous as she stared at him.
“I can’t even believe it,” she added on with a full scale blush, her tanned skin turning pink beneath her cheeks.
He looked back up at her, though not without stopping at her luscious breasts to stare a while.
“I like to come here to relax, get myself back together after a tour,” he said simply, in that dark voice of his that produced such beautiful lyrical sounds. “And a man can’t be expected to relax with a fine piece of ass around, now can he?” he remarked bluntly, looking back to his instrument and trying a few more chords.
Ally was such a smitten fan girl around him, so excited that he was checking her out that she barely comprehended his words. When they finally sank in, though, she blushed towards the ground, taking a step backwards and towards the house.
“Oh, yea, totally! I’m so sorry,” she said, her luggage resting against her firm leg. “Totally didn’t mean to interrupt your music, it’s just, I’m your biggest fan and had to, like, thank you for getting me this spot!”
He didn’t seem to pay her much mind, just playing some beautiful notes, practicing little pieces of what she no doubt thought would eventually become new masterpieces of his. Until finally he looked back at her in that scandalous outfit.
“Just leave your things out here,” he instructed her. “Your place is upstairs, right next to the big one. Mine. You can go up there, freshen up. Left a few treats in there for you
, to help get you in the spirits before this evening,” he stated bluntly, though an offering of anything from him was something she couldn’t possibly refuse.
Immediately she set down her luggage, backing towards the door another foot or so.
“Oh my God,” she repeated, breathlessly. Right next to his? There was no restraining the thrill that gave her, blue eyes widening with such excitement!
“Okay! This evening, right, of course!” she said, though she had little idea what was in store for her. What plans he truly had for his willingly little groupie. But she could dream.
