Lust's Rhythm (Heart of Fame Book 10)

by Lexxie Couper

She wriggled down his torso a little, grinning at him. “Sure.”

  Without another word, she climbed off him.

  “Hey.” He strained against the scarves again, pouting with exquisitely sexy discontent. “That’s not—”

  She straddled him once more, knees beside his ears, and took his massive erection in her mouth.

  “Whoa, baby,” he burst out, the words part groan, part laugh, part strangled breath.

  Chloe sucked her way down his entire length until her lips encountered the swollen globes of his scrotum. She flattened her tongue to his venous girth and then, slowly, lowered her pussy to his mouth as she sucked her way back up to his cock’s head.

  He groaned into her sex, the vibration a wicked accompaniment to his lapping tongue.

  Releasing his cock with a pop, she licked at his balls and then captured the skin of his inner right thigh with her lips. Sucked it hard.

  He hissed against her pussy and rammed his hips upwards in a carnal request for more.

  She obliged, once more travelling down the length of his cock with her mouth before sucking her way up to its crown, and then bruising his inner thigh with a hungry love bite.

  He continued to fuck her with his tongue the whole time, his groans, curling toes, and trembling legs telling her just as clearly as his throbbing, engorged dick how much he enjoyed the torture she put him through.

  When she felt his stomach begin to hitch, when his balls drew closer to his body, she lifted her head and climbed off him and the bed.

  Strutted away without a backward look.

  “Fuck a bloody duck, woman,” he rasped as she made her way from the room. “That’s cruel. That’s…”

  She exited the bedroom, crossed the suite to its fully stocked bar and pulled open the small fridge.

  Icy air kissed at her flushed flesh, pinched her nipples harder, as she reached in and removed what she’d come for.

  “Oi!”

  She grinned at his shout.

  “Get your sexy fucking arse back in here, Mrs. Rabbit.”

  Closing the bar fridge, she returned to the bedroom, carrying the glass of ice cubes she’d retrieved.

  Jed’s gaze found it as she drew closer to the side of the bed. His chest rose and fell as he watched her lean against the post to which his right ankle was bound.

  She arched an eyebrow. Plucked one cube from the glass and popped it into her mouth.

  Crunched it with her teeth.

  His Adam’s apple jerked up and down his throat.

  Mouth full of crushed ice, Chloe climbed back onto the bed. She kneeled at his side, slid a hand over his stomach, up to his chest. Played with his nipple for a moment, his hitching breaths the most exquisite soundtrack she’d ever heard, and then smoothed her palm down to his cock and wrapped her fingers around its girth.

  His eyes rolled back into his head with pleasure before closing. A low groan tore at his chest.

  She smiled, and then—while his eyes were still closed—bent at the waist and captured his left nipple with her lips, sucking its tiny point into her ice-filled mouth as she continued to pump his erection.

  “Holy fuck,” he burst out, hips bucking.

  Swallowing the melting ice, she sat up and wiped at her lips.

  A wobbly breath fell from Jed and, shaking his head, he opened his eyes. “Again.”

  Tight heat shot through Chloe. Lips curling, she plucked another cube from the glass and slipped it into her mouth.

  Jed let out a moan of delighted surrender and closed his eyes once more.

  Chloe crunched on the ice for a second. She saw Jed stiffen, preparing himself for the icy assault on his nipple.

  Smiling, she drew her loose grip up his cock and lowered her mouth to it. Slid the cool, wet seal of her lips over its bulbous head. And then plunged down his length.

  He let out a shout, hips slamming upward.

  She withdrew to the distended rim of his head, kneading his balls with one hand as she teased his nipple with the other, and then sucked his entire organ back into the icy well of her mouth.

  “Fuck, Chloe…” he ground out. “Holy…holy…fuck…”

  She tormented him that way with ice cube after ice cube. When the few she’d brought into the bedroom were gone, she retrieved more.

  Jed strained at the scarves every time she slid a cube past her lips, his eyes burning with lust and pleasure and want.

  Occasionally she teased his nipples with the ice before licking the cold beads of water from each one. Occasionally she captured his mouth with hers and fed him the cooling chunks of ice with her tongue.

  Once, she told him to open his mouth and stick out his tongue.

  He did so without question. She placed a small cube on it, told him not to crush it, and then, holding his gaze, positioned herself over his face, pussy aligned to his lips.

  He groaned as she lowered herself to his mouth.

  She whimpered as he almost made her come with his icy tongue and the melting cube.

  The third time she climbed off the bed, he called after her.

  “Chloe?”

  She stopped at the bedroom door and looked at him over her shoulder. “Jed?”

  “Don’t bring back ice this time.”

  “What do you want me to bring back?”

  Hunger flared in his eyes. “A condom.”

  She arched an eyebrow.

  He lifted his own. “It’s that, or I come all over your face.”

  “Condom it is,” she answered, even as her heart leapt into her throat.

  Without waiting for his response, she turned and crossed the threshold.

  It took her less than a minute to find her handbag in the suite’s living room and retrieve the condom she always carried with her in her purse.

  Jed might have one as well, but she was always prepared.

  She knew enough women in the music world, both from the music conservatorium and on the concert-playing circuit, who had fallen pregnant after a one-night stand. She wasn’t going to be one of them.

  One-night stand? Do you really think that’s what this is? You may have thought you were just going to fuck Jed out of your system when you saw him at the party, but you know this is so much more now.

  Chloe swallowed, studying the condom packet in her fingers.

  She did know it was more. She felt that in her very soul. But what did Jed feel? With all their playful talk of marriage, if he seriously did ask her to marry him tonight, she’d say yes. Without hesitation. It was insane, crazy, probably foolish, but that’s the way it was. He stirred…something in her, not just the sexual response she’d expected. Something, she suspected, profound. But did he feel the same? Did he want more after tonight? And what would her father do if he discovered—

  “Fuck,” she muttered, shaking her head and rolling her eyes. “Way to kill the mood, dickhead.”

  Spinning on her heel, she strode back to the bedroom.

  Jed lay stretched spread-eagle on the bed, scarves still circling his wrists and ankles.

  “I’ve been thinking about our wedding,” he said as she crossed to the bed.

  Her tummy clenched. “You have?”

  He nodded, his gaze fixed on her as she pressed one knee onto the mattress at his side. “How do you feel about cheeseburgers for the reception?”

  Lifting the condom packet to her mouth, she caught the corner and tore at it.

  “I think,” she said, holding his stare as she removed the pre-lubricated, neon-purple, ridged-and-studded prophylactic from the foil square, “chicken might be better.”

  His chest shook as she tossed the empty packet over her shoulder. “Better for the lactose-intolerant guests?”

  She nodded, positioning herself on her knees astride his thighs. “And we have to think of the guests, after all, don’t we.”

  “We do,” he rasped as she moved her hands to his jutting, twitching cock and covered its head with the purple condom. “They’re the ones giving us the awesome pres
…”

  The rest of presents turned into a raw moan as Chloe sheathed his entire length in slick silicone.

  Lifting her stare to his face, she met his eyes.

  His nostrils flared. “I’m not going to last long, Chloe.”

  His confession flooded her core with liquid heat and her soul with warm joy.

  “’Cause you’re an old bastard with staying issues?” she joked, her voice husky. Oh God, she felt like she was burning up, and he hadn’t even entered her yet.

  How could it be this…this…amazing? Why did she feel like they were connecting in a way far more significant than physically?

  “’Cause I lost myself to you, irrevocably and irretrievably, four years ago,” he answered.

  Chloe swallowed. “Will you marry me, Jed Brody?” she whispered.

  He smiled. “Fuckin’ oath I will, babe,” he whispered back, a heartbeat before she aligned his cock to her sex and impaled herself on his length.

  Chapter 5

  She came two thrusts before he did.

  Jed had no hope of controlling himself.

  The very second her tight, exquisite muscles enveloped his length, the battle was over. Done. Pleasure unlike any he’d ever experienced rushed through him, overwhelmed him.

  He tried to stave off the inevitable. Tried to hold it at bay. He thought of his upcoming meeting with his financial advisor for a wobbly second. Sang his old school song in his head for another one.

  When he realized he had no hope of control, he surrendered to it and to Chloe and to the perfection of their joining. Thrust up into her as she rode his length. Ached to feel her hips, her butt, her waist beneath his palms even as he reveled in the binds she’d tied around his wrists.

  He watched pleasure etch her face, his thrusts and heart growing wilder at the sight. Her moans and pants and whimpers fed his desire. Her contracting, squeezing muscles propelled him faster to the brink of release.

  When she bent forward and claimed his lips with her own, everything ceased to exist except her and their pleasure.

  The base of his spine began to tingle. His toes curled.

  And as the apology began to form in his pleasure-drugged brain, as the promise to last longer followed, Chloe clawed at his chest, threw back her head and came, crying his name as her sex pulsed and squeezed his dick.

  Two thrusts later, as she continued to orgasm, Jed erupted.

  His seed pumped into the condom, hot, thick spurts that felt as if they were coming from the very centre of his existence.

  “God, yes, Jed!” Her tight walls constricted around him in increasing throbs. “I can feel you coming. I can feel you fucking coming.”

  The sheer joy and rapture in her cry sent Jed over the edge and he let out his own cry, the sound almost a roar as it tore from his chest.

  A lifetime later, or maybe only a few moments, Chloe slumped on top of him, her pussy still enveloping his cock, her breasts crushing to his chest.

  “Holy crap,” she mumbled against the side of his neck. “That was incredible.”

  He couldn’t help but laugh a little, although not enough to cause his cock to slip free of the exquisite sheath of her sex. “You’re surprised?”

  She levered herself up off his chest just slightly, to show him her grin. “Nope. Surprised I lasted the distance without having a heart attack though. I’m not as fit as you. I don’t need to jump around the stage screaming at the top of my lungs for a living.”

  Jed raised an eyebrow. “Jump around the stage screaming? Is that what I do?”

  “At the top of your lungs. Don’t forget that bit.”

  “That bit’s pretty important.”

  She grinned, wriggling on top of him even as she tightened her inner walls on his spent and slowly shrinking length. They’d have to move soon so he could remove the condom.

  Soon. But not now. He loved being connected to her too much. Loved their playful banter too much.

  Loved everything about the moment.

  Was it possible he loved her already, as well? Did instant love actually exist?

  “All I have to do,” she went on, tracing the spider web tattooed over his heart with her fingertips, “is sit in a chair and wave my arm back and forth a few times.”

  “You’re right. You do have it easy.” He gave her a contemplative frown. “Think it’s too late for me to change careers? Become a wussy, lazy cello player like you?”

  “Cellist, thank you very much,” she corrected. “And yeah, I think your rep as a bad boy rock god is firmly cemented in the public’s opinion.”

  Bad boy rep…

  Jed drew a slow breath. A hot knot formed in his gut.

  Was the reputation that had made him millions going to destroy something he wanted even more?

  “Tell me about the ink?”

  Her soft voice dragged him away from the unsettling thought. “Untie me first, let me take care of the condom, and I will.”

  “Okay.”

  She shifted, making sure the condom didn’t go with her when she climbed off him.

  A few seconds later, he felt the tension on his wrists release. A tingling rush of blood filled his hands, followed by the same sensation as she undid the scarves on his ankles.

  Letting out a low chuckle, he sat up and rubbed at his wrists.

  “Does it hurt?”

  He shook his head at her question. “Nope. Not at all.”

  She smiled. “Good. So you’ll let me do it again on our wedding night?”

  He leant forward and captured her lips in a quick kiss before shuffling off the bed. “Hell, yeah.”

  It took him barely a minute to dispose of the used condom and clean himself up. He heard her moving about the bedroom, heard the distinctive hiss of a bottle of soda being opened.

  Jed allowed a moment to study himself in the mirror.

  The story of his tattoos had never been shared. They’d been asked about often in interviews and by fans. He’d always stayed silent about them. The secrecy contributed to his reputation. There were fan theories out there, and—according to his agent, some seriously twisted and erotic fan fiction about them as well. He never corrected any of them. As his agent had pointed out, it added to the whole “Jed Brody, bad boy rock star” package.

  That he was about to share the significance behind the ink with Chloe stirred something profound deep inside him.

  Love? Are you seriously in love with her? Not just lust, but love?

  Letting out a shaky sigh, he exited the bathroom.

  Chloe sat cross-legged in the middle of the bed, waiting for him. She’d wrapped one of the scarves around her head in what looked like a futile effort to control the untamed curtain of copper-auburn curls that was her hair. Another scarf hung around her neck, fixed in a loose Windsor knot. The other two were nowhere to be seen.

  He crossed to the bed, crawled onto it, and flattened her to her back with a hungry kiss that turned into wild guffaws into her mouth as she attacked his ribs with tickling fingers.

  “Okay, okay,” he laughed, rolling onto the bed beside her. “Fog, fog!”

  Giggling, she stretched out on her side next to him and played with his feet with her toes, fingers tracing the webs of the redback spider tat once again. “Clever man. I am an expert tickler.”

  He grinned back at her. “I’m defenseless against tickling.”

  “Oh, good to know. Now…” She brushed a finger over his heart, right where the distinct red shape on the spider’s abdomen was inked into his flesh. “Tell. This one first.”

  Jed’s throat grew thick. Tight. “My dad abandoned me and my mum when I was very young. They were both pretty wild back in the day. I have very vague memories of insane parties taking place in our house, of the cops bursting into them. I remember Dad hitting Mum more than once. She took it all, no matter the broken bones and shattered cheeks. Half the time back then, I think she was too drunk to know he was hurting her.”

  “Jesus, Jed,” Chloe whispered, stunned h
orror in her eyes. Her fingers on the spider tattoo had grown still. “I’m sorry. I didn’t—”

  He shook his head, his smile genuine. “It’s all good. My wife should know the tragic backstory of the man she marries, yes?”

  He expected her to laugh, to point out they really weren’t going to get married. Instead, she nodded and pressed her palm to his chest, directly over his heart. “Yes, she should. Go on.”

  A heavy pressure wrapped his chest at her words. A feeling of intangible happiness rolled though him.

  “He left one day to go to work,” he continued. “He was a security guard at our local shopping centre—and never came back. Mum cleaned up her act, got a job, and did everything she could to raise me right. To apologise for the life she’d given me when Dad was still around.”

  Chloe studied him. “And the spider represents the poison he’d injected into that life?”

  Jed nodded, another warm swell of happiness flowing through him at the fact she understood. “He came back when I was almost eighteen. I came home from school one day to find him in our kitchen, off his face drunk, and laying into Mum with his fists. Her shirt was torn open, her skirt ripped. She had scratches on her throat, her chest. Her lip was bloody and swollen. I picked up the closest thing on the table and beat the shit out of him with it. It wasn’t until he fell to the ground that I realized I’d been hitting him with a rolling pin.”

  “Did you kill him?”

  The memory of that afternoon washed over Jed, bringing with it the familiar mix of hate, guilt, and relief. “No. But we never saw him again after that. As far as I know, he died in a gutter somewhere a few years ago.”

  “Jesus,” Chloe whispered again.

  He gave her a wry smile, sliding her palm to the tattoo of the ornate cross on his side. “Which brings me to this one,” he said, watching her gaze move over it. “After Dad left us the first time, Mum found religion. Big time. She moved me to a Christian school. I was in the church choir, and then a Christian rock band. That’s where I was discovered. A record-label scout heard me singing at a school talent contest when I was seventeen. Believe it or not, there’s actually an album out there in the world with me singing all about the grace and beauty of God.”

  Chloe’s eyebrows shot up. “There’s what? How is it I don’t know anything about this?”