I hold my cock and guide it into her pussy, entering her in one firm thrust. She hisses and jerks her body towards the headboard, but I immobilise her with my weight. I can get really big when I’m aroused, and petite women sometimes experience a bit of pain while taking my whole length, but with enough time for the foreplay it’s never been any issue. With Eavan, something is not as it should be.
She wrinkles her forehead, her lower lip quivering, and droplets of sweat adorning her cleavage. Her fingers dig into my back as her thighs press against my hips.
“What is it, baby?” I ask and sweep a few wet wisps of her hair away from her face.
She winces and turns her face to the side, panting.
Fuck. Something is wrong, but I can’t think rationally.
Her hot tight pussy is clenched around my cock, stripping me of control. I’m on the brink.
“Breathe, Eavan.”
She nods at me, her palm stroking my cheek like a silent consent, as I move my hips against hers. A wave of delirious heat surges through me and I’m falling into the dark chasm of my desire. Pushing at her thighs, I open her legs wider for me and go deeper. She whimpers and trembles beneath me. It’s wrong, but I can’t stop. She’s too tempting, tight to the point where every thrust sends bliss down my body.
I don’t know what it is about her. It’s dark as though she’s calling to my primal instincts, awaking my most elemental needs. She makes me a ravenous hunger. Nothing more.
I put her calves on my shoulders, close her mouth with mine then stop moving for a moment. Our gazes meet. Hers is as dark as my lust. She puts her palms on my butt and pushes down, squeezing, so I fuck her hard, kissing her whimpers. Our bodies rock as one in this primal dance, touching hell and heaven, pain and pleasure.
Eavan bites my lower lip, her nails tearing through my back and she trembles violently. She screams her satisfaction as the rhythmic contractions of her inner walls around my cock push me over the edge.
I pound into her, wrenching in every wave of my ecstasy, rising towards the silver unity with the universe.
I’m blind and deaf then I breathe heavily. A fragile body beneath me squirms and I roll on my back, pulling that precious form into my arms.
Eavan groans as her chest rests against mine and my cock slips out of her. A warm sticky sensation spreads across my groin. I jerk my hand down and touch the liquid on my cock and thighs then take a closer look at my fingers. They’re covered in blood.
“Are you on your period?” I ask gently.
“No,” Eavan murmurs.
A realisation blasts in my head. “Are you a virgin?”
“I still was about fifteen minutes ago.”
“That’s...”
“I’m sorry.” She raises her head from my chest and looks at me.
“No, don’t be. That’s fucking amazing. It’s just... I should have been gentler with you.”
“It was really good.”
“Intense?” A flutter goes through my chest. I know I screwed. This was my job to be mature, slow and patient, but the truth is everything with Eavan is untamed. “Too intense?”
“Wild.”
“Painful?”
“Loved it, every second of it.”
I sweep wet tendrils of her hair clinging to her cheeks away from her face and inhale the smell of her sweat, relief rolling over me. “Do you want to have a shower?”
“Yes.”
I raise my upper body as her arms and legs wrap around me and I carry her like a child to the bathroom. Her lips search for mine and we kiss as I turn on the hot water in the shower cabin. My dick grows hard again. I step under the rain of pleasant heat with Eavan clinging to me.
Chapter 7
Eavan
He wasn’t very careful. In fact, he lost control entirely. We should talk about it, but the truth is I don’t really care. There is no past and no future, just this beautiful present and our bodies burning with a primal hunger. I don’t think. I just feel. I want to feel the whole of him, bath in our desire, and fuck until forgetfulness. I want to fuck raw, fuck fast, fuck forever. I want him to come inside me and I want to see his pleasure.
“Why a crow?” I ask him.
His insane eyes blink a few times and he rolls them as he plants me against the tiling, pulls away from me and cups my face in both his hands. “What?”
“The crow tattooed on your back. Why?”
His lips brush against mine then go down, touching my chin, grazing, caressing.
I chuckle. “I asked you a question.”
I’m hyperaware of his hardness touching my tummy, of the desire sharpening his face, but the tattoo on his back intrigues me. It’s a crow with outspread wings, a work of true art, gothic and mysterious.
Seafra’s palm runs up and down my outer thigh. “I can’t focus on any conversation.” His lips capture mine and demand, explore as his hand slides between my thighs.
I avert my face and catch a rapid breath. The shower cabin is filled with clouds of steam, enthralling us into a magical realm. The heat and the murmur of water create one powerful mix, weakening yet igniting wildness inside me. I notice tiny details-droplets on Seafra’s skin, veins on his arms, more ink on his chest. He is slim, but his body consists of pure muscle, absolute perfection.
For one desperate moment, I feel ugly compared to him.
I’ve never paid attention to my scars. I couldn’t afford that. But now, a beautiful man is standing in front of me, watching me and I want my scars to disappear. Then I kill all the doubts. I can’t afford to have them either.
I can afford to have an interesting conversation for an instant.
“Tell me,” I whisper. “Why a crow?”
“Crows symbolise magic and mystery.” He wipes water away from his face and shakes his head.
“I didn’t know about this.”
“And death.”
“That’s creepy.”
He chuckles. “Why a moth?”
“What?”
He kisses my forehead. “Like two souls brought back from the afterlife, brought back to be together.”
“I don’t understand. Your song?”
Seafra
“My life. From now on.” I grip her waist and lift her, slamming her on the green tiling then press my chest against hers. Our lips meet again. I can’t focus on talking. I know we need to talk, but I missed her so much that I can only focus on touching her, absorbing her and blending with her.
Eavan wraps her thighs around my waist and our kiss doesn’t break, but deepens, our mouths moving frantically then she turns her face to the side, catching a desperate breath.
My glance slides down to the bottom of the shower cabin. The delicate redness of her virginal blood is tinting the water at my feet in thin streaks. Something primal stirs inside me, crude like jagged mountain peaks, wild. I have just claimed her.
I took her innocence and made her mine. She belongs to me. Like olden times.
My heartbeat accelerates as I hold my cock and drive it into her again, kissing her groan of pain.
“Good?” I rasp.
“Good,” she gasps.
I hook her under the arms and fuck her, watching her unearthly face, indulging myself in her pain and pleasure. My thrusts are slow, but I go deeper and deeper. Eavan spreads her folded legs and surrenders to me entirely so I carry her at a steady pace then faster, harder until she rests her forehead against mine.
“I need,” she pleads, her voice laced with torment.
“I know, baby,” I say.
She needs to come so I clutch her outer thigh and pound into her, making her body rock against the tiling. She comes for me on my cock, trembling, moaning, crying then I come for her.
I enclose her in my arms until we steady our breaths, then I step out of the shower cabin, grab the towel and throw it on her back. The stream of water marks my way as I carry her.
We fuck again in bed. She’s on her stomach and I’m on top of her. It’s rough, fas
t, our greed for each other like a dry river meandering in a desert, drinking rain, gathering water, turning into a devastating force. I bunch Eavan’s wrists and pin her hands over her head, our bodies slapping against one another.
We fuck to the point of total exhaustion then lie on the bed, enclosed in the cloud of our dreamy languor.
“Why the symbol of death?” she murmurs, her head resting on my chest, her breasts against my stomach.
“Death is intriguing.”
“Do you want to die?”
“No, I want to find out what awaits people there. I don’t know; it’s interesting.”
“That’s creepy.”
“What is intriguing to you?”
“Castles with ghosts. I want my own castle with a ghost.”
“You see, you’re creepier than me.”
I run my palm up and down her back, the scars uneven against my skin. The tattoos belong to me; the scars belong to her, but they’re so much mine too. I want to ask her about them but Eavan drops off into oblivion, snoring lightly, resting on her back so I grab my phone and take a few photos of her. She mumbles something in her dream as I bury her in my embrace and drift off to sleep.
My last thought is that I want to wake up beside her, take her for a meal, and fuck her again. Then she’ll attend my concert and after, we’ll go to Coyote’s parents’ house. We’ll snuggle and talk, get to know each other better. I will cook for her and she will sit in the chair, smiling at me.
Somebody’s hand shaking my arm tears me out of the blackness of my sleep.
“Wake up,” a male’s voice growls into my ear.
Uneasiness courses through me like an arrow. I lift my eyelids and my glance meets Coyote’s.
“What the fuck?” I growl.
“We have a concert, remember?”
“Eavan,” I say. “Eavan.”
“There is nobody here,” Coyote says and pulls my arm up. “Have you slaughtered a pig in your bed? Man, there is something wrong with you.”
“Where is she?”
“There is nobody here.”
“She was here.”
“Get up,” Coyote roars. “Tania wants to kill us all.”
I jump off the bed and slide into my jeans, my eyes travelling to the bed sheet sprinkled with blood.
Coyote slaps my arm. “Hurry.”
“I have to find her,” I mumble.
“There is nobody here.”
I pull forward, but Coyote obstructs my way, his glance cold, sending a silent warning.
“Compose yourself, man,” he says. “You look like you’re crazy.”
“Get out of my way.” I shove him to the side, then run out of the room and leave the house.
Clouds of vapour leave my mouth as I run towards the flower shop, my naked feet scratched and pierced by the tiny stones covering the pavement, but I don’t feel the pain. I feel overwhelmed by rage.
Chapter 8
Seafra
She’s vanished like a ghost. Again. I’ve been looking for her the whole night and Tania had to cancel the concert.
At 3.30 am, Coyote, Hale and I sit on the bench and stare at the sea. The sky is cloudless. A chill creeps under my hoody as the sea waves murmur their eternal song. The moon shines corpse white, a ghastly disc against the velvety blackness of the sky.
“The old woman who owns the flower shop called her Julia not Eavan,” I say.
“She said the girl had quit her job,” Coyote says. “Very fucking strange.”
“I just don’t fucking get it,” I say, putting my elbows on my lap. “She looked happy.”
“It stinks,” Hale says. “I’m telling you, man, it stinks like shit. Leave it.”
“I will call Charlie,” I say.
Charlie is my brother and there is an eleven year gap between us. He’s thirty-five now and works as a private investigator.
He raised me after our parents were stripped of the parental rights due to their alcohol addiction when I was eight. I haven’t seen them since. Maybe they’re dead, I don’t really care. I have no memories of them. Charlie says sometimes that it was really bad, fights, police interventions, the lack of food. I don’t remember anything, but I hate it when people around me argue and raise their voices. That causes a lot of strain between Tania and me as I can be really nasty to her. She’s learnt to deal with me, cutting our fights short.
Coyote and Hale’s parents helped my brother to raise me, but yes, Charlie was my mum, my dad, my older brother, my god, and my everything. He leads the kind of dangerous life and keeps me away from it. Since our band was discovered by Tania during our performance in a dirty pub in the middle of nowhere five years ago, I’ve seen Charlie six times. We call each other twice a month and those conversations resemble interrogations, Charlie asks questions and I answer them. The truth is the band is my family now.
I was happy with my life until I met Eavan. She woke up my yearning for a real family, for a stable relationship, and for a boring normality.
“Leave it,” Hale says. “There will be others.”
“She may be pregnant with me,” I say.
I didn’t plan that. It just happened that each time I came inside her. In fact, I hope she’s pregnant with me, with at least triplets inside her womb so she’ll come to me, crawling on her knees, begging me to marry her.
I’ll be furious with her for a day or two then I’ll marry her and focus on my family.
“You’re out of your mind,” Hale says.
“I am,” I say.
“Let’s get some sleep,” Coyote says. “We have a concert this evening. Then I will think about my advice for you.”
I rise from my seat and pull forward. Coyote and Hale catch up with me. We part and go to our rooms. I sleep for twelve hours.
The boys wait for me outside of the B&B as I walk out of it at 6.15 pm. We cross the road then two teenage girls block our way by the bus stop.
“Are you Seafra?” one of them, the brunette, asks in a thin excited voice.
“We’re the ‘Broken Souls’,” Hale says. “But people always mistaken us for ‘Red Asylum’.”
The blonde sends him the glance of a dog pleading for some caressing. “Can we take a shot with you, guys?”
We squeeze around the girls and the brunette takes a shot with her phone.
“Thank you,” the girls say with one voice and they walk off.
“They didn’t want to crush us under their feet,” I say with sarcasm. “Sometimes less is better.”
Coyote nods at me. “This village is really nice. People are nice here. They respect your privacy.”
“Are you fucking making an atonement or what?” Hale explodes. “The band is falling apart. Yeah, I’ve noticed that. Can one of you tell me what is going on?”
“Our goals have changed,” Coyote says.
Hale sweeps his hand through the air. “Mine haven’t.” He picks up the pace and enters the back of the pub first.
I take a few deep breaths and adrenaline rushes through my veins. The familiar excitement stirs inside me, the fever of anticipation to face my audience, to take them to another realm, to shatter them and change them. Coyote pats my shoulder as I walk in and notice Tania talking to Tony. She tilts her head towards me so I move closer to them.
“We’re giving a really good performance tonight, right?” Tania says.
“As always,” I say.
She watches me for a moment. “Good.” Relief paints her face.
“I want to talk to you after the concert,” I say and she sends me a suspicious glance.
“Sure,” she says.
Tony slaps my arm. “Hurry.”
Half an hour later, I step onto the stage. My eyes sweep over the audience. Some of them are sitting at the tables whilst others are leaning against the walls or crowding in front of the stage, about fifty in total, dark figures exuding the fever of anticipation, pricking my skin, connecting me with them.
I imagine Ruby and Eavan sitting at
one of the tables, thrilled to watch my performance, then I turn my face to Coyote. “Whisper.”
Coyote looks at me as though he wants to growl ‘what the fuck’ then tilts his head to Hale who shrugs and we start the performance.
It feels good. I’m good. The audience are mesmerised even though I’m singing only for Eavan and Ruby.
As the performance ends, I walk off the stage and Tania grabs my elbow, guiding me to a small room.
“You’ve changed the repertoire,” she says as we settle ourselves at a desk.
I can’t read from her face whether she’s amused or angry.
“I don’t want anybody to tell me what to sing,” I say bluntly. “I don’t want a manager, or a horde of people around me, or living in a bus.”
She drops her head then raises it and sweeps her hair away from her face. “I’ve already found someone to replace you. Your agent and I agreed that she would be a good asset for the band.”
“Good.”
“But it’s up to you. We want you, Seafra, but we can’t chain you to the band.”
“I want something different in life.”
She sighs then a warm smile parts her lips. “I’m not surprised. I knew this would happen one day. I knew from the very beginning. You’re just a simple guy who wants a simple life but happened to have a real talent.”
“What can I say?”
“I want to make money, Seafra. I like my big house, my pool, and my posh friends. I love the thrill that lifestyle gives me.”
“I hate all those things.”
“I know. But if you changed your mind—“
“I won’t.”
“Okay. I will sort out all the paper work for you then.”
“Thank you, Tania.”
A scraping sound diverts my attention and I turn my head. My eyes meet Coyote’s.
“What about you, Coyote?” Tania asks. “Are you going to leave as well?”
“Haven’t decided yet,” Coyote says.
Tania waves her hands as though she wants to sweep us both out of the room. “Go, get drunk. I have a job to do.”
Wandering: A Rock Star Suspense Romance Page 6
