Worthy of the Harmony (Mountains & Men Book 2)

by Martin, R. C.

  Sage kisses his way up my chest, along my neck, and toward my lips. I pull away from him, reaching for his glasses, ready to take my turn undressing him. As I fold his horn-rimmed frames closed, he takes them from me and gently tosses them the short distance to his dresser. Much like our first night in my room, his space is lit only from the light of the moon and the street lamps that shine through his open curtains. Nevertheless, I can make out the blue of his beautiful eyes, and his hooded gaze makes me feel absolutely gorgeous. I want to crawl all over him—I want to feel the heat of his skin pressed against the heat of mine—I want his hands and his mouth everywhere—and I want it all now.

  I reach for the bottom of his shirt and he helps me take it off. When I start to unfasten the top of his jeans, he tugs at mine. His hand slips down the front, his fingers cupping my soaked thong, and I respond in kind—reaching for his hardened length inside of his boxers. He grunts, his long, thick appendage twitching at my touch.

  “Want to eat your pussy,” he mutters, pressing his forehead against mine.

  “Want to suck your cock,” I reply, giving him a squeeze.

  He grunts once more before he frees his hand and takes hold of each side of my jeans. “You first.” He sinks to his knees and then strips my legs bare, guiding my ankles out of my pants and then my thong. He tosses both garments aside before he places his hands on my hips and turns me around. “Brace yourself, doll face.”

  He nudges my legs apart, widening my stance. I clap my hands against the door just as his tongue slides along my slit. “Oh, god,” I moan, tilting my head back. He sucks my throbbing clit between his lips and and my fingers curl, trying to find purchase on a surface that will give me nothing.

  “Fuck, you taste good,” he mumbles against my sex. Even just the kiss of his breath makes my legs tremble. “I'm hungry, baby doll.” He licks at my entrance, teasing me, and I whimper, pressing my flushed cheek against the cool door. “Gonna need you to come all over my tongue.” I nod, even though I know he can't see me, and then he plunges inside of me.

  I can barely breathe, his mouth making it hard for me to think about anything besides the pleasure he’s giving me. He molds his hands around my backside as he flicks the tip of his tongue across my clit, and his name falls from my lips.

  “Sage, oh, Sage,” I moan, and then I pull my bottom lip between my teeth.

  I can feel it as every muscle in my body tenses, bracing for my release. When he pushes two fingers inside of me, curling the tips as he smothers my incredibly sensitive sweet spot with his firm, hot tongue, I can't be silenced. I come and he doesn't stop his ministrations until he's satisfied with the extent of my orgasm.

  He laps up my release and then I hear it as he sucks on his fingers, humming with satisfaction. I'm still pressed against the door working to catch my breath when I feel him nip at my ass with his teeth. A grin plays at my lips as a giggle bubbles out of me, and then I sigh as he kisses his way up my back.

  “I’m going to write a song about your pussy, baby. So damn delicious, I could eat you for every meal.”

  “You better not,” I laugh, turning to face him. “I most certainly don’t need a room full of people singing about what’s between my legs.”

  “Mmm, cities full of people,” he growls, pressing his erection against my hip. “Countries full of people, doll face. Everyone will love it—only I’ll get to taste it.”

  “You’re disgusting.”

  “But you don’t deny it,” he whispers, tracing his nose along mine. “The whole world will sing of your magnificent pussy.”

  I cup my hands around his face and peer into his eyes. He’s serious. Perhaps not about the song describing his intimate relationship with my vagina—god, I hope that’s the beer talking—but the rest of it? For a moment, I think about our car ride here after the concert. Listening to him talk about the possibility of being invited on this tour, hearing his excitement—this is his dream. It’s all of their dreams. I don’t know if I’ve ever held a dream with such enthusiasm. Or maybe I did. Once.

  I shake the thought away, irritated by the alcohol induced walk down memory lane. I don’t wish to go there. I want to be here. Now. With him. The dreamer.

  For his sake, for the light that shines in his icy blue eyes, I want for his dreams to never know darkness.

  “I hope the whole world will sing with you, Sage,” I finally manage. “Just not about my pussy.”

  A wicked grin curls his lips and then he grips me around my waist and lifts my feet from the floor. I hook my ankles behind his thighs and he carries me across the room, not so gently depositing me on his bed. I open my mouth to grumble but then he rubs his jean clad bulge against my wet pussy and my complaint disappears.

  “Hey, it’s your turn,” I breathe.

  He shakes his head at me as he lifts himself onto his feet. He drops his pants and boxers, kicking them aside as he reaches for his nightstand drawer. “Need to be inside you, gorgeous,” he mutters, ripping open the condom.

  I don’t argue.

  He crawls back on top of me, weighing me down just enough so that I feel him from head to toe, supporting what he thinks I can’t handle on his elbows. “I like you here,” he whispers against my lips, rubbing his heavy cock against my swollen center. “In my bed.”

  “Oh, yeah?”

  Reaching down between us, he positions himself at my entrance and slowly invites himself inside me. “Yeah,” he breathes, blowing out what I suck in.

  All thoughts of his confession are eradicated by the feeling of his cock as he pumps in and out of me. Sage stretches me open and fills me up like no one ever has before. I’m not sure I’ll ever get enough of him. It’s a truth I simply cannot deny. Every time we’re together, it gets better. He’s learning my body and I’m learning his.

  “Who owns your orgasm, baby?”

  “You,” I admit without hesitation. It’s true. I won’t even pretend otherwise. He always leaves me sated and exhausted in the most blissful way.

  “You bet your sweet, little ass,” he mutters, pulling out of me. I gasp, surprised and disappointed, and then he smirks at me before sitting up on his knees and flipping me over. He tugs up on my hips and I prop myself up on my hands and knees, my belly anxious and my pussy longing for his return. He slides back in with ease, one hand gripping my hip, the other caressing one side of my ass. His fingers squeeze and I close my eyes, wanting nothing more than to get lost in him.

  “Oh, god,” I mewl when he hits some magical spot.

  That’s new.

  My insides spark, my skin tingles, and I break out into a sweat all at once.

  He hits it again.

  “Oh, shit, Sage—yes! Right there, right there, right there!” I gasp, my fingers clawing at his sheets. I moan and it’s loud. I should be embarrassed, but he feels too good. I can’t shut up. I won’t.

  “God, Millie—can’t get enough of this pussy,” his voice rumbles as he thrusts into me faster. “Need you to come, doll face.”

  My whole body is trembling. I can’t speak. I can’t breathe. I’m overwhelmed. Surely, he must know—he must know that I’m about to explode. When my orgasm bursts, euphoria flooding my veins, my voice claws its way from my throat. “Sage! Yes! Fuck—yes!”

  He grunts a string of expletives, pounding into me even harder. I feel it as he grows larger and then spills his own cum. He groans as he rides out his release and then we both collapse. This time, he doesn’t brace himself, but buries me into the mattress as he weighs me down.

  His skin is slick with sweat and he smells of sex and his own natural musk. It’s marvelous and I never want him to move.

  “Damn, baby doll.”

  “Mmmm,” I hum, offering him all I have to give.

  He presses his lips into my hair and then rolls off of me and onto his back. After a couple deep breaths, I roll over as well, resting my cheek against the bed as I look over at him. I watch as he pulls the condom off, knotting it before carelessly tossing
it onto the floor. I roll my eyes, too spent to offer any other protest.

  When he looks over at me, he tips his chin and says, “Come ‘ere.” I roll onto my side, closing the distance between us, and he shakes his head, patting his chest. “Here.” Before I can interpret what he means, he rolls toward me, gripping me around the waist before flopping back onto his back, settling me on top of him. My hair falls around my face as well as his, my ends brushing the bed, and he reaches up to sweep the strands behind my ears. “Not done touching you, yet,” he tells me

  I nod, press a kiss against his lips, and then rest my head on his shoulder. He traces his finger tips up and down my back and along my sides. I free a sigh, closing my eyes.

  “Don’t you fucking dare,” he murmurs, playfully smacking my ass. “We’re not finished, doll face.”

  I move positions, folding my arms across his sternum and propping my chin on my hands. “If you don’t stop touching me like that, sleep is exactly what will happen.” He grunts, resting his hands around my backside with a smirk. “You should probably talk to me, too.”

  “About what?”

  I shrug and blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. “Did you guys find anyone you’re interested in to replace Keith?” I know that Sage and the rest of the guys don’t blame me for what happened a couple weeks ago at The Wash Bar. Keith is most certainly responsible for his own horrible actions, but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel like I played a part in their loss. Just like Sage is sure he could have prevented me ending up in harm’s way that night had he found me sooner, I’m convinced they’d still have a bass player had I not shown up that night at all.

  Then again, if it wasn’t me, it would have been someone else. I suppose what Sage said is true. Judging by Keith’s character, it wasn’t really much of a loss.

  “Maybe,” he says, interrupting my thoughts. “We’ll see who turns up for auditions this week.”

  “What about Wren? Why can’t he stay?”

  “He used to play with us, back when we first started,” he begins to explain, his fingers starting up again. “Wren was in the same class as Derrick, that’s how we got hooked up. He played with us for about a year or so and then he got his girl knocked up.” Sage shrugs, as if to imply that it’s no big deal. “He split on account of it was time for him to settle down. The guy got a full-time gig, got married; he does the dad thing more than anything else now. Obviously, he’s still got it. Wren’ll fill in for us when we’re in a pinch. It’s happened a couple of times—fucking curse of the bass slot. Anyway, he’s good people, but he won’t stay.”

  “Mmmmm,” I hum my understanding and then rest my head on his shoulder once more. “So he went to school with Derrick?”

  “College, yeah.”

  “CSU? Did they graduate?” I ask, genuinely curious.

  “Yeah. What of it? You judging me again, doll face?” He doesn’t sound like he’s joking, but his fingers don’t stop tracing across my skin and his voice is still warm and soft. His lack of education isn’t so much a fault as much as it is something that makes us drastically different. Being a college professor makes me kind of a big advocate for higher learning. I think I’ll always be a student at heart.

  “No,” I exaggerate. “Just making conversation.”

  “Hmm. Well, believe it or not, I’m the only one who never finished college. I was sixteen when we started the band. Knox was in his first year at CSU and he’s how we picked up Derrick. I met JJ when I started taking my music comp classes. D graduated first. Then JJ. Then Knox. Maddox is supposed to graduate next spring.”

  “Wow,” I murmur.

  “What? You thought we were all just a bunch of punks playing music for a dime?”

  I lift my head and attempt to stare through the darkness and into his eyes. I don’t know if I’m imagining the slight hint of defensiveness in his tone or not, but I suddenly wonder if my initial reaction to finding out that he’s not a student offended him more than he let on. When he told me, it had come as a surprise. Dealing with our age difference had been enough as it was—I’m still not convinced the five years between us won’t play into the demise of whatever it is that’s going on between us. In any case, I certainly don’t think less of him as a person just because he doesn’t have an interest in college.

  “Hey,” I begin, pausing to make sure I have his full attention. For some reason, I feel particularly adamant that he understands how I see him. “I heard you when you said college wasn’t your thing. I hear you up on that stage. You are amazing. All of you. I’ve never thought anything less. You’ve got a great voice. I really do hope the world will sing with you.”

  For a moment, he doesn’t say anything. His fingers come to a halt as he presses one palm against the small of my back, bringing his other hand up to cup around the back of my neck. He lifts his face and touches his nose to mine, and I bite my lip when I feel him growing hard beneath me.

  “And we shall sing, gorgeous, of your perfect pussy.”

  I manage to groan and giggle before he presses his lips against mine. “Sing about my pussy and you will pay dearly,” I mutter, my mouth still adhered to his.

  He grunts, lifting his hips and rubbing his length against my stomach. “How about, for now, I just fuck it?”

  “Mmm,” I hum with a smile. “Yes, please.”

  I DRAW IN A deep breath as sleep slips out of my grasp and then blow it all out as I peek open one eye. The sun, which is already high in the sky, is pouring through the curtain of my window. I usually close the blinds before I go to bed to prevent this kind of morning greeting; but when I open my other eye and look at the reason I forgot, I could give a fuck.

  Millie’s on her side facing me, her arms curled up against her chest, her legs tangled with mine. Her long, ashy brown hair is fanned out across my pillows, leaving her face on display for me to admire. She’s so damn beautiful, I could stare at her all morning. Or, rather, all afternoon. I like how she’ll sleep well past noon on a Sunday, as if that’s what Sundays were intended for.

  It’s been a long time since I’ve had a repeat guest in my bed. Most of my hookups don’t happen here at all, but I meant what I said last night. I like having her here. I also liked having her at the show last night. When she came backstage with Violet after our set, it was like my whole body was abuzz with the reminder that I want this girl. This woman. I haven’t yet taken her out on a real date, just the two of us. She still seems reluctant to go there with me. But this is a battle I intend to win. And soon. I want more of her—more of her smart-ass mouth, more of her sexy giggle, more of her drop dead gorgeous face. Fuck, I sound like a pussy.

  I don’t even give a shit.

  I drape my arm around her and draw her closer, wishing to feel her warm skin pressed against mine. I sure as hell want more of this body all over me. She’s hands down, dick up, the best lay I’ve ever had. Every damn time.

  I lean over and press a kiss against her bare shoulder and she sighs, stirring up my dick. A smirk pulls at the corner of my mouth as I kiss her again, making my way toward her neck. She squirms, nestling herself closer to me, her thigh brushing against my cock. I pull her even closer and nibble on the soft, fragrant skin just below her jaw. She tastes both salty and sweet, her skin still sticky from our tumble in the sheets early this morning. I can smell the lingering trace of vanilla that she wears, too.

  “If you leave a mark, I’ll kick your ass,” she mumbles, her lips grazing my throat. The sound of her morning voice, raspy from sleep, has my cock’s full attention.

  “Oh, yeah?”

  “Mmm,” she hums.

  “And if I do it where no one will see it?”

  As soon as the words pass through my lips, I duck my head and latch onto the side of her boob. I bite while I suck and she gasps, her hands finding their way into my hair. I pull away and admire the pink mark I’ve left, then smile when I look up at her. Her lips are parted, her breathing slightly ragged, and her eyes are barely open. I know r
ight away that it’s lust I see in her hooded gaze and not exhaustion. I decide to take it upon myself to change that.

  I close my lips around her nipple, sucking hard as I swirl my tongue around the tip. She utters my name with a moan, turning me on even more. My hands are everywhere as I latch onto her opposite nipple. I feel my way across the soft skin of her flat stomach, along the delicate curves of her side and over her hip. When I bite and suck her creamy skin, marking her tit as mine, she arches her back and I trail my fingers around and down, grabbing a palm full of ass.

  Fucking love her sweet, little ass.

  By the time I’m finished with her, her breasts are splattered with hickeys. I nibble and lick my way up her chest and along her neck until my lips find hers. She grabs hold of my face, keeping me close as my tongue seeks entrance into her mouth. Then she wraps her legs around me and I groan when her warm, wet pussy makes contact with my dick.

  “You still want a taste?” I mutter against her mouth. She opens her eyes, her gaze instantly locking with mine before she nods. A smirk tugs at my lips before I smack a kiss against hers and then roll us over so that she’s on top of me. “Have at it, doll face.”

  I fold my arms behind my head and watch as she kisses her way down my chest, across my abs, licking the indented curve of my hips. I pull my lip between my teeth, biting down hard when she fists my dick and sucks one of my balls into her mouth.

  “Fu-uck,” I mutter when she moves on to the other. Then she flattens her tongue against me, licking her way from base to tip before she wraps her lips around my head. “Fuck, baby doll. Just—fuck! You feel so good.”

  She takes as much of me into her mouth as she can, stroking the rest of me with her tight fingers. As her head bobs up and down, she hums, giving voice to her own enjoyment. I reach down, sweeping her hair out of her face so that I can see her. She’s the finest little thing my cock has ever seen. She sucks harder, taking me deeper, and it takes everything in me to keep my shit together. When I feel my balls start to tighten, I sit up and lift her off of me. She sits back on her heels, lifting an eyebrow at me in question.