by Ava Lore
Just the thought stoked the fires again, and he made a sound of deep pleasure when he felt my inner walls contract around his fingers. “You like that idea,” he said.
I shot him a scowl. “Who wouldn't?”
He laughed at that. “Well, let's try it then.” He bent his head to my pussy again, but I sat up and buried my fingers in his hair, keeping him from dipping into me. He gave me a questioning look.
“I want you inside me,” I said, then blushed hard. I'd never said anything like that before, but it was the truth. If I didn't have his cock inside me, and soon, I was going to explode. I'd been lusting after him all month, coming with him even though we were in separate rooms, and now that I had the chance to finally feel him in me, I wasn't letting it slip away.
The humor in his face was replaced by barely concealed fire. “Well,” he said, “when you put it that way...”
I watched as he reached around his body. He still wore his jeans, and when he pulled out his wallet I breathed a sigh of relief. I certainly wasn't carrying any condoms, so at least one of us was prepared. I watched as he reached in and pulled out a gold-foiled packet.
His blue-green eyes caught mine. “Would you like to do the honors?” he asked.
I licked my lips and nodded. Anything to get my hands on his cock again.
He handed me the packet and shucked off his jeans while I ripped it open. Grabbing the little circle of latex, I dove for his cock.
He inhaled sharply as I closed my hand around his shaft and placed the condom on the tip of the soft head. Slowly, I reached up and began to unroll it, letting it sheathe his cock as my fingers played with the velvety smooth skin, slipping it over the iron-hard shaft inside. When I finally pushed it down to the bottom of his cock, he gave a little shudder.
“Shit,” he said. “I'm glad I'm wearing this. I think I might come if you looked at me wrong.”
I looked up at his face, and it was fierce and dark with unveiled hunger.
“Yes,” he said. “Like that.” Then his hands were buried in my hair and I was pinned beneath his weight, falling into the softness of the couch cushions as he settled between my legs, the tip of his cock pressing into me.
I wanted him in me so badly. I needed to feel him. Bringing my legs up, I wrapped them around his wonderful, trim waist, then reached down and grabbed his cock, guiding it into me.
He buried his face against my throat. “Yes,” I heard him say. Then his hips were pressing forward, splitting me, parting me, and I bit his shoulder to keep from screaming.
Long. Slow. Luxurious. It took forever, but not long enough, and when he was finally seated in me, thick and long and hard, I marveled that I could fit all of him. I nudged his hips with mine, but he didn't reciprocate. I frowned through the pleasure.
He drew back, pushing himself off me so he could look me in the eye, and his gaze was downright sinful.
“You ever fucked standing up before?” he asked, a wicked little smile on his face.
Inhaling sharply, I shook my head.
“Then you are in for the ride of your life.” And he pulled me up from the couch, my legs still wrapped around him and walked with me to the wall next to the window, carrying me easily. The strength in his arms, in his hands, in his body shocked me, and my core clenched around his cock in anticipation.
Then my back met the wall and I was sandwiched between his burning body and the cool sheetrock. Both were equally hard.
I tensed, suddenly feeling less than stable, but then he wrapped his hands around the round cheeks of my ass. “Hold on,” he said. “Trust me.”
I wrapped my arms around his neck, and he began to move in me.
Oh, I thought.
Every thrust, in and out, made my toes curl, made my mouth water. Every undulation of his powerful body rocked through me, a seismic shift deep inside. My nails dug into his skin and he groaned, picking up his pace until all I knew was the heat, the crowded pleasure, the sweetness of his breath in my head. My legs were locked around his waist and I dug my heels in, aching, arching, needing him so badly I could taste it. Then he kissed me and I went to a whole new level.
My body trembled as he stroked me, his cock plumbing the depths of my wet core, and I clung to him for dear life. My back knocked into the wall, but I couldn't have cared less—our mouths met and parted with each thrust, and my toes curled as I felt my orgasm building deep inside.
I'd never felt anything like it. The weight of my body and the force of gravity seemed to pull every nerve down into my pussy. The rocking of his hips as he thrust upwards slapped against my spread thighs, a spanking without hands, and each smack of flesh on flesh drove me higher and higher. I couldn't breathe, couldn't even think, just threw my head back and moaned, my arms around his neck, my fingers tangling in his hair.
“Rebecca,” he said. “Rebecca, I want you to come.”
I gasped at his words. “I...” My whole body responded to his words, shocking me. “Oh god, Kent...” I said. “I want to...”
“Fuck me,” he said. “Fuck me, wring me dry, come around me and take me with you—”
I shuddered, and then I came, hard and powerful. It struck me like a sledgehammer, shattering me into a hundred thousand pieces, and yet somehow I stayed in his arms, my eyes rolling, reduced to my animal self as all higher functions shut down. Deep, aching moans filled the room and I realized they were mine.
Kent's breath came fast and hard as he slammed into me, my core squeezing around his cock, and within seconds he jerked against me, his pumping hips slamming me against the wall, and the pleasure and pain mixed and became one—
...I came down as Kent lowered us to the floor, his legs trembling.
“Oh god,” I said.
He gave a shaky laugh. “Yeah. Pretty much.”
He slipped out of me, and then helped me to my feet, his lips meeting mine, and reached up and around, pulling him into me. Hungrily I kissed him until he groaned and pulled away.
“Jesus, Rebecca, you make me want to go again and I don't think my legs can take it.”
I gave him my own wicked little smile. “Then I'll do all the work.”
“Yes, please.”
We moved to the bed and tumbled together again, and afterward, exhausted emotionally and physically, I fell asleep.
Late at night I woke up again and had to go to the bathroom. I slipped out of bed and did my business as quietly as possible, but when I came back to bed Kent was awake in the dark.
I slid into bed next to him, reached out, and wrapped my arm around his chest, letting my fingers trace the tattoos there.
“So,” I said, “I'm thinking I should break up with your brother.”
He smiled. “I was thinking that, too.”
I raised my eyebrows at him. “Oh, were you?”
“Yes. You have no idea how much I was thinking that.”
“It's going to be weird with the publicity you put into this.”
“I'll think of something. I don't think I could go back to seeing you with him, even though I know it's just an act. I want you to myself.”
This still didn't seem real. “Why?”
“Because I want to get to know you better, and I can't do that with my kid brother hanging around,” he told me.
“Yeah, but why?”
He frowned and propped his head up on his hand. “Why not?”
“You could have any girl you wanted. You should be dating supermodels.”
He shook his head. “I don't want to date supermodels. I want to date you. I want to get to know what you like and what you don't. I want to make you laugh. I want to wake you up and put you to sleep.”
His words rocked me, scared me a little with their intensity. But he was serious, and I found that I loved it. “Then why didn't you just do that in the first place?”
Kent snorted. “Because... I don't know. I didn't want to want to date someone, if that makes sense. I thought it would be a distraction from keeping the band rolling”
He rolled back on the pillow and gave me a sidelong glance. “Of course, you were way more of a distraction even without dating me so... I'm stupid?”
I giggled. “That makes two of us.”
“Good company,” he said and kissed me with a fervor that I felt all the way down to my toes.
When he finally pulled away my head was spinning, but something was occurring to me. “Wait, are we dating now?”
“Don't be silly. I haven't asked you out yet.”
“So what is this?”
“Really fucking nice,” he said. Then he frowned. “Or is it really nice fucking? Fuck it, who cares? I bet it's both.” He kissed me again. And then he rolled into me and there were more than kisses, and you know what?
He was right. It was both.
I slipped out of Kent's room and back to my own early the next morning. I tried to be as quiet as possible as I unlocked the door to the room I shared with Carter, but the click sounded like a gunshot in the quiet hallway.
“Shut up!” I told it, and eased the door open.
Carter was standing there in his pajamas, a cup of coffee in his hand, looking smug.
I groaned. “Don't,” I said. “Don't say anything.”
“Say anything about what, Mrs. Girlfriend?” he asked. “About you coming home in the clothes you were wearing last night? Although I bet it was an awfully short walk of shame...”
I glared at him. “Why did you do all that work to try to hook me up with your brother? Don't you think it's a little weird?”
“Weird? Excuse me? What was weird was him making you my fake girlfriend when he wanted to bone you himself. That was weird. I get why he did it, but you know. It's still weird.”
“Why did he do it?” I pushed past him and to the tiny kitchen where there was still a pouch of single-serve coffee left and I set about making some. Carter leaned against the counter.
“Well, he was right. It did clean up my image. But mostly I think it's because he's a self-sacrificing dork who thinks if he's happy then he's not doing his job right.”
My lips twisted at that. I could definitely see it. “And that's why?”
Carter shrugged. “I've never seen Kent happy. You want to know who else I never saw happy?”
My curiosity was piqued. “Who?”
He sipped his coffee. “Our dad. That fucker was never happy. I don't want Kent to end up like that. That would be the worst fucking thing in the world.”
Carter's face was grim, and for a moment I thought I'd ask him about his father, but just then my phone dinged at me.
I frowned—who'd be messaging me at this time in the morning? Maybe my mother. She never seemed to get the hang of time zones.
But it wasn't from my mother. It was from Jason.
“Everyone knows what you are now, whore.”
I felt the blood drain from my face. I didn't know what those words meant, but they couldn't mean anything good.
“Uh,” I said. “Just a second. I have to check something on my computer.”
“What's wrong?” Carter asked, but I didn't reply. I just rushed into the bedroom, snatched my computer from the bedside table, and opened it. My hands trembled as I typed in my password and connected to the hotel's Wi-Fi. I wasn't sure what I was looking for, but I knew where I could find it.
The very first gossip blog showed me exactly what he was talking about.
My blood turned to stone in my veins as I stared at the screen.
“Rebecca?” Carter in the doorway. “Are you okay?”
Wordlessly I handed my laptop to him.
He stared at the screen, at the image of me and Kent, backlit in his hotel room, me up against the wall as he fucked me, my head thrown back, our bodies coupling.
“CARTER HUDSON'S GIRLFRIEND UNFAITHFUL—WITH HIS BROTHER!” the headline screamed.
Carter's face went pale.
“We can fix this,” he said, but he sounded unsure. “We can fix it, Rebecca.”
He turned and practically ran out of the room and I barely had the presence of mind to follow him. He was banging on Kent's door before I knew what was happening.
Kent opened it, and I was struck with a bolt of déjà vu. Just like last night, except everything had changed.
Kent took one look at the photo beaming out across the world, and I saw his face change.
No, I wanted to say. No, I was just getting started with you, with all of you...
But he lifted his eyes to mine, and I knew it as much as he did.
My time here was done.
To be concluded in Exclusive Engagement (Rock Arrangement, #4)!
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More Books By Ava Lore
About the Author
Ava Lore was raised by okapis and lives to corrupt the innocent. When she's not writing
erotic romance, she spends her time thinking about writing erotic romance and drinking enough iced coffee to kill a musk ox.
You can email Ava Lore at [email protected], follow her on twitter (@authoravalore) or visit her at authoravalore.com. She yearns for your approval and always loves to hear from fans.
Want more BBW? More Billionaires? More aliens? More menage? Something entirely different? Let her know!
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