Phoenix Rising: Issue #1 (Pretty Boy Rock Series)

by S R Watson

  Harlow

  I awake to strong muscular arms wrapped around my waist. I’m disoriented for a second, but then I remember I am here with Phoenix. I’m not sure how much time has passed, but I know I’ve been fucked well. Some parts are a blur, but I remember being frightened and a suffocating sensation before an intense feeling of pleasure took over my body. It’s indescribable other than I felt like I was floating. My pussy is delectably sore from the punishment she took, but it is the good kind of sore. Phoenix is an enigma. I wouldn’t have guessed he was capable of any of this, just to look at him.

  I mean, who would have thought that this sexy guy, who doesn’t look like your typical rocker to begin with, had so many layers? To know that although he could be considered a manwhore, this is a side of himself that he keeps reserved. I got to see the part of him that he rarely shows to anyone. I’m feeling pretty damn special at the moment, as I bask in the afterglow of the start of something great.

  “Hmm, you’re awake,” Phoenix says groggily. I can feel his muscular chest against my back. Oddly I’m naked, but he is still in his jeans. “How are you feeling?”

  “More than great, I’d say.” There is just enough sunlight shining through the crack in the blackout drapes that I can see him smiling with pride. “Why am I the only one naked, though?”

  “It was for your benefit. You needed to be comfortable, but you also needed to rest after our breath play scene. Had I gotten naked with you, I can’t say that I would not have rolled you over during the night and slid into you. Your pussy chips away at my self-control.” All I heard through all that is I needed to rest.

  “So we stopped because of me?” So much for handling the big leagues, as Irelyn would put it.

  “No worries, Harlow. It was to be expected. I wouldn’t be worth my salt if I didn’t anticipate your reaction, especially with it being your first time.”

  Phoenix explains to me what subspace means and the importance of aftercare. It was important for him not to push because me being under the influence of heightened euphoria wouldn’t be conducive to further play. I couldn’t properly consent to the pleasure he wanted to inflict on my body.

  “Well, we can continue now,” I offer embarrassingly.

  “Maybe. First, let’s run you a bath.” He gets up out of the bed and opens the curtains fully to let the natural sunlight in. The muscles in his back, coupled with his jeans sitting low on his hips, are hot as hell. His bare feet, though, are everything. I’m not really into feet, but there is just something about a man wearing nothing but jeans and exposed bare feet—kind of primal. It’s sexy. I’m getting worked up just watching him move about the room. It’s unfair for someone to be that hot and gorgeous without doing anything—just normal shit. I want to fuck him right now. He makes me crazy with lust, yet I can’t just blurt it out what I want. He walks past me into the bathroom. Seconds later, I hear water running. I pull the covers back and decide to join him. First, I have to slip my dress on, which is lying on the floor. I’m not that confident to walk around naked. “You could have stayed in bed until your water was ready,” he mentions.

  “It’s okay. I’m up now.” The truth is, I feel a need to be near him. His natural scent is intoxicating. I know I don’t have long with him, as we’ll be checking out of the hotel in a few hours. I want to make the most of our time.

  “You can get in now,” he says as he turns off the water.

  “Uh, okay.” He is different this morning. It’s crazy, but I want domineering Phoenix back. He says, and I do. No time to be in my own head and create self-doubts. How do I tell him what I want? It’s like my body knows how much I want the dick, but I’m afraid to speak the words. Fear of rejection paralyzes the words on my tongue. His maybe response in the bedroom to my hint at continuing where we left off doesn’t do anything for my confidence. Hell, I don’t even want to get nude in order to get in the tub while he is still standing here. The bright light of this bathroom negates any place to hide. He would see everything.

  “You’re doing it again, Harlow,” he observes. Only I don’t know what he is getting at.

  “Doing what?” I know he is about to call me out on something.

  “Overthinking. Hiding. You pick.” He stares through me, and I can’t keep his gaze. He has me pegged.

  “I’m—” I’m about to deny his accusations, but he shushes me.

  “Shhhh,” he says, bringing a lone finger to his lips. I remember that same finger pressed against my lips after it had stroked me and soaked me. “I can see it your eyes. Your face is very telling. It gives away what you’re feeling.” He stands up from the edge of the tub and walks over to me. He pulls down the dress I just put back on. He inches it down to expose my breasts first, perusing the hardening of my nipples.

  “Let me help you,” he offers. He pulls my dress the rest of the way down and lets it fall to my ankles. I’m completely naked, and I struggle not to cover myself with my hands. “Good girl,” he praises. “Now undress me.” Holy shit. His Dom voice is back. I unbutton his jeans and pull them down his legs until he steps out of them. He stands there proud with his dick at attention. It is pink perfection—so pretty.

  “Gorgeous,” I say, immediately realizing my inner thoughts have manifested into speech.

  “Why, thank you. He likes you, too.” He winks. He walks around me and steps in the tub. “Join me, Harlow.” I step into the tub, and I’m guided to straddle him. He rubs himself against me, and I already feel I’m teetering on the edge. His cock is hard and waiting for me. I slide down on it to the hilt. I begin to rock on it. But my motions are halted.

  “What’s wrong?” I question.

  “I say when, princess.” My control freak is back…okay, maybe he never left. “What are the magic words?” he teases.

  “Please, Sir,” I say mockingly as I roll my eyes. What does he want me to say? He’s made me horny, and I want to fuck. I’m caught off guard by what happens next. He lifts me up off his dick and stands. He exits the tub quite pissed with me. His jaw tightens, and nostrils flare. What the? I don’t understand.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Phoenix

  I will not stand to be mocked. I don’t give her an explanation. She needs to figure it out. This is not some pretend world I live in. I’m not exactly proud of my urges to control women by unconventional means—the need to bring them to the brink of suffocation or death as a way to exert my power. The feeling is unparalleled by anything else. I have other urges that are prominent in my kink repertoire, but breath play is definitely my strongest itch. Regardless of my desire for her, I will not allow Harlow to make light of what I’ve chosen to share with her. It’s not for everyone, and I understand that. I would never push. However, if we’re not in the same mindset or seriousness of what we partake in, I will end it. I saw the joke in her eyes. Last night, her submission was something to see—beautiful. Today, I’m at a loss. I see her attempts to pacify me, say what’s needed to get what she wants. I will not allow this to be a game, and I damn sure will not allow her to top.

  I walk over and turn the shower on. Let her bathe on her own, and then we’re out of here. I’m done. I pretend not to notice as she steps out of the tub. Worry is all over her face. She can’t hide shit. I can tell she realizes her mistake. The submissive in her doesn’t like that she’s made me upset.

  She comes to the shower and stands on the outside for a second. Seeing her so unsure, but making the effort anyway, defuses my frustration. Maybe I am being too hard on her. I can’t expect her to acclimate and adjust to my needs in a day. I will give her a chance to show me this is what she wants—that this is not just some sick joke to her. Harlow steps into the shower with me, and no words are exchanged. She drops to her knees, ready to deliver her apologies directly to my cock. She is forgiven with the first timid lick, but I’m inclined to let her show me just how sorry she is.

  “Good girl,” I praise to encourage her. This rebuilds her confidence. She strokes me with one hand
as she gives her undivided attention to the head. Her warm tongue licks the vein that runs underneath my dick, and it makes my toes curl. “Shit, baby.”

  “Mm-hmm,” she moans around my dick. The vibrations have me putting my hand against the travertine for support. She takes me deep, and I love that her gag reflex is almost nonexistent. She bobs up and down in slow, excruciatingly pleasurable licks. I feel the buildup at the base of my balls, but I can’t come yet. I need to fuck her. In an instant, I take my dick out of her mouth and pull her up. I push her against the shower wall. “Grrrrrr. Fucking hold on.”

  I slide into her and immediately begin to thrust into her roughly. My control has snapped. I wrap my hands around her hair and pull as I slam into her over and over. She pushes her ass out toward me for more, and it ignites my frenzied pace. My balls slapping against her ass echoes over the sound of the shower. I’m not going to last. Her pussy is too good, and I’ve denied myself this too long. Rough sex is my other kink, but I wanted to build up to it. Too late. I use my other hand to finger her. I need her to catch up. The slickness that coats my fingers tells me that she is already there. I bite her shoulder as the most intense orgasm rips through me. She clenches around my dick, prolonging it even more. It’s not until I’ve totally emptied myself into her that I realize my mistake. “Fucccccccccck,” I groan and not in a pleasant tone. She can tell. Her own realizations are apparent.

  “Condom. You didn’t wear a condom.” She is having her own mini breakdown. I slide out of her, and some of my cum drips down her leg. “I don’t have unprotected sex.” The worry is back—etched deep within crinkles in her forehead.

  “Relax. This is a fucking first for me too. I’m not going to give you anything. Are you on the pill?” The harshness in my tone has bite. It’s not her fault. It’s mine.

  I’m upset because I pride myself on not only the control I exert but being in control. I’ve already taken so many liberties with her—relaxed my rules. And now this.

  “No,” she answers. There is more to consider than just an STD here. She opens one of the soaps in the shower enclave and begins to scrub herself furiously.

  “Dammit.” I knew the answer to that question before I asked it. I’m quite sure she wasn’t getting dick regularly before she met me if her earlier clothing choice was anything to go by. “I don’t fuck around without protection, Harlow. So that is one less thing to worry about. Finish your shower, and we’ll see about getting you that Plan B thing on the way back,” I say more calmly. I step in next to her and use the soap she just set down to wash my dick. Good enough. I get out and towel myself dry. Although there were highlights, I wouldn’t call our attempt at this a success.

  I feel myself changing for her, and I don’t like it. She gets underneath my skin like no other. I give her consideration that nobody else gets—I bend the rules for her. The last woman who was able to get this close to me broke me. Melissa introduced me to all of this. She was an experienced sub who knew what she wanted. She saw dominant traits in me and got me into shit I didn’t know existed or that I would grow to love.

  Melissa gave me an outlet for my need for control, and then she left me. She made me love her, and then she walked away when she grew bored. I wasn’t hard-core enough for her. She wanted more than I could give or wanted to experiment with. After she left, I hated this side of myself: the demons that needed this type of sex for true gratification. I’m able to suppress my urges for the most part, mainly because I don’t find many women worthy of the effort. This lifestyle is not something you can venture into casually or lightly. Most women I meet are only my fuck for the night or, at best, three times. Not enough time to establish a real connection for what I need. There have been some that I have shared the lightest of my kink with just to subdue pent-up urges, but nothing like what I shared with Harlow last night or just now.

  I lost control with her. She didn’t seem to mind the rough sex, but it still doesn’t sit right with me. I can barely look at her. To make matters worse, I lost my temper. I can’t let her be another Melissa. I need to gain some perspective and regain control, or I will have to distance myself from her. For now, though, I have to fix this. I can’t let her leave here thinking she did something wrong or that I’m angry with her.

  “Look, Harlow. I’m sorry. I’m upset with myself, not you. I lost control.” I leave it at that. I won’t tell her about Melissa or why my need for control is so important.

  “It will be fine. We’ll get the Plan B. You say you haven’t had unprotected sex, and neither have I, so we should be safe. Don’t beat yourself up about it. If it’s of any consequence, I’m not mad.”

  “Good. I don’t want us to part on a sour note. I appreciate last night—your trust and submission. It’s been a long time since I’ve indulged.” I chuckle because that sounded like some goddamn admission in an anonymous meeting or something.

  “What’s funny?” she asks as she turns the shower off. I hand her a towel. It doesn’t escape my notice that she is just a little more comfortable with her nudity than when we first came in here. She grabs the towel and wraps it around herself before stepping out of the shower. Okay, so maybe not totally comfortable. Baby steps.

  “Never mind. I’ll leave you to it, so we can check out.” I smile. I’m still quite pissed with myself, but the responsible thing to do is not to let her see. Not after what she has given. I smile so her submissive nature can relax. I bring her small overnight bag into the bathroom so she can change. I leave out to give her the privacy she won’t ask for. As I change in the bedroom, I look around the room. This is our second visit to this hotel. I question whether there will be another.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Harlow

  It’s a beautiful Sunday afternoon, and I’m heading to the lake house to see Asher. That’s the cover story anyway. I really want to see Phoenix. Irelyn’s mother delivered her Honda Accord to her and took a flight back earlier this week. She has been gracious enough to let me use it. I kept the details minimal about my night with Phoenix, and she didn’t push. She did raise her eyebrow when I said I wanted to go see Asher. I’m not fooling her. She declined to come along. She said Mike was picking her up for a real date. Good for her. He must have been more impressive than she let on. It seems we both might be hiding a few things.

  Honestly, I just need to reestablish my connection with Phoenix. He called on Thursday to see how I was doing, but that was it. I know he went down to Atlanta to celebrate their new record deal. I’d be lying if I say I wasn’t just the tad bit jealous. Did he fuck somebody else this weekend? He said he wouldn’t. That our arrangement was exclusive, but at this point, do we still have an arrangement? I don’t want to come off as clingy, but I need reassurance that nothing has changed. I need to feel him out. How will he act when he sees me? I guess I’m going to find out because I’m pulling into the driveway now.

  “Harlow? How did you get here?” Asher says when I walk into the living room. Shock registers on Phoenix’s face as he turns to look at me from the couch. He has his feet propped up, looking at football.

  “Irelyn has her car now, so I drove,” I reply. “Sorry. The door was unlocked, so I let myself in.”

  “Oh, hush. This is your second home. I do wish you would have called, though,” he says. “Lily is in town for a week. I was heading to pick her up from the airport, and we were going grab a bite before I brought her back here to meet the guys. Well, they’re out right now except for Phoenix. You can come with me if you want. I do want you to meet her.”

  “No worries. Don’t change your plans. I’m not going to be a third wheel. You guys need the alone time. I’ll be here when you get back. I want to meet her too,” I assure him.

  “Are you sure?” He looks doubtful.

  “Yes. This is my second home, remember? Go. I’ll be here.”

  “Well, in that case, see you in a few hours.” He hugs me and waves bye to Phoenix, who hasn’t said a word. Once Asher is out the door, I go over and sit ne
xt to him.

  “Hi,” I say as I smile at him. He looks over at me and smiles back.

  “Hello, Harlow.” He grabs the remote next to him and starts to scroll through the guide. “I guess it’s just you and me, huh?”

  “I guess so.” I watch as he stops on a recording of Elementary. “You didn’t have to turn off your football.”

  “Meh. It’s just something to watch. My Cowboys aren’t playing today, so it’s no big deal.”

  “Well, okay then.” It has been a while since I had a chance to just veg out and watch my shows.

  “Have you seen this episode?” he asks as he highlights the oldest recording.

  “No. Looks like I’ve missed a lot.” I laugh.

  “Well, we do have the afternoon.” He grins. He lies down and stretches out on the sofa. He pats a spot next to him that he has made. I don’t know how to react. He wants me to lay with him. This is yet another layer of Phoenix. This is not my “let’s fuck and have an arrangement” guy. Unless this is leading to that—like “Elementary and Chill” coined from “Netflix and Chill.” I laugh.

  “What’s funny, woman? Get over here.” He motions again for me to join him. I’ll play along. I lie down next to him, and he pulls me closer into his arms. I melt into him, but something is off. I can’t put my finger on it. Maybe I’m just pessimistic, but his explanation of the type of relationship we would have left no room for doubt. He was clear, and this is not it. Maybe since we’ve shared our first scene, as he called it, he has had a change of heart, and this is the only way he knows to show it.