“You’d make such a beautiful kit, Peaches. Let me play you.” He spins his sticks in either hand. “Close your eyes. I want you to hear the music.”
I take him in, not wanting to do what he says. It’s not everyday you get to watch your drummer use you as his kit, but after amoment, I lean back and rest my head on the couch, closing my eyes.
Next to me, Blake smooths his hand over my hair and brushes a kiss against my temple. And then Keaton begins tapping his sticks on me. He uses my thighs, then adds in my breasts and even nipples, then finally my clit. He’s so accurate with where he lands, and with how much pressure that it has my body singing to his beat.
It’s easy for me to hear the music he creates, each tap a building note, as if I’m the instrument he’s been fine-tuning for years. The rhythm starts slow, delicate even, like a whisper on my skin. His sticks glide over me, tracing my curves with the kind of ease that only comes from someone who’s mastered their craft. It’s not just music—it’s a performance. I feel every beat reverberate through me, like I’m part of the song he’s constructing.
Blake’s hand never leaves my hair, his touch grounding me as I sink deeper into the sensation. Nash kisses my neck, his breath warm against my pulse a steady counterpoint to Keaton’s growing tempo. My breath quickens, matching the pace, as Keaton’s drumming turns into something more intense, more intimate. The soft, teasing taps on my thighs shift, and now he’s exploring my body with a deeper, more deliberate touch.
“Do you feel it?” Keaton asks, his silky voice flowing over me sends a shiver down my spine, but I keep my eyes closed, allowing myself to fall into the rhythm of it all. The sound of his sticks against my skin creates a melody that only we can hear, a private symphony played out in quiet breaths and soft moans.
Every tap on my breasts, every flick of his sticks against my nipples sends electricity through me. He doesn’t miss a beat—each touch precise, like he’s been studying me for this moment alone. By the time he reaches my clit, my entire body isvibrating, tuned perfectly to his rhythm. His drumming isn’t just something to hear—it’s something I feel in my bones.
Blake’s lips press against my temple again, a silent reassurance that this moment is ours, shared between the four of us, but centered on me. I bite my lip as Keaton’s pressure on my clit increases; the beat becoming impossibly steady, precise, like he knows exactly how to make me unravel.
“You’re a natural, baby. You play so beautifully,” Nash says against my neck, his voice now thick with lust. I peek my eyes open and find him stroking his hard cock. I reach for him, wanting to take over, but he blocks me. “Not right now. You enjoy this.”
A soft moan escapes me, and I feel Blake’s smile against my skin, his fingers sliding to cradle my jaw, holding me steady as Keaton pushes me closer to the edge with every tap of his sticks.
Keaton chuckles under his breath, the sound deep and rough, filled with the kind of satisfaction that comes from having complete control. My body is singing, every nerve alight, and all I can do is submit to the music he’s creating with me.
Just when I think I can’t take any more, Keaton changes the rhythm, slowing his taps to something softer, almost teasing, pulling me back from the edge only to build me up again. It’s a slow, torturous symphony, and I know he’s enjoying every second of it.
“Keaton…” His name barely escapes my lips before he finishes me off with one final, sharp tap to my clit. He continues on as the music he’s creating crescendos, my body arching as I finally lose myself in it. Blake and Nash hold me steady as I come undone.
When I’m able to catch my breath, I open my eyes, tremors still rocking through my body, to find Keaton staring down at me with that self sure grin of his that I love. He rests his palm against my heart, his sticks pressed between us.Did you feel it? All the emotions I’m not able to say aloud?
He created a masterpiece for me, the flow of the rhythm, the ups and downs, the excitement of it—it was all a story he created for me. I reach my arms out for him, and he leans in, letting me drag him against me. Our kiss is passionate and deep, making me curl my toes against my shoes almost as hard as the orgasm.
“Yes, Keaton,” I pant against his lips. “I felt every word. You delivered your message perfectly.”
Relief rushes through me. I’m not sure what I’d do if Raina couldn’t understand me the way she does. This was the only way I could think to show her how I feel.
Words seem to choke me, suffocate me until I give up using them. It’s worse with us on tour and compounded with Darius constantly around us. I seem to have backtracked on speaking out loud, but I won’t let that stop me from communicating with my woman.
Raina is a goddess. Pure perfection. Absolute beauty. She’s my everything.
Honestly, I think I’m some kind of chump falling for her so damn quickly. But how could I not when she’s the perfect woman for me. I’m not sure if soulmates exist, but if they do, she’s mine.
The need to claim her has me in a death grip. I need to sink balls deep into her and fill her with my cum.
I hide my sticks under the couch, freeing my hands to run along her inner thighs, the guys holding her open so beautifully. She’s a work of art I’d never tire of staring at.
My thumbs tug on the skin on either side of her pussy, opening her so I can watch her pulse with another aftershock. She’s so fucking wet. I can’t wait to slide into her.
“Keaton.” She says my name with so much emotion. It’s a hiss and a moan at the same time. A begging plea.
“Peaches,” I tease, knowing exactly what she wants, but also needing to hear her more than ever.
“Tell us what you want, baby,” Nash whispers in her ear. Blake nips her at the same time on her other lobe, making her gasp.
“Fuck me, please.” Her eyes beg me to give her what she wants, and her arms reach for me, but I’m too far away. I grasp her hands in mine, holding them on her legs to keep my view clear.
“But what about your other boyfriends? We can’t forget about them.” I watch her face with amusement, taking in the way her eyes flick from one side to the other, trying to come up with an idea of how she wants to include them. This is all of our Valentine’s Day. We don’t get enough down time as it is, not to mention without Darius around.
“I… umm…” She licks her lips, and her blown out pupils fixate on my cock. It’s the only thing she can think about right now.
She’s stunning when she’s dick drunk. And she hasn’t even gotten it yet.What will she look like coming around me?
