AllFreeNovel
Share Us
That tone.
The rumble of her frustration finally unleashed the last barrier he’d held onto. He pulled out, then snapped his hips forward. Her head flew back as her cries spurned him on. Hard, relentless thrusts. The wet perfection of her pussy gripped him, urged him to return as soon as he left her.
He dragged the front of her dress down until it puddled around her middle, and his fingertips dug into her hips as he held her in place to take each thrust. She moved her hands behind her for leverage, pushing up against him. He leaned into her, taking first one nipple, then the other into his mouth.
With her back bowed and the slap of their bodies echoing in the room, they both raced for that elusive something. He dragged one hand up the middle of her breasts to her shoulders. He gripped the back
of her neck and drew her forward until they were flush.
Him still clothed, her skin against his. He hadn’t even gotten his pants all the way unbuttoned. But the friction seemed to be just what she needed. Her knees came up to his waist and her ankles crossed at the small of his back.
Face to face, he watched her eyes go opaque and the wordless O of her mouth just before her thighs quaked and her slick walls vised around him. She fell apart in front of him without a word, without a breath, just a tiny, cracking release with his name as her exclamation mark.
He followed, his hips slamming into her thighs, his orgasm following hers. An echo, a bassline reverb, and finally a duet as he hijacked her shudders and buried his face into her hair. He came so hard his periphery fuzzed and her welcoming warmth was an oasis he’d never hoped to find.
Thirteen
Bella dragged in greedy gulps of air. Her skin felt like she’d just held onto a live wire for ten seconds too long. Like she didn’t know that she should have put it down because it would flay each and every nerve ending.
Logan seemed to be in about the same state. A much more clothed one, but his chest was heaving like hers. And she was pretty sure she was wearing the edge of a trunk buckle on her left ass cheek. Which would match the finger imprints she would be sporting, as well.
Logan loosened his grip on her hips. She winced as he flexed against her thighs and his semi-hard cock stroked against her swollen tissues.
Live wire.
So appropriate. Even if her actions were anything but. On the stage, propped on a guitar trunk. Jesus, she didn’t even know where she’d flung her underwear. Or had Logan tossed them away?
All she knew is that her panties were currently somewhere to her left. Logan was still inside of her, his dark blond hair practically a halo thanks to the spotlight over his shoulder. Surely there had to be devil horns hidden under the hair. No man could, or should, know her body so intimately on the first try.
Or was it just the fact that they’d been building up to this for days?
Would he finally be out of her system now? Maybe now she could breathe and concentrate again. And just maybe, each time she closed her eyes, she wouldn’t see a pair of bottle green ones ready to devour her. Maybe his scent wouldn’t live inside of her head anymore.
He kissed up her neck and found her mouth. This time it was a soft and lingering touch. His fingertips coasted up her bare spine to her shoulder blades before slid his fingers into her hair.
She couldn’t fight the smile at his serious face. She thought she’d been thinking too loud, but it was nothing compared to the conversation going on in his head. Finally, he caressed her shoulders again, then drew the straps of her dress up. He dipped his head and swirled his tongue around each nipple before he covered them. She shuddered, alternately dreading the loss of him inside of her and longing to put this behind her.
Logan King was a lot for a woman to handle on a good day, let alone in the midst of the stresses of this festival.
She moaned as he reached between them, his knuckle brushing her stunningly sensitive clit. God, she’d had no idea there were that many orgasms living inside her, let alone unleashed during one crazed moment with him.
He slowly pulled his length from her and rubbed over her entrance one last time before he turned and took care of the condom. He walked behind the drum riser, and she heard the rustle of a tissue or napkin.
Felling exposed, she hopped off the trunk and let her skirt fall back down to cover her. Wrong move. Such a wrong move. Her thighs screamed as her knees wobbled. Her body felt empty, as if all sense of rightness had left with Logan.
She straightened her spine and walked it off. It was just good sex. She’d had good sex before.
Not like that.
She scowled at that thought. Okay, so she’d never had sex that good before. It was just chemistry and those guitarist fingers. He was trained to make a woman go cross eyed with lust that was all.
Logan came out from the back, and she kept on walking. She needed to go and freshen up. She needed to find her underwear—there they were—and burn them. Because there was no way she could put them on after being on the stage. There hadn’t been a live show yet, but it was still dirty and scarred by wheels and boots and equipment.
“Izzy.”
She stopped. “I just need to go…freshen up.”
He moved up behind her and pressed his cheek to hers. “You aren’t running away, are you?”
