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I’d experienced Heaven last night, and now I needed to taste it.
I flattened my tongue over her clit, and she lost control of her volume. Wide, diligent strokes over her bundle of nerves forced her to arch off the wall as pleasure seized her. The belt on her wrists held her firmly in place as I savored the intoxicating honey of her desire.
I sucked her into my mouth, nibbling gently on her clit. I licked away the pain from the bite, swiftly, like a starving beast with a last meal. She convulsed, thighs quaking, and cries reverberating off the white walls.
“Levi. Oh, fuck, Levi! Ah!”
Diana came on my tongue, screaming—no, singing. It was the most wonderful sound, and I needed to hear every note of her salacious song. I needed it so badly that even as she trembled and begged for me to stop, I continued tongue-fucking her, swallowing every drop of her climax.
The sweet songbird didn’t know it yet, but I was irrevocably hers, body and soul.
Twenty
As badly as I’d wanted to sink into her, I hadn’t brought a condom into the shower. Instead of fucking again, she’d stroked my cock while I gingerly washed her hair and lathered her body in scented soaps.
Looking back on it now, the ease of our silent intimacy under the water stunned me. Even when her gaze was sharp and her tongue dripped venom, some inner part of me yearned for Diana. Now that I’d had the pleasure of sleeping with her, a part of me would seek her out for the rest of my life.
I tossed my clothes back on while Diana dressed in a gray t-shirt dress, a black overcoat, and converse. She tried, but nothing hid the permanent smile brightening her face while we got ready for the day.
The sight of her gorgeous grin carried me in the air as we walked out to my car. After holding the passenger door open for her, I slid behind the wheel. In no time, the engine rumbled to life, and I steered toward my place.
“Want to grab breakfast on the way to my studio?” I asked, sliding my fingers over the console to hold her hand. My heart palpitated when she entwined our fingers without thinking twice.
“That sounds great. After last night, I’m starving,” she chirped back. Her thumb idly stroked over that back of my hand, and heat rose under my cheeks.
I’m fucking blushing.
“Anything you want, songbird.” I pulled her hand to my lips and pressed a kiss to her wrist. In the corner of my eye, I noticed her subtly squirming in the seat.
“Breakfast tacos?” she said.
“I know just the place.”
A quick drive-through, a bag full of tacos, and two coffees later, I parked outside my studio. Even as we walked toward the door, I kept her fingers firmly in mine. The thought of letting go caused an aching fissure to crack open inside my chest.
Eventually I released Diana’s hand. She went to the music room to set up for the day while I headed upstairs to change clothes. The studio apartment felt lifeless and bland without her presence at my side.
Dressed in a fresh black band t-shirt and dark jeans, I rushed back to her. A knotted rope in my chest pulled me step after step as if she held the other end and tugged me nearer.
We ate breakfast together, communicating what had to be completed by the end of the day. At the rate she was breezing through new lyrics, we’d finish our contract early.
Diana was an irrefutable genius.
When sitting next to one another, my thigh remained pressed to hers. Every time purple threads of hair fell into her face, I’d carefully brush them behind her ears. If she reached for something, I reached at the same time for the simple pleasure of feeling her fingers bump against mine.
Those astute green eyes missed nothing. She noticed halfway through the day that I was a needy mess, desperate to touch her. I’d hold out a finger or my hand for her and she’d graze her skin against mine, sending sparks over every inch of me.
Perhaps she felt the same. God, I hoped she did.
“I’ll finish the piano parts for the third song. Later today we can work out the guitar portions,” I announced, reluctantly rising from the studio couch.
Diana shot off the couch as if we were magnetically pulled to one another. “I’ll come with you. I could… maybe I could play the guitar,” she stammered through the suggestion.
My brows shot into my hairline and my lips split from ear to ear.
“Hell yes. Pick any one you want,” I exclaimed, gesturing with one hand at the wall.
Her pinky touched mine, and a timid curve lifted the corner of her lips. Then her head bobbed toward the wall of guitars. The light that shone from her eyes each time she looked at them rivaled the luminescence of the sun.
