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She might deny that she wants this, and she might worry about the repercussions like all of us, but none of us could stop this if we tried. We were foolish to think we could. There has been an electric connection between us all since the first moment we met.
It’s time I act on it and take what I want.
Her. The people’s rock princess.
Their idol.
Their icon.
Little do they know, their pretty, talented role model will be screaming in the back seat in moments.
“Say your goodbyes, Miss Harrow, like a good girl,” I purr in her ear, pretending to whisper important things. She shivers next to me, that fake smile faltering for a moment, but it’s enough to nearly make me cheer in victory.
She waves and says her goodbyes, and once she steps out on the red carpet, she poses for more pictures. I lick my lips, debating throwing her down right here and diving into that pretty pussy.
I bet she would let us because she would love it.
She’s only had a taste of Raff, but I see her tracking him like her next prey. We thought we were in control, but she’s ready to show us that’s completely wrong. Nobody controls Reign.
She’s ready to revolt.
“Reign, why are you leaving early?” a pap calls.
I smirk, covering it by turning to check behind me. I want to mock, “Yes, Reign, why are you leaving early? Is it because you’re so desperate to get your cunt licked?” but I don’t. I keep my gaze sharp, scanning every inch of the crowd. There’s movement that catches my eye—a man slipping back into the masses from the front—but I quickly move on since he’s not a threat.
She doesn’t answer, continuing to wave and sign autographs on the way to the car, making sure to stop for every fan who calls her name. They even have shirts with her face and logo on the front, and pride fills me. Our girl is a fucking rock star.
We finally reach the car, and Cillian helps her inside before climbing in after her. Smirking, Raff takes the passenger seat, winking at me as I slide in and shut the door.
I sit opposite her with my knees spread. She watches me carefully, wondering if I plan to follow through. I’ll teach our girl that I’m a man of my word and there is nothing more in this world that I want to eat than that pretty pussy so our girl will fall asleep satisfied, dreaming of me.
Taking off my jacket, I roll my sleeves back. She watches every move as the car pulls out into traffic. The windows are tinted, but we can’t be too careful. I might want her and want everyone to see, but I would never put her in jeopardy like that.
“Part those pretty thighs for me,” I tell her. Her eyes narrow as I grin. “I’m waiting, Miss Harrow.” I lower to my knees as we come to a stop sign. Crawling across the small space between us, I grip her heeled feet and throw them over my shoulders. “Didn’t want the suit jacket getting in the way.”
“Astro,” she warns.
I slide my hands up her silken thighs and almost come on the spot. I can’t even see them because of the dress, but they are the softest motherfucking things I’ve ever felt.
It’s like touching goddamn silk.
“I’ve wanted to taste your pretty pussy ever since you teased me with that strawberry and flashed it at me in the pool, so be a good girl and part them,” I tell her roughly. I need her cum more than I need to breathe.
I need to taste her on my tongue or I actually might die.
Someone could come up behind me right now and shoot me in the back and I still wouldn’t stop.
I push her dress up and to the side so I can get a clear view of that pretty, dripping pussy. It’s ripe for the picking and begging for my tongue. Her hand comes out to slap me away, but I catch it, kissing her pulse as she breathes raggedly.
“You can slap me if you want, darling. I promised to clean this wet, greedy pussy and that’s exactly what I plan to do. After all, we are here to serve you,” I purr.
Leaning back, she finally parts her thighs enough for me to scoot closer, and my hands grip her thick thighs, holding them prisoner. “Then serve me,” she demands haughtily.
Chuckling, I lean down and run my lips over one thigh. “Oh, I plan to. Let the others hear your screams, beautiful. Let everyone passing by hear you and wonder what’s happening in here. Fuck, let them call them cops, thinking you are being murdered.”
“You’ll have to make me, and right now, you’re all talk,” she retorts, but there’s a tremor of need in her voice that makes me smirk against her velvety skin.
Licking her tattoos, I slide my hands higher, pushing her thighs wider until I get my first look at her exposed clit and her pulsing, greedy hole, wanting to be filled. She’s so fucking wet for it, she’s practically already coming.
