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“Fuck every part of you without restraint?” I murmured into her ear, licking the faint marks I left on her creamy, pale skin.
“Please,” she begged, clenching her hands into my sweaty tee.
“Good,” I snarled, turning her mouth to mine and crushing her soft flesh in a tangle of lips and tongues.
She moaned into my mouth, and my blood stopped running.
Screw waiting for the first sound when I fucked her, I was already done. Tearing at my jeans, I fisted my cock bare beneath the black denim, my free hand tugging and pinching her nipple frantically. Her kisses softened beneath my onslaught, her lips parting to take the furious lust ripping through me.
“Perfect,” I groaned, torturing her breasts with alternate pinches and pulls.
Indi writhed where I pinned her to the door, her body undulating against mine. I pushed her skirt up, rubbing my cock between her thighs and encountered bare flesh.
“Jesus, fuck,” I cursed, not at all softly, shoving two fingers deep in her slicked, hot pussy.
“Xoan,” she whimpered, her eyes fluttering, her head tipping back. Her wild movements slowed, until her hips jerked in time with my fingers.
Grinding the heel of my hand against her clit, I worked her soft body hard, unrelenting. If she couldn’t take what I gave her now, she’d shatter in a few moment’s time. I didn’t fuck nice or sweet, using the girl before me to lift the fraying edge of my energy to something unbelievable.
Indi would be the pinnacle of all. I knew that the moment my mouth claimed hers. Our energies ran together, twisting and melding, but not fighting. Fisting my cock, I tore open the first condom left on a side table, rolling the rubber on and notched at her entrance.
Then I slammed straight home. Indi froze for a long moment as her body took the brutal intrusion.
No sweet words, no asking permission. We covered that ground before, and now I needed to use the softness she gave me against my ragged edges. My hands found the soft contours at her hips, sliding back to grip her ass cheeks and pull them apart as I railed her, lifting her feet from the ground. Her boots banged the backs of my thighs as I hoisted her, and I caught one knee to sling it around my waist.
She got the idea, climbing me while my rhythm never stopped, tying her arms and legs around me in unbreakable knots. Breaths shuddered between us as I fucked her hard and fast, gripping handfuls of plump ass hard enough to bruise.
Her first release bore her onto me, like she had my hand a second before. She screamed a little, those dark blue eyes wide, looking through me, beyond me.
Cursing freely, I pummelled her body with mine, jacking my hips deep, knowing her pleasure would also be mine.
Indi clamped around my cock a second time, her pussy contracting in a strangling grip, milking me. I groaned into her mouth, tangling my tongue with hers as she tried to kiss me back as she came. My balls emptied, shooting my cum into the latex sheath when I wanted to paint her insides, claiming her as my own.
I shuddered, resting my weight against her body as our breaths synced, slowing after a time. Indi stared right at me as our kiss broke, playing with my hair, her nails grazing the back of my neck, tracing over the scars hidden there where I never let anyone touch me.
But like wanting to ride her raw, something I never considered with anyone, letting her touch me didn’t seem so strange.
My energy dipped, and I sagged, pulling out and steadying her with a trembling hand before we both ended up on the floor.
Tying the condom off, I tossed it in the small bin at the back of the room, tucking myself in and zipping my jeans. “That was beautiful, Indi. Thank you.” I kissed her hard, taking perverse pleasure in the way her eyes flared, then rolled back a little.
I could do round fucking two with this girl, maybe three.
But I never went back for seconds.
Not with anyone.
And as tempting as it was to ask her to my next gig, have her wait in another small room in some arena for an encore performance, going back wasn’t good for me. I learned early in life that relationships hurt like fuck, and that small, brief pleasures chasing the highs were my best reward.
Cupping her face in my hands, I memorised every line in a blink, tracing my thumbs over her lips, savouring her scent. “Fucking perfect. I’ll never forget.”
That promise hung in the air while she kept the vow of silence I pressed upon her earlier, grabbing my guitar and its case, stuffing my notes inside.
She still stood there, the bottom curve of her breast visible beneath her rumpled top, her lips red and puffy. The leather skirt exposed creamy thighs still spread apart, one trembling hand pressed to the top of a torn stocking.
“Utter perfection.” I shoved my hair off my face and gave her a gentle push away from the door. “Maybe I’ll write a song about you.”
I slipped through the door as she clung to the wall, her face dozy and relaxed, her energy serene.
