Chapter Six
I’m still feeling slightly dazed after the monumental ... thing that just happened to me when I hear the lead singer of the band down below say, “Hey, Magic Man, we know you’re out there. Come on up and help us out. We want to wrap our sound around some of your sweet riffs.”
“Stella,” Kade says. “The very last thing I want to do right now is leave you. But I told them I’d join in for a couple songs. It won’t take that long.”
The crowd is chanting and the place is jam-packed by this point, I notice now. I listen to what they’re chanting. Magic Man. Magic Man. Magic Man.
“Are you Magic Man?” I ask him.
He shrugs. “It’s a nickname that’s stuck for some reason.”
Magic Man. They’re not kidding.
“No one will bother you,” he says. “I’ll make sure of it.”
He seems stressed about that point and I’m not sure why he would be. “It’s fine. I’ll wait right here.”
Kade looks torn, but he stands—and I’m reminded again of how tall he is, and how big. How ridiculously built . His body is hard and sculpted, and his jean shirt strains at the seams. He leaves me, making his way down the small staircase and past the three bouncers that are standing there. The crowd is basically going insane, cheering and pounding on tables.
It seems clear that they’re all here for him .
Kade Tucker.
The name does sound familiar. I feel like I’ve heard of him, and this must be why.
My phone lights up with another message. Theo. I’m actually surprised he’s being so persistent. When we were dating, he spent most of his time distracted and immersed in the existential angst of Dostoyevsky or whatever. Just wanted to make sure you’re okay. And to see if you’ve changed your mind. Call me.
No, Theo, I haven’t changed my mind.
Especially after the cataclysmic shift my life has just taken.
I just had my very first orgasm.
In a bar.
This feels like a huge deal, after all those times I’ve wondered if there was something wrong with me or if I was doomed to live out my life in the zone of the incapable-of-getting-turned-on and only-woman-in-the-world-who’s-never -been -there.
I’ve imagined what it might be like, of course I have. Practically on an hourly basis.
What Kade just did to me was ... not even in the same ballpark. It was far, far more intense, by a magnitude of around a trillion.
His promise that things only get better without clothes on is both daunting and ... something I need to find out about.
I want to have sex with Kade Tucker.
I’m going to cash in my V card with the Magic Man.
Tonight. If he lets me.
No one tells you a single orgasm changes everything. Not just your body but your entire outlook. I feel insanely happy . I’m not sure why I would. I just broke up with my boyfriend, I’ve gone AWOL from my life, I’m in a strange city on a rainy night and chances are I’m about to go home with and possibly finally lose my virginity to a guy I met on the street an hour ago.
And I can’t ever remember feeling as happy as I do right now.
Maybe it’s the endorphin rush. All that serotonin pumping its magic formula through my veins, changing the alchemy of my body and soul. Weirdly, the feeling reminds me of a book I read once (okay, more than once) where the people change into vampires and when they do, their blood forges into a different substance altogether.
That’s how I feel right now.
But instead of changing into a vampire, I’m changing into ... an addict . I feel wildly needy for more of the things Kade Tucker can freaking do.
Would you listen to yourself, Stella? You’re going crazy.
Yes.
My blood feels hot.
It wasn’t enough. I want more. Not just eventually or occasionally. Now. I want to act on all my basest urges and make up for lost time. I feel my heartbeat where my inner muscles still pulse and in the tips of my breasts.
The band plays a chord. Then Kade starts up with a solo on his bass guitar that ... okay, I’m really starting to wonder if Nashville is actually a portal into another space-time continuum. One where super-hot alphas hand out orgasms on request and play country-rock music that’s not just the most talented-sounding thing I’ve ever heard, but downright panty-melting.
Holy shit , he’s good.
Girls are squealing and crying, standing as close to the stage as security will allow, yelling to him. They love him. They want to marry him and have his babies.
A low flash of heat thuds through my chest. It takes me a second to identify it but, God, I think it might be ... jealousy?
He’s mine, is what I’m thinking. Which is sort of ludicrous.
But I can’t help myself. He’s going to take me back to the spare apartment that shares a balcony with his apartment. I’m the one who’s going to tell him why I came to Nashville because sometimes when you talk about things with a person who’s good listener and who cares, the things that used to hurt don’t hurt quite so much anymore.
I found him on the street in the pouring rain.
And I’m the one who’s going to find out if orgasms without clothes on are even better than the one that’s still pumping its dopamine rush through my hyper-aware and practically-in-love-with-him system.
I listen to him play and I’m more awed by him with each dizzyingly agile note he plucks. He’s clearly a genius at this. The song finishes and the crowd goes wild for half a minute before the lead singer of the band asks Kade to sing one of his new songs, which Kade has to be talked into as the crowd cheers him on. I watch and listen in spellbound fascination. He looks like a slightly roughed-up Greek god dressed in double denim. His voice is husky and layered and so damn beautiful my eyes sting because there’s something deeply emotional about it all. His music isn’t just loaded with his own flair, it’s touching . And heartfelt. It hits you right where you live.
It’s hitting his audience where they live too, because the wall of fangirling women is starting to overwhelm the row of beefy security men, they’re that rabid.
Shit. This looks dangerous. The fans are going to rush the stage. The bouncers are struggling to hold them back.
Kade sees it happening. And just as they breach the line, Kade has already slung his guitar over his head. He drops it and jumps off the side of the stage, pushing his way through the crowd to get to the guarded staircase that leads to our private table. They’re clawing at him but he’s bigger and strong enough to push past them. He disappears for a few seconds, then he’s suddenly here.
He grabs my hand and my bag, along with his hat and our coats, and pulls me toward a narrow hallway that’s behind our little alcove. “Time to go, darlin’.”
The crowd is screaming from below and there’s a thundering noise as they start pushing past the guards and swarming up the stairs.
Holy fuck.
Kade pulls me along with him, rushing down a back staircase and out a door, where an expensive-looking but nondescript car with tinted windows is waiting for him in the back alley. Kade opens the door and carefully pushes me inside, sliding in next to me as he slams the door. The driver peels out, like he knows the drill and does this all the time. I look behind us through the back window and I can see the crowd spilling out of the bar’s back door.
“Wow,” I gasp.
“You all right, honey?” Kade asks me, drawing his thumb gently against my bottom lip. Like he did before. Like this is something he does now. It’s calloused and slightly rough and reminds me of what he can do with his hands. All the things he can do with those hands. Magic Man.
I still can’t believe what just happened. “That was so crazy.”
“I was hoping things might be a little more low-key tonight but no such luck.”
I suddenly need more information. “Who are you? What’s the name of your band?” And what do they do if they catch him when they rush him like that? It’s terrifying to even think about.
“The Tucker Brothers Band,” he says. “Have you heard of us?”
“The Tucker Brothers Band? Of course I’ve heard of you.” They’re one of the few country bands who cross over into mainstream rock ‘n roll and get played on all the major radio stations. “Kade Tucker ?” Everything finally clicks. I don’t know why I didn’t make that connection before, except maybe because my mind was focused on other things and I wasn’t expecting this. He’s a superstar. They’re one of the biggest bands in the world right now. They’re played on the major rock and pop stations even though their music skews country because their songs are catchy and popular. They’re a phenomenon that transcends genre and I remember reading somewhere that their music “appeals to everyone with a heartbeat.” The line was memorable.
Before I can fully process that my alpha dreamboat savior is one of the hottest rock stars on the planet, the car slows to a stop near a building with a large arched doorway and a steel high-tech-looking door.
Kade opens the car door. “This is us.” Still holding my hand, he helps me out of the car. He swipes a key card against the lock of the steel door, which clicks open. It’s like some kind of fortress, but I guess I can understand now why he needs that.
We go inside and the door closes with a heavy thud, followed by a series of clicking sounds as the complicated security system bolts us in.
The foyer area is made of gold and black marble and has two elevators, on opposite sides. He pushes the button for the one on the left and the doors slide open.
I follow him into the elevator. Time seems slow-moving and heavy with dizzying, star-dusted anticipation. We’re alone, sealed into our own little bubble, and his nearness is making me feel reckless. He’s so much bigger than I am, looming and gorgeous, radiating his raw, heady masculinity. “You sure you’re all right, honey?”
“I’m fine. Are you all right? They were grabbing you.”
“Couldn’t catch me, though.” Grinning, like it was no big deal.
“Does that happen to you a lot?”
“We don’t usually let them get that close. I didn’t know it was going to be so packed out tonight. I thought maybe because it was just me, things might be calmer.”
“They all wanted a piece of you,” I whisper, because it’s crazy, that I’m here , in Nashville with him, one of the most famous people in music that half of humanity wishes was theirs.
He leans closer. Angling his head just slightly, his mouth is close to mine and I can smell his scent again, of cool rain and Nashville dreams. His eyes are the color of the tropical ocean on a sunny day. “I don’t really care about them wanting a piece of me,” he says, his voice low and sexier than anything has ever been. “What I do care about is if Stella Bell wants a piece of me.”
Before I can attempt to breathe or answer him, the elevator doors slide open.
Still holding my hand, he smiles and leads me into ... whoa . The place is unbelievable. It’s huge and open-plan, with gigantic windows running the length of the to-die-for apartment. The city below twinkles colorfully, glowing with the oily tones of the rainy night, which are reflected in the wide, smooth expanse of the river in the distance.
The kitchen runs the length of the right side of the room. It has marble countertops, state-of-the-art appliances and an enormous island. There’s a bar further along with glass pendant lights running the length of it and cow-hide bar stools. A long dining room table next to the window could seat an army. Beyond that, there’s a lounge area with a huge square U-shaped leather couch. A TV hangs against an exposed brick wall that’s the size of a movie screen. Outside the wall of cedar folding doors at the far end is a patio with swanky outdoor furniture, strings of decorative light bulbs, a spot-lit hot tub and a pool.
“Wow,” I hear myself gasp. “Is this your sister’s apartment?”
“No, this one’s mine.”
Along the wall by nearer end of the dining room table, there are six framed silver vinyl records and a built-in shelf with eight statues of golden horns. I walk closer to get a better look at one of the framed records. The Tucker Brothers Band. “Are these ... platinum?”
“Our second and third albums went double platinum and the fourth is close to matching that.”
“What are these statues?”
“Those are Grammys.”
I stare up at him but he just blinks and does that thing again where he mesmerizes me with the color of his eyes and the sweep of those eyelashes that are blond-tipped and longer than any man’s have a right to be.
Kade’s thumb slides along my jaw. “I’m just going to tell it like it is, little unicorn girl. I’ll take you to the other apartment if you want me to—it’s just on the other side of the balcony out there. But what I really want to do is to pick up where we left off before things got out of control tonight. I want to peel off those damp clothes and taste every inch of that soft, perfect skin. I want to show you—really show you—what all the fuss is about. Both of those things you were wondering about. All of it. I want to enlighten the hell out of you all night long and all day tomorrow and maybe even the day after that until you’re addicted to all the things I can do. I want to make you feel so damn good you might even fall in love with me. But I’m not going to rush you.”
Is this real?
Like hell he’s rushing me. I’ve waited my whole life for this moment and I don’t want to wait a single second longer. He’s better than any Kindle fantasy. Even my very favorite writers haven’t been able to conjure up a man who looks, talks, swaggers, sings or plays the goddamn bass guitar like Kade Tucker can. Or who gives little swoony speeches that are the most romantic thing you’ve ever heard. Slowly—because I don’t want to jar myself out of what I’m still convinced might be a beautiful dream—I stand on my toes to touch my lips to his. I gasp lightly because he’s overwhelming me, already, with his man-scent and the promise of all the brutal strength contained in those big, flexing muscles. “I don’t want to go to the other apartment. I want to stay here with you.”
It’s all the invitation he needs.
Kade’s hand slides around the nape of my neck and squeezes gently in a way that communicates his power over me. Under his protective kindness lurks a dark, dominant possessiveness. As his mouth eases over mine, there’s an edge to him. A hot, dirty volatility that I can taste as his tongue slides over mine in a silky, intimate plunge. A wave of soft, sexy warmth floods my entire body.
I’ve kissed other men before. Trying to feel something. It always felt sort of messy and overly-intimate and not particularly appealing. At the time I thought it was just me, doing things wrong like I always do.
This kiss is something else altogether. Kade doesn’t just kiss. He feasts on my mouth like he’s already inside me. There’s a deep, darkly-playful enthusiasm to his kiss, like he’s thinking the filthiest thoughts imaginable while his heart breaks with need.
Each thrust of his tongue pushes a new wave of lust through my body and I suck lightly on his tongue, trying to draw the drugging taste of him deeper. He makes a low, rasping groan like an animal growl and my inner muscles clench on a needy emptiness. I’ve never been so turned on in my life. My own hunger feeds on his until we’re both in a quiet frenzy of hot need.
He’s so gorgeous and so damn good at this, all I want to do is get closer.
And I don’t question it.
For maybe the first time in my life, I’m not second-guessing. I’m just feeling . Because everything about him feels so good.
Kade lifts me easily, and it sends a thrill of anxious excitement through me. He’s so damn strong. “Time for phase one of the enlightenment process,” he says.
I don’t care that I only just met him. I want him. He’s mine . I wrap my arms and legs around him and kiss him again. He’s huge and warm and— oh God . I can feel the immense, rock-hard ridge of his arousal against me as he holds me. Jesus , he’s big . “I want to see if you were telling the truth.”
“About what?”
“If it gets even better.”
“Oh, I was telling the truth, honey pie. But it’s best if you judge for yourself.” Kade carries me down a hallway that I vaguely notice is lined with framed pictures of him and his band, awards they’ve won and posters of their concert tours.
His room is palatial, with a wooden ceiling, a king-sized bed and a few sparse pieces of chunky furniture. The place hardly looks lived in.
He lays me onto his bed, crouching over me, holding his weight with his muscular arms so his long body is almost touching me.
Lying here in this darkened room with him, I’m still aware of my own ... inexperience. “I don’t know how to do anything,” I tell him. “I mean, I’ve read a lot of books, but I’ve never actually done ... well, anything. Just so you know.”
Kade laughs softly. His eyes are watching mine and they’re careful and so vividly blue. “You’re already better than anyone I’ve ever met. And we haven’t even gotten started.”
He’s hot and rugged. He’s also sweet . “I’m not usually in the habit of going home with people I’ve just met.”
“Me either,” he says. “And I’ve already decided that I’m going to be completely straight up with you. I haven’t always been honest with everyone I’ve known and it makes things more complicated than they need to be. So I’m going to lay it all on the line with you. I think you’re someone I’ve been looking for. That means you’re getting everything.”
Everything? What does that mean? Fascinated by the burly strength of his body, I touch my hands to his flexed biceps.
The old me wouldn’t have dared. The new me has a mind of her own. “Bring it on, Magic Man,” I whisper.
The fire in his eyes flares and I’m aware of a sense of my own power. He’s craving this as much as I am. Heat pours from his body in waves, I can feel it in the blazing space between us.
He lowers himself, pressing the full weight of his body against mine. The hardness of him is astounding. The rigid, colossal swell of his gigantic erection presses against me, demanding my body soften and cradle him. He grinds against my hyper-sensitive nub, slippery from his effect and the orgasm he already gave me. The pleasure is surreal, blooming in a furtive swell where his big cock, through the layers of our clothing, presses with measured forcefulness. “I’m going to start by peeling off your clothes because I want to see you and taste every inch of your sweet perfection. I’ll take it as slow as you need, darlin’. You tell me if I’m going too fast or if it’s too much or if you’re scared. Okay?”
“Okay.”
Kade takes my mouth in a lewd, brain-demolishing kiss. Then he stares into my eyes. “We’re taking this fast,” he says, “and there’s no reason to slow it down when we want it this much and it feels this fucking good. But I want you to know that you’re safe with me. I’m going to make sure I don’t hurt you by getting you nice and ready for me. I’m big and rough and you’re going to take all of me, because I’ll make you feel better than anything ever has. Are you ready for me, darlin’?”
Wow.
He’s cocky as hell. And he has at least one gigantic reason to be. “Yes.” I gasp. It might be the truest word I’ve ever spoken.
“Good girl.” Kade’s hands peel off the top layers I’m wearing with ease.
He unclasps my bra and pulls it off.
Kade stares down at me with a quiet, hungry awe. “Gorgeous little Stella,” he murmurs. He takes my breasts in his warm, rough hands, rubbing his thumbs over my nipples. The flick of his calloused fingertips sends darts of zinging sensation from my nipples to the low pit of my stomach. And lower. The strikes of his hot breath against my skin make the taut buds tighten. He sucks my nipple into his mouth and I moan, nearly weeping with pleasure. His teeth scrape and his tongue laves against the underside of the sensitive peak and I’m almost there . The wave is cresting and it’s crazily intense. It’s going to change my life.
The pulls of his mouth are greedy and sublime. He releases my nipple, moving to the other one, which he kisses and suckles. “You want it bad, don’t you, sweet Stella?” His voice is growly and deep. “I’m going to give you everything you need, I already promised you that. By the end of the night, you’ll hardly recognize yourself. Tonight you’re mine.”
Oh, God.
He peels my leggings down, his thumbs catching the lace of my panties, yanking them off, until I’m completely naked. He’s still fully clothed and it feels unbalanced. And hot as hell . I’m totally at his mercy, vulnerable and exposed. Slick and lightly swollen, pulsing with my need for him.
“Jesus Christ. You’re too damn beautiful for words.”
Piper talked me into getting completely waxed not too long ago. Some of the guys on the hockey team were saying their girlfriends had done it, and Dillon mentioned it to Piper so she’d wanted to surprise him. She dragged me along for moral support and convinced me to get it done at the same time.
So here I am, bare and pink and more wet and turned on than I’ve ever been in my life. His fingers trace over my slippery, delicate folds, exploring me, opening me, dipping barely inside. He glides his fingers over the lips of my pussy, squeezing them between his straightened fingers as his other thumb skates over my clit. I gasp for breath, because I’m going to come if he keeps doing that. I need more of him like I need air. Kade knows this. He’s doing it on purpose. He can tell that I’m on the high precipice of a profound, earth-shattering climax. But he’s not going to let me get there, not yet. Watching my eyes, he holds his hand up. His fingers are gleaming with my juices. God. He raises them to his mouth and sucks the moisture, licking his fingers with a reverent but feral glow in his blue-on-blue eyes. “I knew it. My unicorn girl is made of nectar.”
He pushes my thighs wider and I let them fall open. I want him to see me. I want to offer myself to him.
Kade’s eyes darken, reading this. His head lowers, his warm hands bracing my thighs, aggressively pushing them further apart.
And then I feel his mouth . Long, slow, delicious licks that delve and taste me. Eating into me. “ Oh, fuck ,” he groans, “I’ve found nirvana.”
He nuzzles and feasts like he’s starved.
He’s dirty as hell. His mouth sucks and licks messily. His tongue and his fingers dip and explore, everywhere , plunging and tasting. The stubble of his beard is rough and his tongue is velvet-soft and the combination makes me whimper because a gigantic bloom of pleasure is rising inside me. I grab fistfuls of his hair. I need an anchor. I need to keep him there.
“You taste so fucking good, baby girl,” he growls.
His tongue begins to circle my clit, teasing but not yet touching it. His fingers gently pinch the hood of my clit while at the same time gently pulling, exposing the little nerve bundle to his voracious mouth. He licks my clit, flicking it with his tongue as he slides two curled fingers inside me, silkily rubbing some insanely sensitive spot as his mouth latches and sucks hard, tipping me over into a tidal wave of pleasure.
I come so hard I see stars. My body quivers and writhes as I moan his name. My pussy clenches tightly, over and over, milking his fingers in rhythmic pulls.
Kade’s mouth gentles but he doesn’t disengage. He just keeps on licking and sucking, spinning my orgasm out further, sending jolts of electric bliss from my clit to my belly, all the way to my fingers and toes.
When the ripples begin to calm, he licks my pussy gently, like he can’t get enough. “You’re the sweetest goddamn thing I ever tasted,” he murmurs, kissing his way up my stomach, sucking on one nipple, then the other, giving my orgasm another little hit with the clever swirls of his tongue.
“Kade?” I feel lust-drugged. “Come here.”
He climbs up and holds himself over me, kissing my lips. I can taste myself and it’s the most intimate thing. “You’re going to have to get used to me doing that twenty-four-seven, honey pie, because I just found my happy place.”
I don’t know if it’s a rare thing for a man to clearly love doing what Kade Tucker so thoroughly just did to me. I think it might be. And it’s the kind of detail that makes me want to wrap myself around him and keep him. To stay in his bed and live with him every day and night just so he can do that again whenever he wants to. It’s the kind of thing a girl could get addicted to very, very easily.
My fingers touch the button of his shirt. “Take this off.”
He straddles me, holding his weight, and pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it aside. Whoa. He’s buff as hell, his chest and shoulders hard and sculpted. His skin is darkly tanned and warm-looking. There’s a dusting of hair on his chest.
I let my fingers explore the remarkable textures of him. The toned, brutal hardness. I’ve never been so fascinated by anything as I am by Kade Tucker’s big, bronzed, ripped body.
My fingers rove over the defined, quilted muscles of his abs.
To the dark arrow line of hair that leads tantalizingly under the low-slung waistline of his worn jeans.
His eyes are watching mine almost challengingly. Do it.
To the cool metal of his belt buckle.
My fingers delicately glide over the insanely huge ridge inside his jeans. My God . It’s daunting. Will it hurt?
“I won’t hurt you,” he says, and I wonder how he’s able to read my mind like that. I explore the outline of his hot, swollen shaft through the layer of his clothing. I feel him surge, and grow even bigger. Hotter. Harder. “You ready for me to worship you and take you higher than you’ve ever been, darlin’?”
Oh my God. “Yes, ” I whisper.
He unbuckles and unzips his jeans, freeing his— holy freaking hell! —engorged, gigantic cock. I mean, the thing is ... massive. A giggle escapes me. Seriously, it’s like a goddamn work of art. Dusky and silky, with ridged veins along its thick length. The smooth, rounded head is broad and hot-looking, leaking a slick of milky moisture. I’ve never been up close and personal with anything like this and it’s powerful. It’s a strange thing to think about, but his cock is not only impressive as hell ... it’s beautiful. It’s what womankind was put on this earth to crave, and the sight of him does something to me. It lights a fire of need inside me that’s shockingly intense. My mouth waters and the wet, pulsing warmth of my core clenches lightly. I need it.
Kade notices my wide-eyed awe. “Don’t be scared of me, darlin’.”
I’m not scared. But I’m wondering how it’s going to ... fit .
“Don’t worry, it will.”
“Can I ... touch it?”
He exhales a low laugh. “You can do any damn thing you want to it, sweetheart.”
I touch my fingers to the wetness, smoothing it over the silky surface of his hot crown. Wow. My new obsession. My fingers squeeze gently and another gush of moisture seeps from the slit. Watching his eyes, like he did to me, I bring my fingers to my mouth. And I lick his essence. It’s salty and earthy and my new favorite thing.
His eyes are as dark as blue embers. “Right, you’re asking for it now, baby.” He pushes his jeans lower and kicks them off.
My knees are pushed wider.
He takes his big cock in his hand and rubs the crown against my slippery pussy. Oh, Jesus. My inner muscles spasm softly, my body inviting him inside. I’m not coming again—yet—but his cock is like a magic freaking wand. The slow glide of the broad head of his cock against me is feeding a wild rush of pleasure into my body.
“ Fuck , baby,” Kade growls. “I want you like this. I want to be inside you with nothing between us. You feel too damn good.”
“I’m on the pill,” I gasp.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ve never done it bareback before,” he says, groaning another low oath as the head of his slippery cock parts my intimate folds.
I don’t know why this surprises me. Or why it surprises me that I’m the one this beautiful, world-famous, well-hung AF magic man wants to start with . Not even with her? I feel like asking him. But I don’t. I understand why. He said he didn’t love her, at all, even though he tried to.
And I do want him like this. I don’t bother analyzing why both of us are willing to get closer to each other after only a few hours than all the people that came before, even with relationships and reality and familiarity thrown into the mix. It doesn’t matter. All that matters is taking him inside .
I barely arch up to him, causing the head of his cock to open me and press against my clit. Oh. I am this close to coming already, and all he’s done is touch me.
“You want me to fuck you real good, baby?” He presses his cock more strongly against me. We’re so hot and wet that the thick head of his cock glides easily into the tight constriction of my body. “ Hell . You feel like heaven.” His words are slurred with husky heat.
He doesn’t wait for me to answer him. My body is answering him, arching and opening, quivering with anticipation. He pushes his big cock deeper, the stretching, slippery friction forcing a pleasure-pain overload that’s way too much. He’s so big and so thick, as he slides deeper, his cock rubs against my clit while at the same time rubbing against some wildly sensitive trigger inside me. It’s happening. It hurts , but the pain only takes the pleasure he’s feeding me with his body even higher. I’m tight but so wet, the stretching, slippery friction reaches a high peak, then shatters into an excruciating wave of nearly-unendurable pleasure. I’m moaning his name as my inner muscles clench hard and tight around him, over and over, drawing him deeper as he thrusts into each spasm. My body milks his drives lusciously until he’s deep, deep inside me.
It’s too much.
He’s huge and I can feel every inch of him, stuffing me hotly as my body draws him deeper. He’s pressing against my womb. More than pressing. Coming. He groans and his gigantic cock erupts inside me. The bucking spasms of his release caress everything . Hot jets of his cum coax another wave of ecstasy and I come hard— again , before I’d even stopped coming the first time. Higher, this time. Harder. Will I survive this? The rush of pain-provoked pleasure is too damn good.
The waves are long and lush, gripping him, again and again, as his orgasm pumps his hot seed deep inside me.
We’re locked in to our quiet frenzy for a long time, until the ripples begin to calm.
We’re both breathing hard, gripping each other as our slick, secret bond throbs and spills. He’s gazing down at me, smoothing a strand of my hair back from my face. I can feel a trickle of moisture where I’m overflowing with his cum.
I just lost my virginity to a buff, beautiful almost-stranger and I think I might already be in love with him. After years of wondering what it feels like, I’ve just had three or four of the most intense experiences of my life and I’m still coming. I don’t ever want him to pull out. I want to stay right here with him for the rest of time.
He half-grins at me. It’s a look that’s both hot and sweet and I really can’t believe that I’ve found him, this perfect man who’s starting to make me come again just with the look of him. “Well, it’s official,” he murmurs. “Nothing has ever felt as good as you feel, sweet Stella Bell.” His voice is low and edged with that awe that we’re both feeling. “That right there is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
“You were right.” It is even better without clothes on.
His smile widens. I love the natural-looking whiteness of his teeth. The crinkles at the edges of his deep-ocean eyes. The blazing masculinity of everything about him. “Told you.”
Carefully, he rolls us onto our sides, gripping me so he stays inside me. He pulls my thigh higher with his warm hand and I wrap my leg around him. We lay like that for a while, just staring into each other’s eyes. It’s outrageously connective. The quiet, calming effect of him and the thickening of his cock as he starts to get hard again are the only things I care about.
He runs the backs of his fingers along my cheekbone. “You’re so damn pretty.”
I notice then that he has a tattoo of musical notes running down the inside of his tanned lower arm. I run my finger along his skin, tracing the notes. “What song is this?”
“My favorite song. I wrote it for our third album.”
“What’s it called?”
“It’s called Unicorn Girl.”
I’m not sure why my chest suddenly feels tight. With ... disappointment, maybe. He must call all his women that. Maybe we’re all unicorns to him.
He reads my expression, smoothing the furrow between my eyebrows with his thumb. “Do you want to hear the lyrics?”
“Okay.”
“It goes like this.” Kade starts to sing and the sound of his voice makes me basically fall cataclysmically in love with him, it happens that fast. Or maybe it already happened, hours ago when I first saw him on the street in the pouring rain. Now, it digs deeper. His voice has that smooth husk to it, deep and layered and perfectly in tune.
I look for her in the faces of the crowd and in every stranger’s smile
Every country road, every city mile
I search for her in every golden sunrise and in the purple dusk
Always hoping she’ll turn up
For now, my unicorn girl is made of dreams
I fall to my knees
I beg you, lover, please
Show up for me
After he finishes the last note, he says, “She hated that song.” She. Carmen, I guess he means. There’s a lot of gravity in his expression. A soulful insinuation. “Because she was never the one and we both knew it.”
He was waiting for me. But it’s too much to grasp for. Too big a leap to make. It’s crazy to think that he and I are somehow star-crossed lovers who have been searching for each other all along and have now finally found each other after a random meet-cute on a rainy night.
The craziest thing of all is that it’s exactly how this feels.