26. Callie
26
CALLIE
PAST, ArtFusion Night Four
With one hand on the joint, he uses the other to grip my waist and guide me on top of him, so I’m straddling him with my knees on the couch.
The fabric of my sundress bunches where my hips and legs connect. The feel of his warm skin on mine—my inner thighs pressed to his outer thighs, his cock nudging my center—is enough to make my mouth fall open with a quiet gasp. He doesn’t take his eyes off me.
He brings the joint to his lips and slides his free hand from my waist, up my body to my neck. I watch the cherry glow red as he takes a drag, and then he removes the joint and pulls my face closer to his. The hand on my neck moves to cup my jaw, his thumb pulling my chin down, opening my mouth in a gesture that has lust shooting straight to my core and excitement making my head swim.
He leans close, his nose brushing mine as he opens his own mouth and breathes the smoke past my lips. His lips don’t touch mine, but his thumb doesn’t leave my chin, his fingers holding me close until I’ve inhaled his exhale. He tilts his head up, gazing at me as I release the smoke back into the air around us, and the smile he gives me leaves me feeling like I’ve won a prize. Like he’s praised me without words. Like a sold-out crowd full of adoring fans. Like a standing ovation at Barnum Hall. That’s what this smile from Torren King feels like .
He puts his lips on my jaw again, kissing his way to my neck and whispering words that sound like poetry in that same mysterious melody from before. Like fragmented song lyrics just for me.
“Firebird...make it all new...we’re just ashes in the end...”
His words sound like the beginning of something. Or the end, but god, I hope it’s the beginning. Without overthinking it, I reach for the hem of my dress, and he leans his head back on the couch to watch as I slowly strip it off and drop it on the cushion beside us. I’m not wearing a bra, so I’m straddling his lap in just a pair of cotton underwear, and his eyes caress my bare skin first before his hands finally follow. He brings the joint back to his lips, taking another drag as he trails the fingers on his other hand up my stomach and along the underside of my naked breast. My inhale is shaky as he circles my nipple with his calloused thumb, and his cock grows harder between my legs. Tentatively, I move my hips, and he hisses, pinching my nipple as smoke streams out between his teeth.
“Is this what you want?”
His question is a lazy rasp as his chest rises and falls more slowly than my own. His head still rests on the back of the couch, one hand still holding the joint as the other plays with my body. I nod. He shakes his head.
“You have to say it.” I move my body over him again, but his hand clamps on to my hip, stopping me. “Say it, and then I’ll let you play.”
“This is what I want,” I say finally, firmly , so he knows how serious I am, and he gives me a slow, sinful grin.
“Good girl.”
The hand clamped on my hip loosens but then guides my movements, so I’m grinding on him slowly, his hard cock pressing deliciously against my swollen clit. Then he surprises me by leaning forward and licking up my sternum before taking my nipple into his mouth. I gasp, and he bites, which makes me press down harder onto him. He lets out a low groan, and my core pulses with arousal in response.
“You burn so hot, don’t you?”
He whispers against the sensitive flesh of my breast before biting me again, this time following it with a hard suck that pulls a pained, needy cry from my lungs. His hips buck up into me, his hardness invading my softness, and my fingers sink into his hair in an effort to pull him closer. Torren thrusts upward while using the hand on my hip to pull me downward, my core hot and my panties drenched with my desire for him. Every pulse of pressure from his hard cock against my throbbing clit is paired with a bite or a suck on my breasts. Every zap of pleasure coupled with a sting of pain, the sensations lingering and mixing to create something heady and overwhelmingly intoxicating.
His hand leaves my hip and tangles in my hair, clutching at the roots near my nape, and then he tugs. I cry out as my face tilts toward the ceiling and his mouth moves to my neck. He bites, sucks, kisses, bites, sucks, kisses. He doesn’t release my hair, never halts the motion of his body connecting with mine. My arms wrap around him, and I move faster, harder, my throbbing clit meeting his erection with every thrust of our hips. My breasts press into his chest, my sensitive nipples dragging over his sweat-slicked skin, sending tingles through me. My neck, my chest, my core. Flames engulf my whole body, on fire for him. He hums against my neck, teeth grazing over my pulse point.
“Burn for me.” He whispers it once, then repeats it with more volume. “Burn for me.”
Torren’s movements grow more aggressive, pressing into me in a way that erases everything else. The connection is constant, the friction unrelenting, and all I can do is hold on as desire unfurls in my stomach and explodes, rippling outward and making everything around me shake. Torren’s name escapes my lips on a moan as my pleasure crests, and then his thrusts slow, allowing me to ride out the waves of my orgasm until it’s finished.
I’m still panting, my head tipped to the ceiling when his mouth leaves my throat and his fingers release the hair at the nape of my neck. His cock is still hard beneath me, but he’s no longer thrusting against me. When I open my eyes, he’s once more relaxing against the back of the couch with the joint between his lips. He smirks, his eyes running over my face, neck, and chest.
“You come so prettily, Firebird.” He raises his hand and drags a finger over my chest in a lazy swirling motion. “So fucking pretty.”
My lips part, but I say nothing.
I don’t know what to do now. A thin sheen of sweat covers us both, my thighs and underwear are hot and sticky, and I’m too nervous to glance down and see what sort of mess I might have made in his lap.
My eyes zero in on the joint as he takes another drag and blows the smoke out of his nose. I wonder briefly where the ashtray is. There must be one, or there would be ash everywhere. Did he ever put the joint down? Was he holding it the whole time that I... That we...
Jesus, I just dry-humped Torren King in his tour bus while he smoked a joint.
I’m sitting almost entirely naked in Torren King’s lap, and I just orgasmed in front of him. My body heats for a new reason, embarrassment mixing with the thrill of my arousal. Shame starts to creep into my conscious mind, but I force it back. Not now. I’ll deal with it later, but not now. Right now, I want more. I need more.
Torren runs his fingers along the band of my underwear, halting my spiraling train of thought, and my eyes flare.
“What’s going on in that head, hm?” He dips his fingers into my underwear, pulls the band back, then lets it snap back against my skin. “What are you thinking?”
“I don’t know,” I reply, my vocal cords sounding like they have been dragged over gravel. I clear my throat and try again. “I don’t know what I was thinking about.”
He smirks as if my answer pleases him, and it bolsters my confidence once more. Without taking my gaze off his face, I move my hands to his waist, tracing the band of his boxer briefs the same way he traced my underwear seconds earlier. Heat smolders in his eyes as he watches. I dip my fingers underneath the fabric and rub the taut skin of his lower abdomen, sinking lower until I graze the hot head of his cock. He grunts, jerking his hips upward, making me gasp. He licks his lips and holds eye contact as I do it again.
His breaths quicken, and I grow bolder, scooting back on my heels so I can free his erection. I ignore the dampness I feel on his boxer briefs as I tug them down and instead focus on touching him, on stroking him. He’s hot and soft and firm in my hands. When I tighten my grip around him, his eyes flutter shut, and his mouth falls open. He wraps his hand around mine and guides me, up and down, up and down, until I finally let my eyes drift toward the motion.
I have to sink my teeth into my bottom lip to stifle a whimper. Seeing my hand wrapped around Torren’s hard cock is hot, but seeing Torren’s tattooed hand wrapped around my hand to help me jerk him off is almost unbearable.
“Fuck.” The word slips from my mouth on an exhale, and Torren chuckles.
“You like this?”
“Yes.”
He speeds up, tightening his hold on my hand so that I squeeze his cock harder, which makes me jerk him faster. Pre-cum leaks from him and glistens on the tip of his cock. When I lick my lips, he groans, and I tear my eyes back to his.
His eyelids are heavy, heavier than before, and his chest rises and falls rapidly as he bounces his attention between my face and my hand. When his nostrils flare and his lips part, I go rogue, wrapping my other hand around his cock and taking over. I want to make him feel good, and I want to do it on my own.
“Fuck, baby. Just like that. Don’t stop now.”
His face twists up into an almost pained expression, his mouth drops open on a choked moan, and then he cups both of my breasts and squeezes as he shoots his release onto his torso. Ropes of glossy white coat his colorful tattoos in spurts, splattering on his abs and chest and leaking onto my hands. I don’t stop jerking him until he stops coming, until he releases my breasts and wraps his hand around mine once more.
“I’ve fucking never come so hard from a hand job,” he says on a rough laugh, eyes still closed.
“Really?”
I try to sound nonchalant, try to hide the jolt of pride I feel at his praise, but I think I fail given the way his lips curl into a playful grin. I open my mouth to confess that I’ve never actually given a hand job before now, but my words die on my tongue as he moves me off him and stands. I watch wordlessly as he steps out of his boxer briefs and walks gloriously naked to the sink. He rips a paper towel off a roll, wets it, then cleans off his abs.
And I just watch and try not to swallow my tongue.
When he turns those lazy, heavy-lidded eyes toward me, my breath stops .
“Take off your panties, Firebird.”
I don’t move, and he cocks his head.
“You can change your mind. Just tell me no, and we can stop.”
I swallow and shake my head. “I don’t want to stop.”
He grins as he closes the distance between us, then slowly lowers to his knees before me.
“I want to tongue-fuck your pretty little pussy, and then I’m going to flip you over and sink my aching cock into you, so should I take off these sexy panties, or do you want to do it?”
I lift my hips, giving him permission, and he quickly strips my underwear down my thighs and drops them on the couch beside me, then he spreads my legs wide in front of him.
I turn bright red. I can feel the heat creeping up my neck and chest, setting my cheeks ablaze, but he doesn’t seem to notice. I’ve never been naked with a man. I’ve never had a man between my legs with his eyes greedily staring at my sex.
Before I can say anything, he moves his hand from my thigh to my clit and rubs lightly. I suck in a breath with a hiss, and he grins before bending forward and licking right up my slit. I gasp and buck, and he clamps his hands tightly around my thighs. His mouth leaves my core only to bite my inner thigh, making me cry out, and then he goes back to licking.
Tongue-fucking me, as he called it.
His fingers enter me without warning. It stings, but his tongue doesn’t relent, and the pain fades quickly.
“Oh god,” I moan, feeling the vibrations of his chuckle against my skin.
My hips start to move of their own accord, rubbing on his face the way I was rubbing on his cock earlier. I’m too focused to feel embarrassed. I don’t even think about it when my hands slip into his hair, pulling him closer and moving faster. I’m chasing another orgasm when he removes his mouth and flips me onto my stomach.
My knees hit the bus floor roughly, my bare stomach and chest flat on the cushion with my face pressed uncomfortably into the back of the couch. Just as I push myself onto my forearms, he enters me, and I’m hit with a wave of stinging pain. I gasp out a yelp and grit my teeth, but he doesn’t pause. He moves quickly, in and out of me, hitting my body in places I’ve never explored.
I brace myself against the couch with one hand and glance over my shoulder at him. His hands are gripping my hips tightly, eyes clamped shut and head tilted to the ceiling as he fucks me.
The pain blends with the pleasure until the pleasure has diluted the pain to almost nothing. I moan and push back into him as I brace myself on the couch. He thrusts hard and fast before reaching around and putting his fingers on my clit. He rubs fast, and I whimper, tightening my hold on the couch until my fingers ache.
I can’t even describe the way I’m feeling. Like I’m on fire. Like electric shocks of pure pleasure are jolting through my bloodstream. I want more, but I also can’t handle it. I’m overwhelmed in the most blissful way, and I already know I’ll want to do this again when it’s all over. If I survive it.
“Are you close?”
Torren’s voice is raspy and strangled when he asks, tending to my clit while still moving in and out of me. I can’t form words. All I can do is moan and nod.
“Good.”
When I orgasm, he growls and picks up his pace, fingers digging into my waist and hips thrusting roughly until he lets out a groan so deep that it sounds like a roar. His body stutters, his grip tightens, and I know he’s come. I hear his heavy breathing. Feel him slip out of me and throw himself onto the floor. Then slowly I turn around and perch my ass on the edge of the couch. My thighs are sticky, and my heart is still racing. I have this weird longing to be touched or held, but Torren’s eyes are still closed and he’s paying no attention to me.
I don’t know what to say.
I’m running it over in my mind when a slow clap startles me, and I whip my head to the back of the bus to find Jonah stepping toward us. Immediately, my arms go up to cover my chest, but from the predatory gleam in his eye, I have a feeling he’s already seen everything. I had completely forgotten about him.
Torren lets out a small huff of laughter and smirks as he peers up at Jonah. He doesn’t move to cover himself, either. His arms are just sprawled out, his dick exposed and still encased in a cum-filled condom.
I don’t know when he put the condom on, but I cringe when I see the faint ring of blood around its base. I frantically look at Torren, then at Jonah, but it seems neither has noticed yet.
“Told ya,” Jonah says to Torren cryptically, then turns his attention to me. “Bathroom’s back there, sweets.”
To Jonah’s credit, his eyes never leave my face, but he doesn’t look away until I start to stand. Torren doesn’t make a move to stop me.
I snatch my sundress and underwear from the couch and scurry in the direction of the bathroom, practically hurling myself inside and slamming the door behind me. When I catch sight of my reflection in the full-length mirror on the back of the door, my hands cover my mouth to stifle my yelp.
“Oh my god,” I whisper into my hands. “What the actual fuck.”
My upper body is covered in bruises. Hickeys and bite marks decorate my breasts and collarbone, with one particularly brutal one on my neck just under my ear. When I look down, I find two more bite marks on my inner thigh. Honestly, I look like I’ve been attacked by a vampire, and I stare wide-eyed at my body for several moments, trying to process what I’m seeing. After the initial surge of shock fades, though, I have to fold my lips between my teeth to hide my giggle.
“Oh my god .”
Torren fucking King has left hickeys on my body. I just gave my first ever hand job and my virginity to Torren fucking King, and I have a body covered in bruises to show for it. I wish I had a friend I could talk to about this. I feel like I need to squeal into a pillowcase or something. Instead, all I have are the guys.
My stomach falls. Shit. The guys.
How the fuck am I going to explain this to them?
How am I going to explain it to Becket?
I pull my sundress over my head and take inventory of the bruises, heaving a sigh of relief when I realize all but two could be hidden by a regular crew neck T-shirt. The others I can probably cover with makeup. Hopefully.
God. Come to ArtFusion a sexually-inexperienced virgin, leave thoroughly fucked and covered in hickeys by a rock star. I roll my eyes. This is like some low-budget porn script. Never in my wildest freaking dreams.
I pee and feel relieved when there’s only a little bit of blood on the toilet paper, then slip my underwear back on. I wash my hands and pull my hair over my shoulders, trying to hide the hickeys, then take a deep breath before stepping back into the bus. Jonah is sitting at the small table, scrolling on his phone, and he doesn’t look up when he addresses me.
“He’s outside.”
“Thanks.” I walk toward the exit, stopping briefly to glance back at the guitarist. “Um...see you later.”
His jaw ticks as if he heard me, but he doesn’t respond and doesn’t look up, so I let myself out. I find Torren waiting for me at the bottom of the steps. He’s wearing a pair of shorts and a tank top, but he doesn’t have shoes on his feet. When he sees me, he gives me a small smile.
“I’m going to have Beau walk you back.”
I furrow my brow. “Why?”
“Cover’s blown.”
Ah . The crowd of fans behind the fence makes sense now. Someone must have finally recognized one of them. He reaches up and brushes my hair off my shoulder, then rubs his fingers over the large hickey just below my ear.
“Sorry.”
I arch a brow. “Are you really?” He smirks but he doesn’t answer. “Will I see you tomorrow?”
“Do you want to see me tomorrow?”
Excitement swirls in my stomach, and I try my best to swallow back my nerves as I nod.
“There’s a band playing tomorrow from four to five on the west stage. Think you can make it out to watch?”
“They any good?”
I smile and shrug. “I think so, yeah.”
He smiles back. “I might be able to make that happen.”
“Cool.”
Torren leans down and presses a kiss to my forehead, then winks as he steps away from me. It takes all my restraint not to reach for him.
“Sweet dreams, Firebird,” he says, then I watch as he disappears back into the bus.