Page 71 of Fame and Obsession

That’s it. She’s mine.

Play time is over.

Twisting the bottom of her dress in my hands, I jerk it up over her hips. Everything seems to move in warp speed as I pull her to my waiting mouth while my other hand slides in between her legs.

I can’t hide my smile. Her mouth can lie about how she feels, but her body can’t.

She’s fucking drenched through the thin scrap of lace, and when I slip my finger under it, she gasps and arches against me. Our kisses harden as I add a second finger and pump relentlessly into her pussy.

“Oh God!”

The intensity crackling in the room borders on insanity. Between the shots of tequila from earlier and those broken moans of hers, my blood pressure has risen to a fevered pitch. For every thrust I deliver with my hand, I’m offering one in return with my hips.

I’m a fucking rock star. I’ve had threesomes, hell, foursomes for that matter. I’ve had groupies line up to suck my dick, only to turn around and offer to take it up the ass.

Yet here I am, humping this girl like a fourteen-year-old virgin. What’s even worse? According to the sparks currently electrocuting the base of my spine, if we keep this up, I’m going to shoot my load in my pants.

So, just as she sinks her nails into my back, I stop both punishing rhythms.

Phoebe’s eyes snap open, drowning me in endless blue. “What are you waiting for?”

“Not a fucking thing,” I say with a growl. Removing my hand, I hook it through the flimsy string resting on her hip and pull, a dark smile on my face as it rips in two.

Twenty

Phoebe

Julian’s lips lift in a cocky half-grin as his hand dips back between my legs. “Now, where was I?”

Baring my soul and then my body has sparked a fire that’s raging out of control. I close my eyes and give myself over to the feeling, panting as he increases pace and pressure. Even with my eyes shut, the lights begin to dance in a swirl of colors, and white heat coils in my stomach.

“Oh God, Julian...” He plays me like a master, and my body responds, forcing his name from my throat in a strangled cry. When I’m able to form a coherent sentence, I lift my head and lock gazes with him.

He wears the look of a man who knows he’s rocked me to my core.

“That’s one.”

“One?” I gasp.

“One of the many times you’ll scream my name tonight.”

Grabbing the back of his head, I kiss him deeply. Julian’s jaw tightens as he holds my rocking hips with enough force to still my movements.

“Don’t…” Julian says, biting the word out between clenched teeth.

“Why?”

He blows out a labored breath. “I’m trying not to hurt you.”

I freeze. “What do you mean?”

Tipping his head back, he seems to struggle with what to say for a moment before leveling me with a lethal stare. “I don’t have sex, Phoebe. I fuck—hard. I take—hard. I like it dirty and rough, and you don’t strike me as the type of girl who can handle that.”

“You don’t know that,” I argue, looking away.

But he does. I’m not the type of girl who can handle that.

But maybe with him, I could be…

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