Page 54 of My Rockstar Ex's Broken Vows

Those words ignite something in me, and suddenly, I'm consumed by the need to worship every inch of her. I take my time, kissing and caressing, determined to make her feel how much I want her, how much I've always wanted her.

I kiss my way back up Sienna's body, savoring the soft sounds of pleasure she makes. Her skin is flushed and warm beneath my lips. Our eyes lock as I position myself above her.

"You sure about this?" I ask softly, needing her full consent.

She nods, pulling me closer. "I want you, Cal. I've always wanted you."

Those words ignite something primal in me. I enter her slowly, both of us gasping at the intense sensation. For a moment, we're perfectly still, foreheads pressed together as we adjust to the overwhelming feeling of finally being joined again after so long apart.

Then Sienna rolls her hips and coherent thought leaves me entirely. I start to move, setting a steady rhythm that has us both panting. Her nails dig into my back as she matches my pace.

"God, Si," I groan. "You feel amazing."

She responds by wrapping her legs around my waist and altering the angle. The new position draws a deep moan from both of us. I pick up the pace, driven by her enthusiastic responses.

Our bodies move together in perfect synchronicity. The muscle-memory is still there, as if the years apart never happened. Every touch, every kiss feels electric. The room fills with the sounds of our passion—breathless gasps, low moans, skin on skin.

I can feel Sienna getting close. Her movements become more frantic, her grip on me tightening. I slip a hand between us, determined to push her over the edge.

"Let go for me, baby," I murmur against her neck. "I've got you."

With a cry of my name, she comes undone beneath me. The sight and feel of her release triggers my own, and I follow right after, burying my face in her hair as waves of pleasure wash over me.

Tuesday,March 18

7:54 AM

The room is stilland the hum of the city below is muffled by the thick hotel windows.

The hotel’s decor is sleek and minimal, all dark wood and clean lines, but it somehow feels warmer now. The familiar furnishings—the low-slung leather chairs, the polished wood table, the heavy drapes pushed halfway open—make it feel less like a hotel and more like someone else’s version of home.

Sienna’s clothes are draped over the back of a chair and her boots are half-tucked beneath it. The faint scent of sex lingers in the air—a trace of her I can’t ignore.

But the only thing I care about right now is her.

Sienna’s curled into me. Her back's pressed against my chest and one of her legs is thrown across mine.

Her hair’s a wild mess, the long waves falling over her shoulder and brushing against my arm. The faintest scent of lavender clings to her skin, mixed with something warmer, sweeter.

She’s still asleep. Her face is half-turned into the pillow and her breathing is slow and steady. I let my fingers trace the curve of her waist. The softness of her skin makes my chest ache and my dick twitch.

I don’t know how long I stay like this, just holding her, soaking her in, but I don’t care. It’s the first time in years that I’ve felt this... steady. Like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.

Her body shifts slightly, and she murmurs something I can’t quite make out before her eyes flutter open. She blinks a few times, squinting against the faint light, and then tilts her head to look at me.

"Morning," she says, her voice husky and thick with sleep.

"Morning," I reply, my hand brushing a strand of hair from her face. "How’d you sleep?"

"I haven't slept that well in years," she says, a small smile tugging at her lips. "You?"

"Best night I’ve had in a long time," I admit, leaning in to kiss her forehead.

Her smile grows, and she shifts to face me fully, propping herself up on one elbow. "You always this chipper this early in the morning? I don't remember you being a morning person."

"Hard not to be," I say, letting my eyes roam over her face—the freckles scattered across her nose, the way her hair falls in soft waves around her shoulders. "You look good like this."

She laughs, soft and self-deprecating. "I look like I’ve been dragged through a bush."

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