Page 43 of The Masks We Wear

Satisfied with my response, he finds a rhythm of thrusting in and out of me, his cock stretching me with every beautiful slapping sound of his skin on mine. My fingernails dig into the skin of his back and he looks down at me with his onyx eyes. They don’t look so dark to me anymore. His hand on my throat tightens only slightly and I cry out in pure ecstasy. The feeling of him claiming me in his grip, in such a primal way while he fucks and stretches me has me slickening even more, my arousal dripping from my entrance. He growls, “You still feel like being a brat?”

“Only if it gets you to keep fucking me like this,” I moan.

He snorts a laugh as he continues to pound into me. He uses his free hand to rub my clit while he fucks me and I feel my legs start to shake at the sensation. Within moments, he’s wrung another orgasm from me and I tighten around him. He groans, “Fuck, you’re so tight.”

When the high of my orgasm fades, he pulls out and flips me onto my stomach. The sudden change in position catches me so off guard that I don’t say anything and I don’t make any noises at all. At least until he lifts my hips and props me on my knees, pressing my upper back down into the couch so my back is arched and my sex is on display for him. He thrusts back into me in one push and moans as my walls tighten around him. A cry tears from my chest at the intrusion and the overall sensation of him filling me up once more.

He finds a rhythm and reaches up, grabbing a fistfull of my hair in his fist. He pulls my head back by my hair and I moan at how rough he is. I love every second of it. He leans in close and growls in my ear, “Do you like getting fucked like a whore, Little Rockstar?”

I moan, “Yes!” as he pounds harder.

“Tell me how much. Tell me who this pussy belongs to,” he demands, his voice primal.

“I love it,” I admit breathily. “My pussy belongs to you!” my voice cracks on the last word as he thrusts into me so deep, my head starts to spin.

He pulls my head back further so that I stand on my knees with his arms locked around my torso. He holds my forehead so that the back of my head rests against his chest as he drives into me. “Such a good girl.”

His praise does something to me that his thrusts can’t. I feel another orgasm building and sensing it, he pushes inside me deeper, his hand coming between us to stroke my clit. My body starts convulsing around him and my legs shake, suddenly unable to support my weight. I fall forward but he catches me and continues pounding into me as I tighten around him and cry out with the effects of my orgasm.

He changes our position a third time while still inside of me, by sitting on the couch and pulling me into his lap so that my legs straddle him on each side. One of his large hands finds my ass cheek, squeezing and slapping the flesh until it stings, while the other wraps around my throat. He yanks my mouth towards his and kisses me roughly. I kiss him back with the same passion and start to grind my hips against his while he starts pounding into me from below. “Ride me,” he commands as he slaps my ass cheek. He rubs the sting away as I obey him, my hips working him as I move up and down.

Sweat starts to form on both of our skin, my hair sticking in wet strands to my shoulders, chest, and back as his own sticks to his forehead. His cock gets deeper than ever in this position and I moan as my walls stretch for him with every thrust. “Oh God, Harvey!” I cry out as he starts to stroke my clit again. I don’t think I can physically handle another orgasm.

He breathes, “Fuck, I love the way my name sounds coming from your mouth while I fuck you,” he gets a wave of primal energy or something close to it as he completely surprises me by rising off the couch with my legs around his waist and his cock still deep inside me. He lowers me to my back on the coffee table and pins my legs down by the backs of my knees, driving so deep inside of me, I start to see stars. I feel another orgasm building as the familiar feeling of warmth spreads from that small bundle of nerves like fire igniting in my veins. It spreads throughout my whole body. “Are you gonna come again, Little Rockstar?”

“Yes,” I yelp.

He presses his thumb against my clit as he continues his rhythm. “Good girl, come on my cock again,” he demands and almost as if on command, my orgasm rips right through my chest with a loud cry. I start spasming beneath him and he stills, his orgasm finding him as he spills himself inside the condom while still fully sheathed by my walls.

He slowly releases the backs of my thighs once his orgasm fades but my body is still a mess of convulsions, the aftershocks of the orgasm pure bliss. He slowly slides out of me and wraps me in his arms, lifting me off the coffee table and into his lap as he seats himself on the couch. He presses my face to his chest and I hear the rapid beat of his heart, his usual intoxicating scent of espresso and pine mixing with the heat of sex. He strokes my hair as he catches his breath, “Are you still feeling bratty?”

I snort a laugh as I try to steady my breathing. “No,” I take a deep breath and close my eyes, exhaustion creeping in on me. I use his chest as a pillow as I mutter, “But I might in a few minutes.”

He laughs into my hair and as I slowly start to drift off into sleep, he whispers, “Good, because I’m just getting started with you, Little Rockstar.”

Chapter 19

Brody

I frown, a creaseforming between my brows as a documentary on Kiss plays on the hotel TV. It’s like the TV just knew I absolutely fucking hate them and wanted to play it just to spite me. A clip of Eric Singer plays of him twirling his drumsticks in his fingers and I scoff, tossing a pillow with unnecessary aggression at the TV. “Fuck you,” I mutter distastefully.

“What did Eric Singer do to you?” Harvey interrupts my little outburst as he enters the room, his hair dripping water into his eyes from his shower. My eyes dip to the white fluffy hotel towel draped around his waist that looks like it’s about to fall at any second. I lick my lips as my eyes rove over his chiseled abs and rigid chest, remembering the feeling of his body against mine. He clears his throat to grab my attention and when my eyes meet his he gives me a knowing, teasing look as he dries his dark tendrils of hair with a separate towel.

I clear my lustful thoughts of him from my mind when I remember how sore I am from all the sex and orgasms he’s given me these last few days. Since our tryst in my dressing room after the show in Colorado, we went for round two in my hotel room. And then in his. And then in the shower the next morning before we had to hop on the plane to Illinois. Oh and then once we got to Illinois, we fucked in my new hotel room, and then again in the studio after the girls left, and again in his hotel room. Am I forgetting anything? Oh, yes! There was the fuck on the private balcony of my suite. I woke up next toHarvey this morning, curled into his side with my head on his chest and I’ve never felt safer in my life. I don’t worry about my attacker coming back to finish me off, I don’t get panic attacks over what happened, and I just feel relaxed, at peace around him. There is something about Harvey Taylor that makes me feel so protected and encased in an impenetrable shield of dark eyes and a hulking frame. There’s also his magnificently full ass that I catch myself staring at quite often.

Tonight is the show and until then, I have the day to myself and I’m choosing to spend it with Harvey. It fascinates me how I could’ve gone from hating his guts to wanting to be with him every minute of my day, but I don’t question it in fear of losing precious time. I know our time is limited and with every day that goes by, we’re one day closer to having to go our separate ways and return to our completely different lives in other states.

Ivory and Aria are spending the day at the hotel spa and invited me to join but I declined and said I was exhausted and wanted to rest up for the show. It wasn’t a complete lie considering Harvey and I have been up at all hours of the night, most definitely not sleeping, and Iamtired. That just isn’t the reason I’m not at the spa with them right now. The reason is because I would much rather be having delicious sex with my grumpy babysitter, though that may be off the table at the moment considering how sore I am.

I roll onto my side, propping my head up in my palm as it rests on my elbow. The gray t-shirt I stole from Harvey rides up my thigh with the movement, revealing the black lacy thong I have on underneath. His eyes don’t miss a thing, completely homed in on my exposed flesh and undergarments. I raise an annoyed brow at the conversation topic and frown even deeper as if that were even possible, “I fucking hate that guy,” I grumble.

He shakes his head on a low laugh as he removes his toweland puts on a pair of boxers. “Care to explain why?”

I answer as I ogle him, “Because he’s overrated. I’m a better drummer for starters,” I say arrogantly before adding, “And the green circles around the eyes? Distasteful if you ask me. Oh! And how could I forget the fact that he does his makeup like a Goddamn cat?” I rant, my voice rising on the last part. I quickly remind myself to keep my voice down just in case Selene is somewhere close by. The last thing we need is her finding out about us.

He steps into a pair of sweatpants and meets my eyes with a doubtful expression. “Is it the whole band you hate or just Eric Singer?”

I sit up and speak passionately, anger clear in my tone, “I hate them all!”

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