Sweet baby Jesus, how did I manage to go without this for the last several days?
“Don’t stop,” I plead.
And like a bastard, he swirls my nipple with his tongue and releases it.
Fuuuck. No.
He chuckles, leaning up to give me a swift kiss, and then reaching behind me to undo the clasp. I flop back on the bed as he pulls my arms out of the straps, and I lift my hips so he can remove my leggings.
Letting out a string of curses and filthy promises, he slides his hands up my inner thighs, spreading me wide and lowering his head to my pussy. His tongue swipes across me, and we both groan.
“You taste so fucking good,” he mutters and licks me again. Then his fingers drive inside me, curling up so hard my hips follow his hand, and he sucks my clit like that with me hanging from his fingers which curl into my G-spot. In almost no time, I’m right there, right on the knife’s edge of the most intense pleasure. “Oh god oh god oh god,” I babble. “I’m so close. So fucking close. Don’t stop don’t stop don’t stop.” And then I explode. White lightning dances over my nerve endings, making me convulse with pleasure, my vision going dark.
He slows, relaxes his hand, giving me long licks to extend the pleasure and bring me back down before withdrawing completely.
Whimpering at the loss of him, I open my eyes to watch him roll on a condom. And then he’s back, nudging my thighs apart with his knees, lining up, and sinking inside me.
The stretch of my oversensitive tissues is exquisite, and having him inside me again makes me feel whole for the first time in days.
That’s what the feeling of being with him has been all along. Rightness. A sense of belonging. Acceptance. Completeness. Like I don’t have to fit into some mold of who I’m supposed to be. I can just be me.
It’s freedom.
“I’ve missed you so much,” I tell him for the hundredth time, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and hooking my ankles behind his back, my heels pressing into his ass.
He lowers himself to his elbows and fits his hands under my shoulders. “You don’t have to miss me anymore,” he says, pulling back and driving home. He kisses me, his tongue matching the pace of his fucking.
I meet him thrust for thrust, stroke for stroke, urging him on, wanting him to chase his own pleasure. I came so hard that I’m still sparking with the aftershocks, and every time he bottoms out inside me, another flash of pleasure zips through me.
Groaning into my mouth, he breaks off the kiss, his hips moving faster. “I can’t hold back much longer,” he whispers.
I stroke the short, soft hair at the nape of his neck. “Don’t. Don’t hold back at all. Give me everything.”
He rears back, propping himself up higher for better leverage, pounding into me now, his face pulled tight with concentration. “Fuck,” he mutters. “Fuck, Viola. You undo me.” And then his hips stutter, losing their rhythm and finesse, and he grinds against me as he comes. This beautiful, flawed man, giving all of himself to me.
It’s a gift. A treasure that I hold close to my heart. Even more beautiful because I know he’ll do the same for me.
Epilogue
Mason
Marcus hands me a beer as I claim a seat on the end of his couch. “Another one for the books,” he says, settling next to me.
We clink bottles and each take a pull. “I can’t believe we’ve finished another tour. How long before you guys are done with the next album?”
He shrugs and drums two fingers on his leg, glancing at where Danny is snuggled on the loveseat with Ava. A shrill squeal pierces the air as Maddie and Eli chase little Mila. She looks like she might topple over at any second, but her chubby little legs just manage to stay under her as she careens through the house and collides with her dad’s legs. With a laugh, he scoops her up.
Marcus hums. “A few months, at least,” he says, answering my question. “There’s no big rush. We all need some downtime.”
Nodding, I take another pull of my beer, thinking of all the ways I’ll enjoy spending that downtime. Viola officially moved into my place last year, taking all her things out of storage and putting them in my condo. But all her stuff is still in boxes in the guest bedroom. We could’ve unpacked them at any point over the last year when we had time off, but with the prospect of going back on tour always hanging over our heads, we spent as much time relaxing and luxuriating in each other’s presence as possible.
Now, though, it’ll be at least six months before another tour starts up. Probably more like a year. Yeah, we’ll have appearances and performances here and there in the interim, but mostly we’ll all lie low and rest. Like Marcus said, we all need the downtime.
Marcus nudges me and gestures at Danny and Ava and their kids. “You thinking you might join the parent club soon?”
Startled, I snap my eyes to Marcus. “What?”
He shrugs like he didn’t just throw me a curveball. “I mean, they look so happy, don’t they? And there’s already a nanny along for the tour. We could just add her to the tour staff instead of making Aaron and Danny foot the bill. Maybe hire another person, since there’ll be more kids. Hell, there’s probably another one on the way already. Kendra said Sam’s been puking every day for the last week.”
My eyes go wide, and I shake my head. “Feel free to add to the daycare we’ll drag on tour if you want to, man. But I’m good with the way things are.” Plus, I’m not sure Viola would still want
