RUBY
The penthouse is finally quiet.
It only took Zane threatening to bodily remove the last two bandmates who wouldn’t take a hint, Jude laughing all the way out the door, and Bishop whispering “goodnight” like he was escaping a war zone.
Now it’s just us.
We shower together, his hands everywhere and my brain nowhere, the steam turning everything slow and sweet until it isn’t sweet at all anymore.
“I’ve got a present for you,” he whispers in my ear when I’m putty in his hands.
I blink once. Twice. “What?”
He takes my hand without answering and he leads me, naked out of the bathroom. There’s a small black leather pouch on the bed, not the kind to freak me out…yet.
It’s too small to be a blatant phallic sex toy but not too small to be hiding something else.
Zane keeps me plastered to his side as he picks it up and hands it to me. From the way his cock is bobbing and strainingfor attention, I’m not at all surprised when I loosen the tie and an egg vibrator falls out.
Something else catches in the velvet and when I shake it out, a small remote follows.
Oh…shit. “Okay. This is either for my pleasure or my funeral, and with you I honestly can’t tell the difference. Zane, if this thing ends up lodged somewhere the sun doesn’t shine, I’m haunting you for the rest of your very loud, very dramatic life.”
He laughs, which makes my own lips curve like he’s using the remote control already. A moment later, I realise I’m not just happy he’s amused, I’m also relieved. This must have been what he had delivered.
I shiver when his hand slides up my arm, over my shoulder to cup my nape in a strong, warm hold he uses to drag me closer.
To kiss me long and deep until I’m whimpering.
“It’s time, baby.”
I blink up at him, dazed from the magic of his kiss. “Time?” I echo.
“Time to make you feel fantastic. Drenched and begging for cock. Then, yes, baby, time for me to fuck you in the ass like I promised I would.”
All signs of humour are gone, replaced by the feral need I know so well. The same need unfurling through me as he catches one nipple between his thumb and finger and squeezes.
“Say ‘yes, Zane.’”
The thought of his ridiculously large cock in my backside makes my imaginary eyes cross but damn, there hasn’t been a moment since I met him that this man has made me regret a single thing we do in bed.
So I suck in awhoo-boybreath. “Yes, Zane.”
To say his eyes light up fireworks on the Fourth of July is the understatement of the century. He delves in for another torridkiss, and when I’m dizzy with lust, he moves back, points to the bed.
“Lie down. On your back, legs spread. Let’s get the show on the road.”
Am I a little ashamed with how fast I move? How quickly I spread myself wide open, my needy pussy on show for Zane?
Maybe.
His eyes are living pools of unhinged obsession when he stares down at me, his gaze darting all over my body, missing nothing.
I startle when the vibrator comes alive in his hand. But he doesn’t use it. He just sets it down next to me.
Then he starts from my forehead, kissing me almost reverently. “You’re so fucking beautiful. Every second of every day, you steal my breath. And you don’t just take me, Ruby. You unmake me. You rip me out of my body and drag me through every plane until all that exists is you.”
My eyes water…from the overwhelming urge to scream, sob, and file an emotional restraining order against the galaxy for letting this happen to me. From the fact that this feral rockstar just turned sex into an interdimensional pilgrimage and my stupid heart is actually buying it.
