Pain shoots through my entire body when I roll over on the heavenly hotel bed. I feel like I ran a marathon, then promptly got into a fight with a werewolf right after crossing the finish line. My body is beat to shit after just one and a half days with Nolan Hastings. Turning my head slowly to the side, my gaze lands on the sleeping man beside me. After fucking into the early morning, it must be afternoon now if the light streaming through the windows is anything to go by.
We’d slept until noon yesterday, fucked all throughout the afternoon, then Nolan had disappeared down the hall into another bedroom in a fit of irritation, before returning to me in the evening to fuck some more. He’d smelled like cigarettes and felt like rage personified. Three orgasms later, he was pliant under my hands, and willing to take another long bath together. Maybe that’s the trick to Nolan Hastings, fuck him until he gives me what Ineed. And what I need is to take care of him because fucking nonstop isn’t really my scene.
I slowly lift my arm to press at the crook of my neck where the bite from the first night still tingles. After that initial bite, Nolan had spent less time biting, and more time seeminglyaccepting what we were doing for the weekend. The man is covered in tattoos from tip to toe, but I already knew that from all the magazine covers I’ve seen him grace over the years. I don’t remember him being so thin though. His ribs stick out as he breathes softly, the sheet just barely covering his bare ass.
A Grim Reaper tattoo covers the entire expanse of his back. Beautiful brightly colored flowers cover his ribs, looking like they’re wrapped around his bones, blooming to life as he breathes.
I’d expected a lot of things this weekend, but all expectations fell short of the actual Nolan. He’s terrifyingly quiet and watches me like a hawk inside and outside of the bedroom. Yesterday afternoon I’d shaved and he’d watched me from the bed, eyebrows furrowed, fingers slowly tightening and releasing the messy sheets underneath him. Once I’d returned to the bed, he’d goaded me into fucking him again, on our knees as usual. We’ve fucked ten times by now, and still, he doesn’t let me touch his cock. But each time he comes untouched with a small, pained gasp as if the action hurts him.
Nolan rolls onto his side, facing me on the bed. Lips parted in his sleep, he murmurs something that I can’t understand. His words sound slurred in his sleep, making it hard for me to parse the words. After a few quiet seconds, a clear, pained, and terrifiednofloats from his lips. His arm comes up to protect his face from his dream just in time for another clearnoto escape him.
“Nolan,” I whisper softly, gently touching his bicep.
Nolan gasps and sits up in the bed, eyes wild and terrified. His chest heaves with gasps as he tries to gulp in air. When he notices I’m watching, he squeezes his eyes shut tight against whatever look I must have on my face.
“Make yourself useful and order food,” Nolan orders quietly, no bite in his voice. His fingers come up to rub at his temples.
“Okay,” I say softly.
Nolan flops back against the bed with a giant huff, fingers still working at his temples as if he can massage out whatever dream woke him so abruptly. I take my time ordering us a late breakfast considering it’s earlier than I’d initially thought. We’d only gotten five hours of sleep. I’m exhausted from the weird hours, but Nolan seems to be used to them. Rockstars, I guess.
The shower turns on just as I finish placing our breakfast order. Steam fills the air of the bathroom as I gently push the door open. Nolan’s just about to step into the shower, but he casts an odd look at me over his shoulder.
“Up for one more round?” Nolan asks, a dangerous smirk lifting up the corner of his mouth.
“Aren’t you tired?” I ask because honestly, I’m exhausted.
Nolan rolls his eyes and steps into the large shower. The overhead waterfall showerhead pours down over him. Tipping his head back, he runs his hands through his drenched hair, causing a cascade of water to sluice down his body in gushing rivers. Once he’s fully soaked, he takes a step back to lean against the cold tile. Crooking one finger, he beckons me closer, eyes void of any emotion.
“I’ve got to get my money's worth. Get in here, stud.”
My nose wrinkles in distaste at the nickname. Gross. But my cock hardens and I join him in the shower regardless. His dark chuckle reverberates around us. His hair is somehow even more inky when wet, eyes so black that they look perpetually rimmed with eyeliner. The skeleton hand tattoos around his neck also oddly do it for me, as if the bones are a guide for where I should place my own hands. Unable to resist, I do it now, laying my fingers over the inked skeleton's hands teasingly choking him.
His eyes flash at my touch. “Wanna choke me?”
I swallow loudly. “Never seriously done that before.”
Nolan hooks his leg around my hip, tugging me closer until our cocks are lined up. A hiss escapes me and Nolan grins so widely that I can almost see his molars.
“I can teach you, stud,” Nolan murmurs before wrapping his thin fingers around my wrists. He pulls my hands harder against his body until the pressure feels like too much against my freckled skin. “Tighten your fingers.”
I do as he says, but hold back just a little, slightly terrified at the idea of accidentally killing one of the world's biggest rockstars because I downplayed my own strength. His pulse beats harder against my palms as his mouth parts on a silent gasp. Looking down between us, I notice his cock hardening even further at my touch, the angry red tip leaking pre-cum in the humidity of the shower. I wish he’d let me touch his cock. I want to swallow him whole, bring him pleasure just with my mouth.
“Pretty, isn’t it?” Nolan asks, voice strained from the pressure I’m applying to his throat.
My eyes flit back to his heated gaze, mouth dry with want. “Let me suck you.”
Nolan’s eyes flash again. “Make me.”
I squeeze his throat tighter, until the air whistles when he breathes in through his nose. Pressing him harder against the wall, time goes syrupy-slow. “I’m going to suck you off, and you’re going to come down my throat. And you’re going to like it.”
Letting one of my hands drop from his neck, I move the other around to the front to splay my fingers around the center of that damned tattoo that’s slowly driving me insane. The tiles are cold against my knees, but the quick drop is worth it when I look up at Nolan to find him staring down at me with wide, worried eyes. I squeeze my fingers tightly around his throat, arm stretched as far as it can go to keep my grip on him. Without furtherhesitation, I suck his cock to the back of my throat, swallowing around the perfect taste of him exploding on my tongue.
His fingers tangle roughly in my hair, keeping my face buried in his groin. When I lift my gaze back to him, his head is tilted back against the tiles, eyes squeezed shut to blot out the sight of me on my knees for him. Slowly lifting off his cock, I use my other hand to steady him at his base so that I can lick around the sensitive head. His knees tremble, so I suck him back down before he can collapse to the floor. Three good sucks and a hard throat squeeze later, he comes quietly down my throat. I swallow every single drop, then slither back up to stand toe to toe with him.
Nolan’s eyes slowly blink open as if just realizing this wasn’t all a dream. I dip down to kiss him softly, carefully coaxing him to open up for me so that I can share the taste of him on my tongue. He moans softly before pulling away with an annoyed grunt.
“Happy now?” Nolan asks with a snarl. He pushes me away so that he can grab at the body wash in the corner of the shower. I can’t help but notice that his hands tremble as he squeezes soap onto a loofah, then angrily spreads it over his body to wash himself clean. The man makes no sense, running more hot and cold than the bad water heater at my mom’s house.
