Page 168 of My Three Billionaire Rockstars

She’s hot and slick already. Fuck, I want to bite into her, memorize her from the inside out, and I’m not sure if it’s too much or not enough.

Her pussy takes me in, inch by inch, tight and obscene, so fucking good I grip the seat below us, desperate for anything to ground me.

She rolls her hips and the friction is so intense it’s a burn, a pleasure pain heat that short circuits my brain.

She moans, and it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard.

Her hands stay clamped on my shoulders. I watch her mouth, the flush creeping up her neck, how her eyes go unfocused every time she slides down and I bottom out inside her. I want to worship her, tell her how fucking perfect she is, but all I can do is hang on, let her use me until my vision whites out.

“Jeez, you feel so good…” I manage, and she shudders hard.

She’s so fucking wet. I’m delirious.

I buck up into her out of pure desperation, and she takes it, meeting me pulse for pulse. Every time our hips connect, her tits bounce against my chest and she bites her lip, trying not to make a sound.

But it slips out. A whimper, orphaned and desperate, and I know she’s as fucked as I am. Maybe more.

I want to kiss it off her lips, eat every sound she makes, so I pull her down and catch her mouth with mine.

It’s messy, more crashing than kissing, but she doesn’t care. She ruts greedily down, fingers fisting in my shirt, her body frantic. She wants to burn the memory of this into both of us.

I reach between us, thumb circling her clit, and the reaction is immediate.

She cries out, back arching, clamping down hard around my cock. I lose my goddamn mind.

Every part of me tenses, white noise filling up every sense, and I’m coming for her, into her, shaking with the force of it.

She sinks onto me, clinging, head buried against my shoulder, and shatters there. Her body trembles as she rides out every aftershock, grinding into me.

I hold her through it, even though my limbs feel watery and my heart is punching at the inside of my chest.

But I don’t want out.

I know I don’t.

TWENTY-NINE

Willow

Iwake up tangled in my sheets with my phone wedged under my hip and the overwhelming realization that my life has officially become ridiculous.

And out of control.

Daisy lifts her head from the end of the bed as I groan into my pillow.

“I know,” I mumble. “I’m judging me, too.”

Sunlight filters through the curtains, warm and cheerful. Outside, Redemption Falls is waking up slowly, birds chirping, trucks rumbling down Main Street, the familiar activity of a town that has stayed the same my entire life.

Everything feels normal.

Except me.

Because normal girls don’t accidentally fall into whatever this is.

My stomach twists as flashes from the last few weeks replay in my head like some cruel montage.

Xander in the lake, soaked and intense and looking at me like I was the answer to a question he’d been asking for years. Gabe kissing me outside Bennett’s with enough force to make my knees weak. Us in his office, losing our damn minds. Julian grinning at me in the delivery car before ruining my life with that stupidly perfect mouth.