Rock Reclaimed (Rock Revenge Trilogy 2)

When she turned toward me and held out a packet with a yellow condom inside, I nearly dropped the camera.

“Banana now, is it? Is it flavored too?”

“No, but that’s an idea for next time. Here, let me sweeten the pot.” Shaking back her hair, she kneeled before me and took my dick in hand.

She rolled the condom on with just enough fumbling that I didn’t have to curse the men in her past in my head. Sexist or not, I liked to pretend we were new to this together.

Her and me. Always.

Then she took the yellow-covered tip between her lips, giving it a gentle suck while I aimed and shot. That picture I’d keep in my wallet. Her hair covered one eye, and she was nearly disguised except for her pale pink lips enveloping me and one slumberous golden eye.

Wordlessly, I drew her up and set the camera on the nearby table. I framed her face in my hands and kissed her until my head spun from lack of oxygen. Until my limbs shook from holding that tensed pose for so long. Until even her dazed laughter tasted like need.

I took her hand and led her to the sofa, pulling her down with me. Shifting us until she was beneath me, her eyes so huge as they found mine. She crossed her arms against the arm of the couch, and I gripped the apex of her wrists. Looming over her so that my cross necklace dangled near her mouth. She reached up to suck it between her lips, and I couldn’t hold back a groan.

“Now,” I whispered.

“Now,” she whispered back at me, my cross still in her mouth. A perfect echo.

I took my cock in hand and lined it up between her legs, rubbing against her swollen seam. She yanked on the chain and it fell away between our mouths as we kissed. I drew on her lower lip, sinking in my teeth at the moment I pressed into her.

Every time, it was brand new. Sliding into her and feeling her open for me, taking me in so deep. No hesitation. Her legs came up to wind around me, linking at the small of my back, and I rose above her, still holding her wrists, using that grip to pull back and drive forward again. She arched beneath me, her beautiful breasts straining, quivering, and I cupped her chin in my free hand to keep her eyes on me.

I needed that link more than I needed air.

She rocked against me, tightening, squeezing, bowing into my strokes so that it felt like we were moving as one. Better than one. I felt whole with her in a way I’d never been on my own. Had never imagined such could be possible. Not just because of the rush of heat inside me, warning me I wouldn’t last.

Couldn’t last when I was drowning in those golden eyes trained on mine.

She gave me so much more than her body. She accepted me as I was. Flawed, broken, barely hanging on. With her, I was different. Stronger. More than anything, I wanted to be the man I saw reflected through the warmth in her eyes.

I stroked into her over and over, losing myself in the motion of her opening up to receive me. Her legs wrapping so tight as she tilted up to take me deep and deeper still. Angling to find some new spot to make her fist around me.

Sweat blurred into my eyes and she turned her head to kiss the frayed skin on my inner arm. I’d forgotten myself and left off the bandage and there it was, exposed for anyone to see.

For her to see.

Eyes closed, she kissed the circle of uneven skin until I couldn’t keep my hips from slamming forward. Her pussy clamped around me and she made a strangled sound just before her body broke around mine.

Shattering her and me both.

I let out a shout as I drained into her, still holding her wrists, trying like hell to keep from pressing her into the couch with my weight.

When I could move again, I released her wrists to scoop her up in my arms and shift us until she was on top. I was about to drive into her again when she dropped her damp forehead to mine. “Condom.”

I wanted to rip it off and pound into her raw again. But I hadn’t earned that right. We’d slipped up that once and nothing had felt as exquisite as her body clasping mine. I didn’t deserve that bit of perfection again. Not until all our secrets were on the table. It didn’t make sense that I equated skipping a rubber with revealing everything I was holding back, but it

was one more barrier between us.

For her safety, it needed to stay. All the walls did.

“Young stud. Who needs recovery time?” She reached up to comb through my hair, drawing her fingers through it from the roots to the ends.

“With you, there’s no such thing. I’d spend my life fucking you if you’d let me. That could be my official job title—Zoe Manning’s fuck boy. And I’d die happy.”

“I’ll keep you as my rocker boy, thanks.” But she grinned just the same.

I turned my face into her palm and she kept right on combing through my tangled hair with her other hand, soothing me as our heartbeats slowly returned to normal and our bodies cooled.