My tip breaks through the tight muscle, his body welcoming me—pullingme—inside. We let out a shared groan once I’m fully seated, the velvet heat of his channel almost too much. I haven’t even thought about sleeping with anybody else since him, and I’ve been so busy getting ready for the tour, I’ve barely had any time to spend with myself in this department, so to say I’m jonesing for this right now would be a massive understatement.
“Shit, princess,” I groan, my head falling back onto my shoulders. “You feel like fucking heaven wrapped around me.”
Rowan bites down on his bottom lip, fighting back a smile.
I pull out to the tip, sliding back in, nice and slow. His hole clenches, his cock leaking a puddle onto his stomach. Leaning down, my tongue laps up the mess, his salty, sweet flavor erupting on my taste buds.
It doesn’t take long for me to lose all sense of resolve, my thrusts getting sharper, rougher as my pelvis grinds against his ass. I don’t hold back, but neither does he. His fervid cries fill the room, his hands fisting the sheets below us so tight, his knuckles blanch.
“Oh, fuck… oh, fuck! I’ve missed this,” he moans. “I’ve fucking missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too,” I growl, the words surprising me as they come out. Not because I don’t mean them, but because it’s not something I’d usually admit to.
Wrapping a hand around his neglected dick, I pump him to the same rhythm I’m fucking him with. He gasps, grappling at my wrist. “I’m going to come if you don’t stop.”
“Good, I want you to. We have all night,” I tell him, feeling the tell-tale sign of my own release start to creep up. “This is only round one, baby.”
As if that was his permission, his body tenses before his cock pulses thick spurts of cum all over his stomach. He cries out, a long, low, continuous moan that sets me off, balls tightening as I spill deep inside of him.
Rowan doesn’t unwrap his legs from around my waist, so when I collapse beside him, he rolls onto his side with me, my softening cock still inside of him as he buries his face into my neck. The hot breath on my skin gives me chills, sending goosebumps all over.
Everything about this moment feels right. It feels like I can finally breathe.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-THREE
Rowan
Iwoke up alone this morning.
At first, I didn’t remember where I was. Thought I was just in my hotel room, waking up like usual. But then, Caspian’s scent washed over me as I buried my face in the pillows, everything about last night flooding back in. I started to panic, thinking he left, maybe regretting what happened between us.
Thankfully, he was just in the shower. He hadn’t left me. In fact, when he strolled back into the room, water droplets glistening from his skin, and saw me awake, he smiled before coming over and giving me a kiss. His warm breath was minty and clean, whereas mine probably reeked of morning breath. If it did, though, he didn’t seem to mind, even when his tongue slipped into my mouth, softly licking against mine.
It made my morning wood harden up a little more, but when he noticed, all he did was chuckle, telling me we didn’t have time for that this morning.
We finally tapped out after three rounds, passing out close to five in the morning. It’s nine now, and my eyes burn from exhaustion, but he has to get a move on. The band flies to their next stop today. I’m flying out too, but my flight isn’t until much later. Part of me is wondering if continuing to follow him on tour is foolish. What if, after last night, he doesn’t want me to come with? I, of course, want to, but I’m nervous to see how he feels.
I roll out of bed and go take a shower while he gets dressed. The plane ride from here to Tokyo is about ten hours, and I most definitely plan to spend at least the majority of that time sleeping. By the time I get out and dry off, Caspian’s sitting on the balcony, the French doors open, letting the breeze inside. He’s smoking a cigarette, and there are two cups of coffee on the table beside him.
He made me coffee.I don’t know why that makes my heart squeeze, but it does.
With clammy palms and nerves coating my insides, I step outside, sitting beside him. He wordlessly hands me his pack of smokes and a lighter, raking his gaze over me without shame. Lighting it, I take a drag before grabbing the coffee and taking a sip. It tastes like it has hazelnut in it, maybe.
“Thank you,” I murmur, holding the mug up when he glances at me to see what I mean. “It’s good.”
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t worried about him freaking out now that the sun can shed light on everything that happened last night. It wouldn’t be unlike him, but that wouldn’t make it hurt any less.
“I’m uh…” He clears his throat, clearly preparing himself for whatever he’s going to say. It makes my stomach clench. “I’m not good at any of this shit.”
“Not good at what shit?”
Caspian exhales, shaking his head. “I’m really glad you’re here,” he admits softly. He won’t look at me and his jaw is clenched tight, body language disagreeing with his statement.
I remain quiet while my insides scream and flutter at hearing that, smoking the rest of the cigarette while he gathers himself.
“Look, I’m sorry I assumed the worst at Black Diamond, and I’m also sorry for hitting you that day. You didn’t deserve that at all.”
“Cas, it’s okay,” I interject.
