Bad Romeo (Starcrossed #1)(40)
Author: Leisa Rayven

“Oh, good,” Erika says. “Nice sense of urgency. Keep going.”

“As if I’m going to fucking stop,” he says against my mouth.

He lifts me, and I wrap my legs around his waist. He grunts and continues to kiss me while he carries me to our makeshift bed. He lays me down and climbs on top of me. I gasp when he settles between my legs.

He’s there. Right where all my tension has been building over the past few days. He’s hard and hot against me, and nothing he’s doing is enough. I want to consume him. Draw him inside until I can’t take anymore.

I grab his butt to pull him more firmly against me. He moans and circles his hips, making my fingers curl into his skin as tension builds inside me. I gasp when I feel a warm hand on my right breast.

“Okay, you’re walking a fine line now,” Erika calls out. “Watch where you put your hands.”

“Would it be okay to touch my new husband?” I call to her. “I mean, I’ve never experienced that part of a man before.” Onstage or off.

“Well,” she says. “I guess that’s true, but it can’t be too gratuitous. Touch his thigh and I’ll see what it looks like from here.”

I reach between us, and in the process, the back of my wrist brushes again Ethan’s erection.

He tenses up. “That’s not my thigh.”

“Sorry. My bad.”

He tenses his jaw. “I didn’t say it was bad, just not my thigh.”

“Okay, that looks good from out here,” Erika says. “It’s indicative of you touching him without being too obvious. Nice realistic reaction, Mr. Holt.”

“Thanks,” he says in a strangled voice as I turn my hand around so I can grip him gently.

God, he feels amazing. If he feels this good through clothes, how good would he feel naked in my hand?

I run my palm along the length of him.

“Fuck,” he says quietly. “You’d better stop.”

“Why?”

“Jesus,” he groans. “Please…”

He grunts and tries to pull away.

I kiss down his chest as I squeeze him more firmly. He hisses a loud exhale.

“Okay, Miss Taylor, that’s enough,” Erika calls. “It’s looking repetitive now.”

“Thank Christ,” Holt says as I remove my hand.

I grab the back of his neck and pull him down. We tangle again in a long, deep kiss that makes the hunger inside of me intensify.

I want him inside so much, it’s painful.

“At some point you have to take off his pants, Miss Taylor,” Erika says. “Otherwise consummating your marriage is going to be very difficult.”

Holt looks at me, panic written all over his face.

“She can’t see you,” I say as I push the pants down over his hips, revealing his flesh-toned trunks. He lifts his pelvis so I can get the pants down to his knees before he kicks them off.

“This is the most fucking embarrassing thing I’ve ever done,” he mutters as he settles back against me.

“Ditto.”

“Okay,” Erika says. “Now, we need to see the moment of actual consummation. I know this is probably challenging, and I’m sorry. It doesn’t have to be over the top, but it has to be there.”

Holt lowers his pelvis onto mine, and his face softens.

“Are you ready to lose your virginity?” he asks, and even though I know he’s joking, there’s something in his tone that makes my stomach tingle.

“Absolutely.”

“If this was real, it would hurt.”

“I know.”

He pulls his hips back and puts his hands between us as if aligning himself with me. His fingers brush against me, and I inhale in surprise.

“Here we go,” he says.

He thrusts against me, and I gasp as a look of wonder passes over his face.

Is that what he’d look like if he were inside me? Sweet Jesus.

I play my part, wincing in pain as he pushes himself hard against me.

“You okay?” he asks softly, and I don’t know who wants to know, him or Romeo.

I give both of them a small smile. “I’m fine.”

He smiles back. “Good.”

He moves, slowly and carefully. I don’t have to act to show both pleasure and pain as he slides against me, because my body is alternating between screaming out for more and moaning that it’s all too much. He watches my face, and I’m sure he can feel my desperation.

“Still haven’t had an orgasm?” he asks as he kisses down my neck to the faint mark he left at the beginning of the week. He licks it before closing his mouth over it and sucking hard.

“Don’t,” I say as I wind my fingers in his hair and tug.

He pulls back and looks down at me, his hips circling … pressing … grinding.

“Don’t mark you? Or don’t make you come?” He’s breathing just as heavily as I am.

I don’t answer.

I can’t.

I can feel it. The elusive feeling. It’s spiraling inside me, spinning and coiling in tighter and tighter circles. I hate that he can make me feel it, and I can’t. It’s too much power for him to have, and he knows it.

“If you don’t want it, just say the word and I’ll stop,” he says, his voice becoming low and rough.

I don’t say anything. I can’t speak. I’m clinging to him as he thrusts, and I hold my breath while squeezing my eyes shut and concentrating on the hard, heavy pulses that are threatening to overtake me.

“Tell me you want it,” he says, demanding and begging at the same time.

He’s moving faster, thrusting in long, firm strokes.

“I want it.”

Oh …

“Say please.”

“Please. God.”

Oh … oh …

“No, ‘Please, Ethan.’”

Oh, God, yes. Don’t stop now. Don’t stop.

“Please, Ethan.”

Please, please, please, Ethan.

It’s close. So very, very close.

“Please.” I moan. “Please, Ethan.”

He presses down, circling and thrusting and whispering my name. I can’t even think, because I’m so full up with chasing down what’s just out of reach.

“Let go, Cassie. Let yourself feel it.”

He kisses me, and as he thrusts one more time, it happens.

Oh, dear God!

I gasp and arch my back as my orgasm hits me, because none of the descriptions of waves or pulses or unwinding jolts of pleasure can prepare me for the absolute knee-buckling sensation that rages through me. My breath catches, and my muscles seize. I’m sure my eyes are as wide as saucers as I experience what has eluded me my entire life.