A photographer with a secret blog and a pop star who's lack of a love life is ruining his career, team up to fulfill both of their wants. She gains popularity, stays out of prison, and also receives the not-so-bad byproduct: money; while he and his...
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Stamina, a word that has entirely too much meaning in this hotel room.
"You're so fucking--" a deep breathy chuckle interrupts his words as his chest shudders and his eyes struggle to stay open. I watch his pleasure flooded expression as intently as I can, a foggy thrill building up alongside my very near orgasm. I squeeze around him and watch as he looks as if he's about to tip over, the pleasure too much for this solid built man to bear. "Fuck," he grunts as his head dips down.
I've never been fucked so hard in my life; I've never been this excited in my entire life. "Don't...tap out on me, Julian. There's so much more to taste," I tease him breathlessly as if I'm not on the edge myself. My eyes are heavy and nearly closed as they shoot up to his. I feel like I am begging for him to look at me even though that's one thing he can't seem to stop doing. That and thrusting so deeply inside of me that I'd think both of our lives depended on it.
"What?" He chuckles as his fingers slither around my throat and he sits up straighter. It's somehow a gentle grasp—firm and assured to leave a mark--but gentle. Despite the lightheaded feeling rushing through my senses, I feel my stomach tighten as he stares down at me with that sly smirk and those eyes clouded over with pure desire. "I've got so much fucking time to taste you, Luna. I could fuck you for days and still have time—fuck."
He's cut off by the inescapable shivers that run over his sweat drenched body. Right now, I feel so in-sync with him that I can feel them myself. My nails dig into his back as he hunches over top of me, his back arched toward the sky as he continues his rough pumps in and out of my beyond soaked pussy. I can feel heaven behind my eyelids as they anchor shut and I hold on tightly to his scent and ragged breathing in my ear.
I can't help it, but a smile curls on my lips as I ride the wave of his pleasure meeting mine. "Julian, Julian, Julian," I smile, and an almost psychotic laugh softly breaks from my throat.
The static that has built up, not only between our flushed-out bodies, but inside of me, feels like I'm watching and experiencing the best sex of my life all at once. Two worlds where both want more and one can only imagine how good it feels based on the sticky sounds and the out-of-breath-moans and the last attempts at holding onto the confidence we had in ourselves before we had sex; before we connected to make more magic than is at fucking Disney world.
He grunts deeply against the crook of my neck, and I can feel his breath warm as it mixes with the heat of my body. My struggled moans turn into hissing as he digs his teeth deep into my shoulder, his smooth lips wrapping around my skin as he sucks till I can feel the soft skin bruise and maybe even bleed.
"Fuck I'm glad I'm sober."
A deep laugh pours from his throat and soon one falls from mine. His laugh is even perfect; it's husky and smooth yet melodic and sweet like a perfectly pitched Saxaphone. I squeeze my eyes shut as he continues to laugh over top of me, the sound soothing something in my soul as the skin on my stomach reaches for his.
