Page 16

SIXTEEN

HALE

“You can’t put that inside of me,” I protest, but Syd’s fingers pushing slowly in and out of my aching walls beg a different plea. My body aches to be filled, to be filled by her, and as depraved as having a foreign object inside of me sounds, and maybe will feel, I think I do want it.

“I can, and you’re going to help me,” she assures me.

“What do you mean?” I ask, but she doesn’t answer. She removes her two fingers from deep inside of me before placing the mic just between us, holding the end-address to the soft skin just above her own core.

“Ride it. Ride it for me.” Her eyes stare up into mine, and I’m easily lost in them. I’m lost in my obsession with her, and how good it feels to be craved the way she craves me. To want her, and to be wanted in the exact same way.

“Let me watch you.” She pauses, her eyes raking over me and my body that sits above her, completely bare. “Let me watch you ride me.”

“What if it fucks it up? Like, what if it won’t work anymore after this? If I get it too wet or something?” My nerves tingle all the way to my toes over how purely sensual the moment is with the beautiful girl beneath me, and all she seeks is for me to ride this fucking microphone for her.

“Then I’ll buy a new one if it breaks. If it doesn't, I’ll keep using this one on every tour until it does. There are a million microphones in this world, I’m sure, but there’s only one of you.”

I consume her words greedily, using them to fuel my muscles into moving.

My body shakes, extending my knees and shimmying up the lounge-style chair that we take up together until the tip of the microphone is poised just beneath my entrance.

I don’t know why I’m so nervous; it’s not like I haven’t had toys inside of me before.

But this isn’t a toy. This is the same microphone that I watched her dance all around the stage with while belting her heart out.

She gawks at my center, watching me sink down onto the handle of the cool microphone. Her skin is glowing from the impossible pattern of neon lights enveloping us, and between the taboo feeling of the microphone sliding against my inner walls and her beauty, I feel like I'm high.

The handle is so cool at first, the edges hard and rough against my needy walls that desperately clench in protest to its odd shape.

I can’t help but look between us, too. Where my pussy is nearly meeting her hand holding the mic steadily. My body so wet, so ready for her to fuck me, I’ve opened right up to it. My eyes return to her face to find her staring back at me, monitoring my reactions.

“You can take more,” she says breathlessly. I nod to her, lifting myself back up slightly before putting my weight back into my thrust downwards.

It feels like everything all at once, and it doesn’t stop feeling like everything. Each time she meets my thrust, lifting the mic to meet my body, the knuckles of her thumb bumping into my sensitized clit over and over again, feels fucking perfect. It feels like a new beginning.

“You’re coming with me this time,” I tell her around a moan, arching my back and turning slightly so that my hand finds her own exposed bundle of nerves.

She’s soaked entirely, and a new wave of arousal hums through my chest. My two fingers scissor her begging pink nub, massaging it gently, carefully avoiding the space beneath her clitoral hood to not cause overstimulation of the nerves too soon.

“When we get back home, you’re going to strap me properly, right?” I ask, pinching her clit for good measure.

“Anything you want, baby,” she moans for me.

“God, you’re so pretty like this. How did the bottom top the top?

” I laugh lightly, easing my way to push the tip of my finger into her sopping entrance.

“Is all of this for me?” I ask, bringing my fingers to my mouth for a taste.

“Fucking perfect.” My tongue swirls around my two fingers, tasting her arousal, knowing she needs to be touched more.

“Taste yourself with me.” The warning is small before our lips are just inches apart and she opens wide.

My saliva drops into her mouth, and my pussy clenches around the mic that she continues fucking me torturously with.

My fingers return to her core, teasing and flicking the sensitive bundle until she’s writhing beneath me, her movements with the microphone becoming so labored that neither of us can stand it anymore.

“Fuck this,” I hiss as I pull myself off the mic for the last time, taking it out of her hand to drop it on the concrete below us.

The way it glistens and drips under the lights catches my eye, but not for long.

Sydnee lifts my leg to slide hers out from beneath us, interlocking our bodies perfectly when she sits up to kiss me.

The moment both of our wet heats meet, I cry out.

Her beautiful wet flesh pulsates against mine, and our hips grind together tirelessly, working us further toward sharing the climax we both crave.

The taste of her lingers on both of our tongues, leaving my body to fight for which part of me gets to feel her.

I want to touch her and bring her to the brink of insanity with my fingers, my tongue, my own pussy, all of it.

I want to devour every sound she’s making for me.

Every moan and whimper are swallowed between the two of us.

All I can do is hope there isn’t anyone on the adjacent balconies.

I grind myself against any part of her I can, from her pubic bone to the tops of her thighs until we find a rhythm that works for us both. I’m so close when the look on her face changes, and bliss begins to set in.

“Is that it? Are you going to come against my pussy for me?” I coo to her, and Sydnee, the dominant woman she is fucking blushes for me, her breath catching in her throat as she hones in on the building orgasm.

The lines in her forehead scrunch as her body falls back against the lounge chair, leaving me to work our bodies together.

I watch her teeth sink deeply into her bottom lip, too deeply, before grasping her jaw and pushing my thumb past her opening lips.

“Suck. Suck while I make you come for me.”

She immediately obeys. Her warm tongue ravishing my finger pushes me closer to my third orgasm of the day, my second with her tonight.

“Come with me. Come with me now,” I plead, and her eyes go wide before she grips my hips, pistoning me to rub my thigh against her weeping core.

When I wake up, I assume it to be late into the night, but when I check my phone, I realize I’ve only been asleep for an hour or so.

I unravel myself in the embrace I’m locked into with Syd to look around for what could've woken me when a certain smell hits my nose. Eyes squinting, I can barely make out the boys in front of the glow from the fairgrounds that’s somehow still up and running.

Part of me aches to go see the boys, check in with them, just be near them, but leaving my beautiful girl alone in this bed feels like a crime on its own after the intimacy we’ve shared.

I bend back down and kiss her forehead, and when she doesn’t stir, I decide to pull on a shirt and my panties and go to the boys, just to check on them.

The sliding glass door is already ajar, which explains the distinct skunk smell wafting its way into the hotel room, which I know will land a theft charge on Colby’s credit card. Not that the idiot cares. When I step my bare feet back onto the cool concrete, they greet me in unison.

“Hey, brat,” Colby says, passing the joint back to Jax.

“Hi, angel,” Jax says sweetly, and I can’t help but to laugh at the polar opposite greetings.

“Hi, guys, how was shutting down? Everything go okay?” I yawn, inhaling the night air when Jax passes the joint over to me. I fill my lungs before handing it off to Colby. Jax pulls me to straddle his lap, and my body snuggles into his warmth while I wait for the buzz of the weed to kick in.

“Everything went great. Derek rode off a little bit ago. Miss that fucker, wish he would stay in town a bit longer sometimes instead of just playing and dipping, but it is what it is.” Colby sighs, looking over the railing at the Ferris wheel, I assume.

“You guys used to be close, yeah?” I whisper.

“Yeah, I get, he’s got priorities and shit.

He hasn’t been the same since his girl passed, and who’s to blame him.

It fucked him up bad, and his little girl too.

I couldn’t imagine.” His tone is low and quiet, and probably the most thoughtful I’ve ever heard him.

I’m blaming it on the high he’s probably feeling.

But still, he feels human, and as great of a snuggler as Jax is, I can’t help but wish I could hold Colby too.

“Anyway, how was your night, brat?” he asks me. I feel my cheeks burn red, and I bury my face in Jax’s chest to avoid the question, but the fuckhead tickles me instead.

“Okay, stop!” I yell, far too loud. “It was amazing. Syd, she’s amazing.”

“Oooooh,” Jax teases me, poking at my ribs again. “My girlfriend has a girlfriend, huh?”

“I’m not your girlfriend.” My eyes roll, and I shove at his chest, crossing my arms over mine.

“You could be,” Colby says matter of factly, not looking up at me as he re-lights the end of the joint, bringing it to his lips to inhale and stoke the embers back to life. I watch the red glow and consider his words carefully.

“But what does that mean? All of this?” I gesture my hands wildly.

“It means, we belong to you, and you belong to us. All of us.”

I’m at a loss for words, so I sit quietly and ponder, feeling the high seep into my extremities. Goddamn, I’m a lightweight these days, but that doesn’t stop me from taking the joint back on the next pass, holding the puff in my lungs for even longer this time, mostly as an excuse to stay quiet.

“You don’t have to decide anything right now,” Jax says, but the look in Colby’s eyes says something different entirely.