Page 15 of Wild Infatuation (Rebel Rockstars #3)

Instead of answering, he snags the front of my shirt, hauling me back to his mouth.

His hot kisses are answer enough as supplies rattle around while he gropes blindly for them.

He throws them on the bed, but I hardly notice because a second later, he’s throwing me to the mattress as well.

Shawn stands over me as he peels off his shirt, taut muscle and bright tattoos on display as he reaches over his head to discard the garment.

The ink curls down his arms and winds across his chest. One snakes up his side in stark black ink.

Another coils toward his hip and disappears into his pants.

My mouth goes dry, especially as Shawn crawls over me and starts unbuttoning my shirt. I regret the choice now. It takes precious seconds to undo all the buttons and strip the shirt off, and my blood is suddenly boiling so hot I can hardly stand it.

He goes for my pants next, impatient and greedy. I didn’t even take my shoes off. They thunk onto the floor as Shawn gets them out of his way so he can strip me.

Before he can climb back onto me, I sit up, helping with his pants as he stands up on his knees. It places me at the perfect height to lick along his thick, hot cock as it springs free, and I barely get his pants past his knees as he moans.

“Fuck,” he grunts.

Expletives seem to be all he can manage in moments like these, but I’ve already learned that those harsh, bitten off sounds are a good sign. Shawn scrambles to get his pants the rest of the way off, too urgent to wait for me to do it.

The nudity hits both of us in the same moment.

We didn’t get this last time, too worried about being quick and efficient in that wardrobe car, and for a beat we simply eye each other up.

I don’t know what he could see in my plain, ordinary form when he’s all bright tattoos over hard muscle, but his eyes darken as the pupils blow out, and he nearly attacks my mouth.

I wrap my arms around his shoulders and hold on as he kisses the breath out of me.

Body meets body, legs tangling, hands grasping, hips shimmying as our hard cocks press at each other.

Shawn lunges for my neck, and I gasp, head tilting back and eyes closing as I writhe with pleasure beneath his larger frame.

That handy was everything in the moment, but being skin-to-skin with him blows it out of the water.

Everywhere our bodies meet burns like the flesh might melt off.

My heart pounds like it’s trying to reach out of my chest for him.

I jerk my hips, overcome by how much I need this and more, more !

Shawn must feel the same. He breaks from my neck with a wet pop and fumbles for the stuff he threw on the bed.

Thank God he’s quick about that part because I’m not sure I could hold myself together if I had to lie here and drink in the sight of him for even a moment longer.

Before I can get too caught up in how simply, ridiculously gorgeous he is, his slick hand is on me, fingers prying for the place where they need to open me up.

I gasp when he finds my entrance and sinks a finger inside, soon followed by another. He watches me like I’m going to object, but I wasn’t kidding when I asked him for this. I made damn sure it could happen, in fact, even though I thought it was impossible.

It’s feeling a lot more possible with his fingers inside me, my body flushing anew from the teasing pressure. It’s not enough, and I groan between my teeth and tell him so.

“Shawn,” I gasp. “I’m ready.”

I roll over to make it easier for him, pushing my hips up in a blatant display of desire.

Shawn doesn’t hesitate this time. We’ve shattered that barrier, as though it fell off along with our clothes.

One arm braces beside me, and his cock nudges my loosened hole.

I suck in a breath as it pushes inside me, but pure bliss accompanies the pinch as he stretches me open.

“You’re tight,” he grunts.

This time, I’m the one with nothing to offer but noises and expletives. As he splits me open, all my words fall away, my body tight and tense all the way up to my throat.

We pause, breath gusting as we sink into this impossible moment. I cling to the sheets beneath me, and when I shift my hips a little to adjust, Shawn groans.

“You can move,” I groan. “Pl—”

I don’t finish before he takes the invitation, cock spearing deeper and knocking the breath out of me.

When he pulls back, I suck down a shaky breath, but I don’t get a moment to recover from the shock before he’s plunging back in.

I thrill from the neediness of every thrust. He didn’t wait a second once I let him in, just grabbed my hips and went for it.

Desire shivers through the fingertips digging harder and harder into my hips as he settles into a demanding rhythm.

Sounds leap out of me, incoherent, high-pitched nonsense.

I cling to the mattress and let it happen, let my voice echo around his huge penthouse at the top of the city.

My head swirls when I remember where I am and who I’m with, but he punches the thought out of me a second later when he spears me open yet again.

“Holy … shit ,” he moans as he takes me.

He sounds every bit as ragged as I feel, and that only intensifies the pleasure burning its way through my whole body.

There’s nothing left but tension and heat and the sparks flashing behind my eyes when I squeeze them shut.

My body lies completely open before him, and Shawn plunges in with abandon.

I shuffle a hand under myself as the pressure verges on too much. He makes a choking sound when I grab myself; my whole body responded to my own touch, and he can definitely feel that from so deep inside me.

“God … even tighter…” he grits out.

I love giving him that. I love surprising him.

I love feeling him pound my insides harder as passion overwhelms him.

I stroke myself hard and fast, trying to keep up, but I’m more focused on his fingernails biting my skin and his shredded breaths and his surging hips than I am on my own cock.

Even as the end approaches, most of my awareness goes to Shawn’s body slapping against my ass as he throws himself at me to find his edge.

He doesn’t scream, but I do. The moment he goes rigid inside me, I pump myself so hard and fast I see stars, then I’m bursting over my hand, my voice ringing out as pleasure thunders through me in a flood.

My whole body clenches around him, milking this moment for every last drop of ecstasy it can offer, until I’m collapsing in a useless heap on his bed, my mess clutched in my hand.

Shawn collapses atop me, still inside me as his cock softens, chest pressing against my back as he breathes hard, his weight pushing me into the mattress. I could stay this way forever, mess and all, and fortunately Shawn doesn’t seem all that keen to move yet.

He groans and kisses the back of my neck as he eases out of me.

I didn’t realize there was a bathroom up here, but there must be because I don’t hear him go far before he’s back with a towel for me.

I accept, but sitting up leaves me light-headed after what just happened.

Fortunately, Shawn doesn’t hurry me out of his home, merely sits quietly beside me on his bed.

It takes me a few minutes to realize he’s staring down at his hands, and not out of exhaustion. His shoulders are hunched, dark hair falling over his face. That is not the way a man should look after he comes, and my stomach gives a sick lurch.

“Is something wrong?” I say, terrified of the answer but needing it nonetheless.

He looks up at me, and the mere fact he’s looking up speaks to how much he’s hunched in on himself.

“No, it’s just…”

No good sentence has ever begun that way. I tense, wondering what I could have done wrong. Did he not actually want this? He was the one who invited me here, and if the physical evidence is anything to go by, he had a pretty decent time.

“Listen,” he says, and the words spill out like he’s rehearsed this speech a hundred times in his head, “they’re sending us to New York in a couple days for some stupid publicity thing, and … just don’t worry about whatever you see while we’re there, okay?”

I knit my brows in confusion. I can’t imagine what I’d see that would be a problem. He’s in a band that recently filmed a music video for a new single. Of course they’re doing publicity.

“Of course,” I say. “I understand. It’s your job.”

“Yeah, but…”

He trails off, shakes his head at himself, looks back down at his hands clasped between his knees.

The difference between this man and the one who fucked me is night and day, and it’s more than I can untangle while my body’s buzzing from the sex.

The really, really good sex. The sex that should be leaving me on an incredible high if it weren’t for this odd epilogue.

“Shawn, it’s fine,” I say. “Whatever you have to do for the band, I know you’re making the right decision. Your music is important. All I want to know is if I can see you again afterward.”

He jerks his gaze back up. His eyes shine, offering a glimpse of something locked deep, deep down, but all he says is “yes” and kisses me, and I forget to care about whatever I might have seen.