Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 60750 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 304(@200wpm)___ 243(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60750 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 304(@200wpm)___ 243(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
Fuck.
What’s wrong with me?
It’s obvious that Van is just using all of these suggestions as some form of dirty talk. He’s probably getting more turned on by the taboo of it all, not because he actually wants to share me with Rhys and Cameron.
And yet, I’m getting turned on by just thinking about it, my mouth nearly watering as I think about Rhys’s huge cock. I wonder if Van and Cameron would want to take turns fitting their shafts inside my pussy or if one of them would prefer to slide their cock deep inside of my ass, instead—
No.
I need to stop. All of this is just supposed to be some fun, fucked-up fantasy. Besides, it’s not like Cameron has ever shown any interest in me outside of the studio. I mean, sure, there was that one time after our first concert where I was pretty damn sure we had a moment between us, the kind of moment that could have led to him fucking me up against one of the tables backstage.
But as far as I know right now, Cameron is the last guy standing, the last guy in the band who isn’t expressly interested in fucking me in his free time. Which means that I need to stop daydreaming about him fucking me, especially while Van is still inside of me, his thrusts so strong that they’re causing my chest to pleasurably rub against the bedsheets as a result, my nipples aching each time I move.
“Van...” I moan his name, another orgasm building up between my thighs. “Van...I’m so close…”
“I don’t care,” Van calmly replies. “I don’t care how many times you come, princess. We’re not going to be finished until I’m finished with you, until I say it’s time for you to stop being fucked.”
“Van...” I moan his name again, something inside of me snapping into a million satisfied pieces after he speaks, my skin turning impossibly warm as I come right on Van’s still-thrusting cock. I then let my head rest against the mattress, as Van continues to move inside of me, my body happily taking each of his thrusts, my pussy inevitably leaving a stain underneath me from how wet he’s been able to make me ever since he first kissed me downstairs.
And as Van perfectly fucks me, my mind drifts off somewhere peaceful and quiet—almost like as long as Van is inside of me everything’s going to be fine. I then feel the usual bout of anxiety completely disappearing that the longer Van claims my pussy as his own, the longer he claims me too.
I smile to myself, absolutely elated that Van and I decided to go through with our worst idea ever.
Chapter 11
Van
Shit.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
How am I going to break the news to Rhys that I’m sleeping with Alyssa now? It’s obvious that he has some real feelings for her, no matter how misguided they are. Honestly, I’m not even sure he knows how to have feelings for a woman, but even so, I still don’t want to be the asshole that causes him to leave the band for good. As much of a wingnut Rhys might be at times, he’s still a fucking star, and we need him.
If there’s a way that everyone can just be adults about this, everything can keep going along. It’s not like we’d be the first band in history to have romantic inclinations bleed into the behind-the-scenes lives of its members, and it’s not like Rhys and Alyssa were engaged or something before we slept together.
Really, the way I figure it, Rhys simply has a little crush on Alyssa and nothing more. The only reason he’s pursuing her so much is because she’s the one woman who’s no longer responding to his advances. If she were to return his affections, he would chalk it up as a win and move on.
Or maybe that’s just what I need to keep telling myself so that I don’t feel like there’s a big storm waiting for us right around the corner.
“…Are you okay?” Alyssa whispers from her place right beside me. We’ve just sat down in a quiet corner of the hotel’s rooftop, an exclusive section mostly reserved for people willing to shell out a few thousand dollars for the opportunity to get a view of the San Francisco skyline.
Before this, we picked up a dinner to-go from the hotel lobby, courtesy of the symposium staff. Worried about running into Rhys again, I convinced Alyssa to come up to the rooftop with me for a private meal, hoping that she wouldn’t be able to read between the lines of the impromptu invitation.
“You’ve been quiet most of the night,” she whispers again, her eyes trained on mine. “…You’re not like…you don’t regret what we did earlier, do you?”
“No,” I quickly respond. “No, princess. I don’t regret anything we did. Not even a moment of it.”