Curve Struck (A Celebrity Stepbrother Romance) (11 page)

"Baby...Mel..." Panic crept into Declan's voice. "Are you okay? Did I hurt you? I shouldn't have let it go this far today...not after Strake."

She wanted to hold him, then realized he was already holding her, his hands brushing at her wet hair and the tears flooding her cheeks.

"No," she answered, the single syllable broken even as her emotions started to settle. "I just never felt like that."

"Oh."

The sound came out pleased and cocky and she knew that if she could force her eyes to focus and see past all the shadows in the barely lit room, she'd find a confident grin on his handsome face.

"Wait...you're not saying..."

And BOOM, cocky grin gone.

She laughed. "No, you didn't just punch my V-card."

But he sure as hell had shredded her O-card!

She laughed again then covered her face with one hand.

He pulled her hand away and feathered her cheeks with short, light kisses.

"Good, I want you to have someone to compare me against and know I blow every other guy out of the water with how good I'll make you feel."

Declan chuckled as he finished pressing another kiss to her face. "I swear your cheeks just got hotter."

He couldn't see that she had blushed at his bold claim because it was true, but she had definitely felt her cheeks heating from his words.

"They might have," she agreed.

His mouth moved to her neck. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and it suddenly struck her that he was completely dressed except for the shoes he had left on the floor in her bedroom.

"Take this off," she urged, plucking at the tight compression shirt.

"I will upstairs," he said, the grin back in his voice as he dodged her hands to slide down the couch. He gathered the clothes he had stripped from her as he went and the shoes she had kicked off before climbing onto the couch, then stood with everything cradled in his arms. "Come on baby girl, there's more I want to do with you -- a lot more."

Clutching one of the throws to her chest, she moved to the end of the couch. Wrapping her hand around his wrist, she tugged. "What's wrong with here?"

She didn't want to leave the darkness or the magic that continued to unfold on the screen. Even if the room was a shrine to the wizardry that was Hollywood, she felt like she was in a safe cocoon where the real Hollywood couldn't get in, couldn't judge her so that she felt inadequate in his arms, moving beneath him, offering up her unconditional pleasure to his greedy tongue.

Freeing his hand from her hold, he wrapped it around the back of her head and held her for a slow kiss full of tongues and teeth and swollen lips before he pulled away.

"No condoms down here, Mel," he explained. "Believe me, I want to move fast with you after the long wait, but not that fast."

The long wait?

Her lips pressed together, mashing and rolling. She needed him to not say things like that -- things that suggested his interested had started before Colorado and finding out that Roger had married her mother.

He bent down with a light growl and claimed another kiss.

"Baby, whatever thoughts are bouncing around inside that beautiful head of yours, I promise the things I'm about to do to your luscious body will get them to shut up."

"Yeah?" The growl had sent a delicious cascade of shivers down Melanie's back, their sensations strong enough to chew at the edges of her doubt. "You saying you keep a big ole can of shut the fuck up in your bedroom?"

"No," he shot back with a laugh. Finding her hand, he pressed it against his rock hard cock. "I carry the can wherever I go."

Holy Habanero, did he ever!

Okay, Melanie. Stop thinking and get back to screwing this gorgeous man!

Keeping the throw wrapped around her, she climbed off the couch and followed after him as he led the way to his bedroom.

Declan paused at least half a dozen times to look back, as if he was making sure she hadn't changed her mind and run off in a different direction. Each time he looked back, her cheeks warmed and her eyes instantly went elsewhere except for once, when she saw him crowd the bundle of her clothes and shoes into one arm and stroke that spot on his nose, his cheeks turning as hot as her own felt when he caught her watching him.

"Our destination," he said, reaching the double doors and pushing one open.

He called out for lights and the room was instantly illuminated.

Trusting Melanie not to hang back this time, Declan took her clothes over to his dresser and folded them into a neat stack atop its surface then placed the shoes on the floor.

She took a few steps forward until she was just beyond the threshold. The walls were a stark white. Dark wood flooring and furniture provided a sharp contrast. But all the white made the room incredibly bright, not like the cocoon of the screening room.

"Soon, you won't be thinking about anything," Declan promised as he walked over to one of the bed's two nightstands and picked up a remote control. "So try relaxing a bit, baby girl."

A few presses on a button and the lights dimmed to a more intimate level. Another button was pressed and the curtains blotted out the night. Even though she knew the tinted windows kept the outside world from looking in, his closing the curtains made it feel more private to her.

"The ultimate bachelor's room," she teased as a few more strokes at the device played what sounded like whales singing to one another deep under the ocean.

"More like a lazy man's bedroom."

"Except you're not lazy," she said as he walked towards her, his gaze fixed on where she clutched the edges of the fur throw to keep it from falling off.

"Neither are you, Miss Sunrise to Sunset." His fingers wrapped around the edges of the throw, but he didn't force it open, just used it to tug her closer. "Heck, you were always on set before sunrise and long after sunset."

"Well, that's wardrobe for you," she tried to joke, the words coming out in little spurts as she fought to keep oxygen coming into her lungs.

She couldn't believe she was in his bedroom, that they had done what they had done and that there was more he planned on doing to her.

"I think we should drop wardrobe for a while," he teased, tugging at the throw again as his mouth nuzzled her throat.

Keeping one hand firmly gripping the two corners of the throw, she pushed at his chest with her other hand.

"Says the man who's still got everything but his running shoes on."

Chuckling, he pulled away and peeled the compression shirt off like a banana sliding out of its skin. Reaching down, he stripped of his socks with a quick one-two lift of his legs.

The pants came off more slowly, the lack of speed clearly deliberate. Shoving his fingers under the waistband at each hip, Declan pushed the fabric an inch downward, then pulled it half an inch upward, the progress so tantalizingly slow Melanie almost lost her grip on her own covering.

The head of his cock came into view, every bit as thick as the outline had promised. Her chest and pussy constricted at the same time as she wondered how she was going to take him in, especially the first time.

Please let there be lube, she prayed to whichever saint was responsible for handling carnal requests. St. Peter, no doubt.

She giggled at the thought.

"Excuse me," Declan growled playfully and hid his beautiful cock as punishment for her short, staccato burst of laughter.

Blushing madly and wanting the show to continue, she confessed her thoughts. "I was praying to St. Peter there would be lube in with the condoms."

His laughter joined Melanie's and the teasing stopped with a quick slide of his hands that pushed the pants down to his knees. Gravity took over and he stepped out of the fabric and kicked it aside.

"Take a seat, Mel," he ordered and pointed at the end of the bed.

She sat down, the throw still around her.

"Care to touch?" he asked, standing about a foot in front of her, legs spread and feet planted on the sheepskin rug that ran under and around the king size bed.

Wanting to do far more than touch, Melanie licked her lips.

Damn it was a beautiful cock -- scary, too, with its big size. But she loved the look of its texture, the skin prominently veined in his aroused state. The color was a healthy pale red that darkened as it reached the head.

To touch it, though, she'd have to release her iron grip on the throw. And the same light that let her drink in the texture of his cock would reveal all her textures to Declan once she abandoned the throw.

He said nothing, but a ripple of muscle played along his stomach to push the fat crown toward her.

Fuck, just go with it! Stop thinking and start doing -- start doing him.

Eyes fluttering shut with need, she reached out and blindly wrapped both hands around the thick shaft. A groan left her as she noted the contrast between the hot flesh pulsing beneath her fingers and the cool, conditioned air circulating the room to pluck at her aching nipples.

Opening her eyes, she drew him to her and looked up with a long sweep of lashes. She inhaled, her senses luxuriating in the musky, masculine smell of his body. Sighing, she closed her eyes again and took her first lick.

Declan groaned. "I promise, that's not where I was leading you."

Good, she thought, taking another lick. He was packing too much meat for her small mouth. But that didn't mean she couldn't run her tongue up and down its length, or cradle his heavy balls in the palm of her hand while she savored his taste.

Another groan and she felt the quiver that rolled through him before his hands captured the sides of her head.

"I want to be in you," he begged. "I want your legs wrapped around my hips. I want my hands filled with your ripe, heaving breasts, I want to torture those deliciously thick nipples like I promised to once I had you all soft and liquid beneath me."

A wistful smile pulled at her mouth as she remembered how she had sharply twisted his nipple in the limo when she had been desperate not to come from his touch.

She didn't want to give in so easily. She looked up, batted her naturally long lashes. "Are you saying I can't suck and lick you?"

His face screwed around its center with a moment's agony, but he shook his head, denying her for the time being. "You can lick me later -- when my cock's covered with your cream, baby girl. Now up the bed you go."

Sweet Heavens, he did not just say that!

Just thinking about it made her pussy gush fresh cream to slick her thighs and darken the silky, aquamarine bedspread beneath her.

Without protest, she crawled up the bed, not thinking about the sight she must be presenting to him, her overflowing curves rolling with each forward slide of her legs, her heavy breasts brushing against the bedding, the nipples swollen and tugged at by gravity until she rolled, shaking with need, onto her back.

"You're killing me, Mel." Declan climbed onto the mattress, pushed her thighs apart then grabbed her ankles and forced her knees to bend until the back of each heel touched the back of each thigh and she was splayed open to him.

"My dick feels like it's going to fall off from the need to be buried in you, but the rest of me just wants to eat this sweet pussy all night long."

Melanie exhaled, slow and shaky. She wanted both -- somehow at the same time.

Grinning, Declan settled his tight, fine ass on his heels and stared down.

"Don't get mad at me for this, okay?"

Looking at Declan's face, all Melanie saw was the look of a kid caught with his hand stuck in the cookie jar, his mouth overflowing with the cookies he had already stuffed inside.

"Mad at you for what?" she asked.

"Ever hear of Emma Coventry?"

Melanie shook her head, her mouth quirking at the mention of another woman while he was supposed to be making love to her.

"Maybe you've heard of
Coventry Cocks
?" he asked.

Melanie's mouth dropped open. Coventry Cocks she had heard of but thought it was a joke -- that there really couldn't be at least a couple dozen Hollywood hunks and studio execs going around with perfect replicas of their genitals.

Surely that was just a rumor.

"I'll take that as a yes." Sliding off the bed, his real cock leading the way, Declan disappeared behind another set of double doors. "I swear, this never left the box before today. I had it made after
Alpine
when the Grim Reaper wouldn't stop stalking me."

Hearing him call Carla Ledder by her industry nickname, Melanie chuckled from the bed. The injection of humor, however, didn't stop her from reaching at the same time for the fur throw to hide beneath in case she had to run back to her bedroom and bar the door.

Because -- seriously -- was he really saying he had a replica of his junk?

"It was supposed to be a 'fuck off' prank but..."

"She flew to Vegas and married Tobie Gibson."

"Exactly," Declan said, emerging from what Melanie guessed was the closet with a black box.

He lifted the lid, placed it on the nightstand and pulled out the dildo hiding inside. She gasped. In the flesh, it looked formidable, but not as formidable as it did isolated from the rest of his body.

He held it alongside the real thing. "Close match, don't you think?"

Forgetting that she might want to run away, Melanie rolled toward the offering. She ran a finger down the most prominent vein on his cock then looked at the dildo to find it perfectly mirrored. Mouth watering, she managed to close her thumb and index finger around eighty to eighty-five percent of Declan's circumference just below the head of his cock. She repeated the measurement on the replica, a knot forming in her pussy as it, too, matched.

"Now," he grinned and pulled open the drawer on his nightstand, "you get to be the one woman who knows what it's like to have me lick your pussy at the same time I'm fucking you with my cock."

She bit hard at her lip, her body already vibrating from the promise. Pulling out a condom and a bottle of lube, Declan resumed his position on the bed. With no more than a commanding lift of one eyebrow, he effectively commanded Melanie to return her legs to the position he had left her in, everything spread wide with her heels tucked up against her ass.