Light My Fire (Rock Royalty Book 1) (16 page)

"In a minute, kid," he said, as he drew off the rest of her clothes. Then he gathered her delicate nakedness into his arms, the armor of his own jeans and shirt necessary while he attempted to gain some control.

"You now," she said, her voice husky. "Come on. You promised to teach me everything."

He turned them to their sides, her back to his front, to hide the doubt and concern that surely showed on his face. How could he give her any further instruction when he couldn't say for sure what had just happened? When he didn't understand how a closed-mouth kiss on the palm of his hand—that he could feel even still—seemed so dangerous. It was something he had no experience with.

None at all, and he was afraid it might go wrong for both of them.

Chapter 9

Spooned with Ren, Cilla wiggled in his hold. His arm tightened around her and she wiggled again, secretly enjoying the scrape of denim against her bare bottom. It brushed the bulge behind Ren's zipper too, and she was ready to get a closer look at that, even as she still tingled from her latest orgasm.

Wow. Renford Colson had given her an orgasm. A
second
orgasm. And it had been fabulous, she thought, feeling a cat-with-cream smile curving her mouth. Absolutely fabulous. She wiggled deeper into his body.

But this time Ren shifted his hips away from hers, and drew her hair to the side to press a kiss on her neck, right where it joined her shoulder. "Cilla," he started. "About the hair incident—"

"Oh, no," she said. "We're done with that." Going over it again would only rile Ren and she'd more than half-believed he was actually prepared to hurt Tad when he'd first learned of it. Since then they'd moved on to newer, more pleasurable pastures and she planned on staying there.

"I think—"

"It's my business," she said, turning to face him. Her ex wasn't going to intrude here. "Promise me we're done with that."

He was already shaking his head. "No promises."

Okay, time to try another tack. "What about the ones you already gave me?"

His eyebrows drew together. "Which?"

She lowered her voice in a Ren-dition of his. "'You come again and I'll take off all your clothes. You come
again
, and I'll take off mine.'" She wanted that, badly. She wanted to be able to see and touch, kiss and caress the sinew and bone and skin that was all sexy Ren.

His lips quirked. "I probably shouldn't have said that." A look of regret entered his eyes. "And Cilla, we probably shouldn't have..."

The look, the words, felt like a stab in the side. She was in the middle of living out a fantasy and he was filled with remorse? Except... "Um, Ren, you
did
take off my clothes. If this was such a bad idea in your mind, why am I naked right now?"

He blinked, then let out a low laugh. "Christ, Cilla." His big hands ran down her back to cup her behind and a delicious shiver rolled over her skin. "The lizard part of my brain can't resist you, I guess. You're one hell of a temptation."

"You're a temptation to me, too. What's wrong with two consenting adults giving in to mutual enticement?" She gave him her best smile. "Please?"

His fingers tightened on her bottom and he adopted a mock-stern expression. "I should spank you for trying to break my will."

Her lungs seized even as an imp took over her mouth. "Maybe...maybe I'd like that." She could feel a blush bloom on every inch of her skin.

Ren's eyes closed as if he was in pain. "What am I going to do with you?"

"Anything," she whispered in the imp's seductive voice and she saw his eyes fly open. This breaking of Ren's will was getting to be fun. For obvious reasons, sex had never before been a playful subject with her, but now... "Anything your heart desires."

He groaned, then caught her fingers as they moved to his fly. "Now what did we say about the next order of events?"

And with that he turned her again, returning her body to the cradle of his with one big hand cupping her breast and the other splayed across her belly. His mouth was at her ear. "Prop your top leg on mine," he said, sliding his knee between hers.

The position slightly spread her labia, the room's air cool on the fevered, still damp flesh. Cilla's chest tightened and a hot chill ran down her back. "Um, Ren..."

He tenderly kneaded her breast as the other hand crept lower. "Your clit's very sensitive right now, isn't it?"

Cilla shivered again, finding the question both highly embarrassing and incredibly erotic.
Clit
. She'd never even thought the word in her head, but hearing it in his dark male voice made her nipples go hard. He laughed as if he knew, tweaking one, then plucking the other.

"You're sensitive all over," he continued. "So I'll be careful with you, princess. So careful until you come once more in my hand."

She didn't breathe as Ren's questing fingers drifted past her bare mons. "I like that you wax," he said. "I like how there's nothing between me and your skin."

On a moan, Cilla buried her hot face in the pillowcase. She caught the fabric with her teeth when he used his thumb and forefinger to expose the nub of flesh at the top of her sex. It throbbed, the whole area below her belly button super-sensitized. Her inner muscles clenched on nothing and she ached to be filled there.

His free hand shifted from her breast to her mouth. "Wet my fingers, baby. Lube them up for me."

She might climax just from listening to him! But when his fingertips pressed between her lips, opening her there, too, she drew them into her mouth and rolled her tongue along and over them.

"Yeah, girl," Ren praised, then pulled them free. In an instant they were rolling over her sweet spot in very light, lazy little circles. And in an instant she was moaning, pleading, so turned on she could barely hear herself over the fast
whoosh
whoosh whoosh
of blood in her ears.

"Ren." She needed him to give firmer pressure, to kiss her, to do something more. Her hands grasped his forearms, trying to communicate the fervency of her desire. "
Ren
."

"Baby," he said, scolding a little. "Take your hands away...or do I need to tie them up?"

Cilla froze, her heart pounding against her breastbone.

His whisper was hot against her ear. "I did promise you an education, didn't I?"

One-by-one, her fingers loosened their hold. She'd die, just die, if he took control that way.

Die of passion-overload.

He laughed. "Next time." And then he was kissing her neck and toying with her sex with his clever hands and she was rocking against his big body behind hers, his jeans and shirt grazing her nakedness. The sound of her panting filled the room and she was reaching, reaching, but her senses were charged to such a degree that they held her up on a wave of pleasure so strong she thought it would prevent her from tipping over into bliss.

"Let go, baby," Ren whispered in his dark voice. "Let go, baby, because then I'm going to fill you up and fuck you good."

His teeth closed over the lobe of her ear and she tumbled, falling into a breath-stealing, pulse-pounding, oh-yes-I-am-dying orgasm.

Stunned by the force of it, she lay boneless as Ren rose to stand near the end of the bed while he efficiently undressed.

It was enough to rouse her. Without a qualm, Cilla ogled him shamelessly. For so long she'd considered herself not a highly sexualized being, but as Ren was revealed to her she discovered she'd been all wrong in her thinking. His body fascinated her. He stripped off his shirt and her belly fluttered at the sight of his dark tattoo, its primitive design only highlighting the strength of him, the male architecture of his shoulders and pectorals and biceps. Her gaze dropped to his flexing forearms, the long muscles of them moving as they worked at his jeans then pushed both the denim and his boxers away.

Her gaze took in his penis. With her past few lovers—okay, two—she'd politely kept her gaze trained away from that area, but with Ren...with Ren she didn't feel polite at all. She stared at the stiff column of flesh, the veins that traced over it, the large cap, heavy and swollen. His testicles were fascinating to her too, she realized. So full and potent-looking. Manly.

All of him completely...male.

His right hand gripped his shaft, his thumb ghosting over the head. "Like what you see, princess?" His fist swept down, to the root, then below, his fingertips tracing his balls.

She shivered and she knew he could see it because he laughed, low and wicked while he caressed himself again. Then he stalked closer, his knees brushing the end of the mattress. Without conscious thought, primal instinct sent her scooting away until her shoulders hit the headboard.

With one knee on the bed, Ren paused, his gaze trained on her face, his eyes narrow. "Baby...we can halt everything right now."

Cilla stared at him, the bones and the muscles, the lean power in his body. Hers, if she wanted it. To touch, to kiss, to take into her body. The prospect nearly rendered her speechless. Maybe she'd always held back with her previous two lovers because she didn't know how to reach out, how to connect, how to actually be
with
someone. But fear or shyness or inexperience wasn't going to stop her this time. Not when it was Ren.

"Yes," she said.

"Yes, we should stop?" His voice was soft.

"No. I mean yes." Cilla shook her head, aware she was confusing him. Her arm lifted. "Yes, I want you," she said, pointing to him. A gleam came to his eye and his smile was that delightful, wicked, thrilling, dangerous Ren smile. From somewhere, a condom appeared in his hand.

Cilla shivered as he rolled it down his erection. Cock, she admonished herself. That's Ren's
cock
. "And I want that," she said, aiming her finger a little lower. "Definitely that."

He laughed again. "Oh, baby. You'll definitely get that."

Then he was on the bed with her, crawling between her legs which sprawled to invite him in of their own accord. Her heart pounded, her mouth was dry, but as she drew in ragged breaths she drew in Ren, the salty, spicy smell of him, the assurance of him, the absolute gorgeousness of him.

The head of his cock brushed the wet and willing entrance to her body. "What are you thinking?" he whispered.

"Gorgeous," she whispered back. "You're so gorgeous."

And then he buried his face in her neck as he pushed into her body. She sucked in a breath—he was big and she was still swollen from her orgasms—and willed herself to open for him. Her body's protest was token, because the slow slide, the thick pressure of his entry felt so good.

He groaned, his breath hot on her skin. "God, Cilla."

Yes, they both wanted this.

She forked her hand in his hair and wound one leg over his hips. He slid in another crucial distance and they both moaned.

"Are you good?" he whispered against her ear, his body still over hers.

Hot tears pricked as she realized he was waiting for her to adjust to him inside her. "Oh, yeah," she said against his hard, bristly cheek. "I'm very,
very
good."

Then he began to move. It was an age-old rhythm, she supposed, but it felt wholly new to Cilla, because it was Ren rocking into her body, Ren's cock she squeezed down upon, Ren's flesh that went hot and damp under her hands as they roamed his back.

She tilted her hips, an instinctive move to take him deeper, and his next moan was low and dark. Her eyes closed and she reveled in the feel of him against her skin, inside her body. One hand stayed in his hair and the other squeezed his shoulder as his palms slid under her bottom to cradle her.

His strokes went from glides to something harder. Faster. More desperate.

Still, it all felt magical to Cilla. Her fantasy. Ren Colson in her bed and in her body. She was a woman who worked her imagination—or her work
was
her imagination—each costume make-believe. And this was just like that...she was in the dream zone, floating on the awesomeness of it. She tightened her arms and legs around him.

Then Ren moved his mouth from her neck to bite her lower lip.

Cilla's back bowed. Dream became urgency. Floating became striving. She lifted into his driving body, taking, taking, taking. Accepting the masculine penetration with every cell. From somewhere far away, she heard a whimper.

It was hers. Needy. Needing.

Ren lifted up, repositioning so her thighs were over his and he could still plunge into her but he had access to more of her. That knot of nerves.

Catching her gaze, he wet the fingertips of his right hand with his tongue. Then, planting his left palm to the mattress, he hovered over her, fucking her like she'd asked, while he played with her clit like it was his favorite toy. She felt the pleasure gather, and her inner muscles clamped onto his cock. He groaned, but didn't change a thing.

Kept driving.

Kept toying,

And then she shattered, her body jolting upward to take everything she could get of Ren.

She saw the fingers of his left hand clench the sheet and then he was jabbing in short strokes, never quite leaving her body.

Thank God.

His jaw went tight, his eyes squeezed shut, and then he found his own pleasure on a groan that sounded pulled from his soul.

When it was over, when he'd pulled out of her while kissing her shoulder, then gone to the bathroom—condoms, what a PITA—he returned to gather her into his arms. Cilla let her eyes drift close, skipping over the PITA-condom issue to return to the fantasy world of Cilla and Ren together in bed.

She sighed, snuggling her cheek into his chest. Probably there were consequences, but not now. Not when her body was sated and her senses so full.

"Tomorrow," Ren murmured into the hair at the top of her head.

"Mmm." She dismissed whatever he meant by that. There was no tomorrow. Only tonight. This moment. This fanciful, pleasurable instant in time. Why couldn't a rock princess adopt some of the hedonistic ways of her rock 'n' roll father?

Ren wrapped his free hand around his mug of coffee and stared out the kitchen window as his assistant chattered in his ear. It was late morning in L.A. and since London was eight hours ahead, he'd caught her at home when her official work day was over. Still, Raina sounded much more energized than he felt. Of course, she was the antithesis of the cool Brit stereotype and ran his office in Pimlico with cheerful verve and not a small amount of cheek.