Worthy of the Harmony (Mountains & Men Book 2) (4 page)

He shrugs and whistles for Maestro before he says, “They fight and then they fuck. It’s annoying as hell. One day he’ll realize her pussy just isn’t worth it. She treats him like shit. Anyway—” He swats at my backside just as Maestro joins us on the porch. “Enough about them. Let’s get naked.”

 

WE DON’T SAY A
word to the others when we re-enter the house and make our way to the stairs. I can hear the faint traces of an argument as the sound of Maddox and Andrea’s voices scale the walls of the staircase that leads to the basement. I’m impressed with the volume at which they are screaming at each other and in awe of how everyone else seems to think nothing of it. As soon as Sage and I make it to the landing of the second level, his hands are under my shirt. He splays his long fingers across my stomach, pulling me back against him as we both stagger to his bedroom.

He kisses the hair that’s draped over my ear just as we pass over the threshold. When he starts humming to me, a shiver races down my spine. And then—

 


I’ll set you free, but will you let me go?

You cage me in and now I can’t let go.

All night/One song

This room/My home

Set me free but, baby, don’t let go

Tonight/ Just give me tonight.

 

As he sings, his rich, tenor voice so smooth, his breath against my ear enticingly hot, his words meant for me—
only me
—it’s as if my entire body is suddenly aflame. I spin around to face him, my lips seeking out any piece of him that I can find. My mouth grazes his chin as my arms wrap around his neck. I follow the length of his jaw, kissing and licking, desperate to taste him.

I hear the door slam shut and then, in the blink of an eye, my back is pressed against it and I’m no longer the one delivering kisses. I don’t complain. Instead, I follow his lead, allowing him to undress me. My shirt hits the floor. Then my bra. My back bows away from the surface behind me as he takes one of my nipples into his mouth. His tongue swirls around the hardened bud and I sigh deeply as I reach up to run my fingers through his hair. He sucks hard and then lets me go with a pop. My small boob shakes and I watch as he smiles before pressing a kiss in the middle of my sternum.

“Such perfect tits, baby doll,” he murmurs before he showers the opposite nipple with the same attention. By the time he’s finished with my breasts, I’d imagine he could blow on my swollen clit and I’d come for him. I’m so wet, you’d think my pussy was desperate.

Then again, maybe it is. It’s been a couple days since this man has been inside of me. I don’t usually feel so needy after seventy-two hours. Hell, I’ve gone months without getting laid before; but ever since that first night with Sage, I feel like I can’t get enough. My body is always hungry for him. Despite my best efforts, there’s not an inch of skin on me that will ever forget him, as he’s seen fit to explore every part of me. Resistance was futile and my pride has long since surrendered to my lust.

Sage kisses his way up my chest, along my neck, and toward my lips. I pull away from him, reaching for his glasses, ready to take my turn undressing him. As I fold his horn-rimmed frames closed, he takes them from me and gently tosses them the short distance to his dresser. Much like our first night in my room, his space is lit only from the light of the moon and the street lamps that shine through his open curtains. Nevertheless, I can make out the blue of his beautiful eyes, and his hooded gaze makes me feel absolutely gorgeous. I want to crawl all over him—I want to feel the heat of his skin pressed against the heat of mine—I want his hands and his mouth everywhere—and I want it all
now.

I reach for the bottom of his shirt and he helps me take it off. When I start to unfasten the top of his jeans, he tugs at mine. His hand slips down the front, his fingers cupping my soaked thong, and I respond in kind—reaching for his hardened length inside of his boxers. He grunts, his long, thick appendage twitching at my touch.

“Want to eat your pussy,” he mutters, pressing his forehead against mine.

“Want to suck your cock,” I reply, giving him a squeeze.

He grunts once more before he frees his hand and takes hold of each side of my jeans. “You first.” He sinks to his knees and then strips my legs bare, guiding my ankles out of my pants and then my thong. He tosses both garments aside before he places his hands on my hips and turns me around. “Brace yourself, doll face.”

He nudges my legs apart, widening my stance. I clap my hands against the door just as his tongue slides along my slit. “Oh, god,” I moan, tilting my head back. He sucks my throbbing clit between his lips and and my fingers curl, trying to find purchase on a surface that will give me nothing.

“Fuck, you taste good,” he mumbles against my sex. Even just the kiss of his breath makes my legs tremble. “I'm hungry, baby doll.” He licks at my entrance, teasing me, and I whimper, pressing my flushed cheek against the cool door. “Gonna need you to come all over my tongue.” I nod, even though I know he can't see me, and then he plunges inside of me.

I can barely breathe, his mouth making it hard for me to think about anything besides the pleasure he’s giving me. He molds his hands around my backside as he flicks the tip of his tongue across my clit, and his name falls from my lips.

“Sage, oh, Sage,” I moan, and then I pull my bottom lip between my teeth.

I can feel it as every muscle in my body tenses, bracing for my release. When he pushes two fingers inside of me, curling the tips as he smothers my incredibly sensitive sweet spot with his firm, hot tongue, I can't be silenced. I come and he doesn't stop his ministrations until he's satisfied with the extent of my orgasm.

He laps up my release and then I hear it as he sucks on his fingers, humming with satisfaction. I'm still pressed against the door working to catch my breath when I feel him nip at my ass with his teeth. A grin plays at my lips as a giggle bubbles out of me, and then I sigh as he kisses his way up my back.

“I’m going to write a song about your pussy, baby. So damn delicious, I could eat you for every meal.”

“You better not,” I laugh, turning to face him. “I most certainly don’t need a room full of people singing about what’s between my legs.”

“Mmm, cities full of people,” he growls, pressing his erection against my hip. “
Countries
full of people, doll face. Everyone will love it—only I’ll get to taste it.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“But you don’t deny it,” he whispers, tracing his nose along mine. “The whole world will sing of your magnificent pussy.”

I cup my hands around his face and peer into his eyes. He’s serious. Perhaps not about the song describing his intimate relationship with my vagina—god, I hope that’s the beer talking—but the rest of it? For a moment, I think about our car ride here after the concert. Listening to him talk about the possibility of being invited on this tour, hearing his excitement—this is his dream. It’s
all
of their dreams. I don’t know if I’ve ever held a dream with such enthusiasm. Or maybe I did. Once.

I shake the thought away, irritated by the alcohol induced walk down memory lane. I don’t wish to go there. I want to be here. Now. With
him.
The dreamer.

For his sake, for the light that shines in his icy blue eyes, I want for his dreams to never know darkness.

“I hope the whole world will sing with you, Sage,” I finally manage. “Just
not
about my pussy.”

A wicked grin curls his lips and then he grips me around my waist and lifts my feet from the floor. I hook my ankles behind his thighs and he carries me across the room, not so gently depositing me on his bed. I open my mouth to grumble but then he rubs his jean clad bulge against my wet pussy and my complaint disappears.

“Hey, it’s your turn,” I breathe.

He shakes his head at me as he lifts himself onto his feet. He drops his pants and boxers, kicking them aside as he reaches for his nightstand drawer. “Need to be inside you, gorgeous,” he mutters, ripping open the condom.

I don’t argue.

He crawls back on top of me, weighing me down just enough so that I feel him from head to toe, supporting what he thinks I can’t handle on his elbows. “I like you here,” he whispers against my lips, rubbing his heavy cock against my swollen center. “In my bed.”

“Oh, yeah?”

Reaching down between us, he positions himself at my entrance and slowly invites himself inside me. “Yeah,” he breathes, blowing out what I suck in.

All thoughts of his confession are eradicated by the feeling of his cock as he pumps in and out of me. Sage stretches me open and fills me up like no one ever has before. I’m not sure I’ll ever get enough of him. It’s a truth I simply cannot deny. Every time we’re together, it gets better. He’s learning my body and I’m learning his.

“Who owns your orgasm, baby?”

“You,” I admit without hesitation. It’s true. I won’t even pretend otherwise. He always leaves me sated and exhausted in the most blissful way.

“You bet your sweet, little ass,” he mutters, pulling out of me. I gasp, surprised and disappointed, and then he smirks at me before sitting up on his knees and flipping me over. He tugs up on my hips and I prop myself up on my hands and knees, my belly anxious and my pussy longing for his return. He slides back in with ease, one hand gripping my hip, the other caressing one side of my ass. His fingers squeeze and I close my eyes, wanting nothing more than to get lost in him.

“Oh, god,” I mewl when he hits some magical spot.

That’s new
.

My insides spark, my skin tingles, and I break out into a sweat all at once.

He hits it again.

“Oh, shit, Sage—yes! Right there, right there, right there!” I gasp, my fingers clawing at his sheets. I moan and it’s loud. I should be embarrassed, but he feels too good. I can’t shut up. I won’t.

“God, Millie—can’t get enough of this pussy,” his voice rumbles as he thrusts into me faster. “Need you to come, doll face.”

My whole body is trembling. I can’t speak. I can’t breathe. I’m overwhelmed. Surely, he must know—he must know that I’m about to explode. When my orgasm bursts, euphoria flooding my veins, my voice claws its way from my throat. “Sage! Yes! Fuck—yes!”

He grunts a string of expletives, pounding into me even harder. I feel it as he grows larger and then spills his own cum. He groans as he rides out his release and then we both collapse. This time, he doesn’t brace himself, but buries me into the mattress as he weighs me down.

His skin is slick with sweat and he smells of sex and his own natural musk. It’s marvelous and I never want him to move.

“Damn, baby doll.”

“Mmmm,” I hum, offering him all I have to give.

He presses his lips into my hair and then rolls off of me and onto his back. After a couple deep breaths, I roll over as well, resting my cheek against the bed as I look over at him. I watch as he pulls the condom off, knotting it before carelessly tossing it onto the floor. I roll my eyes, too spent to offer any other protest.

When he looks over at me, he tips his chin and says, “Come ‘ere.” I roll onto my side, closing the distance between us, and he shakes his head, patting his chest. “Here.” Before I can interpret what he means, he rolls toward me, gripping me around the waist before flopping back onto his back, settling me on top of him. My hair falls around my face as well as his, my ends brushing the bed, and he reaches up to sweep the strands behind my ears. “Not done touching you, yet,” he tells me

I nod, press a kiss against his lips, and then rest my head on his shoulder. He traces his finger tips up and down my back and along my sides. I free a sigh, closing my eyes.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” he murmurs, playfully smacking my ass. “We’re not finished, doll face.”

I move positions, folding my arms across his sternum and propping my chin on my hands. “If you don’t stop touching me like that, sleep is
exactly
what will happen.” He grunts, resting his hands around my backside with a smirk. “You should probably talk to me, too.”

“About what?”

I shrug and blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. “Did you guys find anyone you’re interested in to replace Keith?” I know that Sage and the rest of the guys don’t blame me for what happened a couple weeks ago at The Wash Bar. Keith is most certainly responsible for his own horrible actions, but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel like I played a part in their loss. Just like Sage is sure he could have prevented me ending up in harm’s way that night had he found me sooner, I’m convinced they’d still have a bass player had I not shown up that night at all.

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