Star Struck (Lights, Camera #2) by Laurelin Paige-bilion (Page 17)

Star Struck (Lights, Camera #2)(17)
Author: Laurelin Paige

Yeah, he was sure she was drunk. If she wasn’t, she would have defended her acting. There were other signs. He could still smell the liquor on her breath. She’d been dead weight when he’d carried her—she couldn’t have faked that. Her discarded panties were still wrapped around one ankle as though she may have had trouble getting out of them. And sweet as her kisses may be, they were also sloppy.

Definitely drunk.

Question was, did he care?

“I do not take advantage of drunken women.” There was no pretending his words were for her. He was reminding himself. Fat lot of good his self-scolding did—his hands had already made their way down to caress her fine ass.

Her hand lowered as well, clutching his hard as f**k dick through his jeans. “It seems like I’m the one taking advantage of you.”

The sirens in his head increased. He was seconds from disaster and if he had any hope of walking out of this, he had to assume control of the situation. Now.

In one swift movement, he threw her down on the bed, his body pressed against her so that her hands were pinned over her head. “Heather, stop!”

But now she was where he dreamed of having her—naked and underneath him, her sexy body soft and submissive.

And when she stared up at him under hooded lids, desire brimming in her eyes, the battle was lost. With a growl that was half frustration, half lust he said, “When I f**k, I take the lead.”

His mouth came down hard against hers, devouring her lips with a frenzy he reserved for more serious relationships. He usually liked to ease into rough play, but this woman brought it out in an abundance that surprised him.

Heather, however, didn’t seem offended, but delighted. She matched his tongue’s frenetic strokes, gasping as he licked deeper into her mouth. When he’d claimed her lips at the theater, the kisses had been stolen—he’d taken what he wasn’t sure she was willing to give. Now, though, his assurance of her willingness gave him free reign so he took and took and took.

Her wriggling underneath him reminded him she had more body to explore. He licked along the trail of bites he’d left earlier. He couldn’t deny the burst of satisfaction he felt from their presence on her otherwise flawless skin. She might not be his by any stretch of the imagination, but for today—and for as long as her skin remained red from his marks—she couldn’t dispute that he’d been there. And now she was allowing him more.

At her br**sts, he began his feast.

Her ni**les stood at perfect attention, calling to him. He took one spire into his mouth, drawing in as much of her plump breast as he could. He sucked and pulled at her tender skin until she cried out. Then he repeated the action on her other breast. Fuck if her cries didn’t drive him to pull further, to suck harder. The woman seemed to enjoy it. So many women wanted to be treated delicately, and he often had to hold back. Heather’s body, though, begged for it—craved it. He could smell her desire wafting from her pu**y, and the way she shivered and arched her back into his lips, he knew she loved it.

He lingered over her tits until they bore marks that would likely still be there in the morning. Then he slipped his hands underneath her slim thighs and pushed them forward, her panties falling off her foot from the movement. She squealed as he bent her knees into her chest opening her to him. Just him.

Jesus, her pu**y was gorgeous.

She had one tiny strip of short hair that covered her cl*t and trailed down to her hot opening. He stared at the beautiful sight for several heated seconds. He could have stared longer, but Heather’s fingers found their way into his hair and shoved him down to her core.

“Come on,” she mumbled. “Need you.”

His conscience screamed at him, trying once more to convince him that going any farther would be utterly unscrupulous, but the buzz of his own desire drowned it out. He was too eager, too lost in his lust-filled haze to do anything but give in to Heather’s request.

He propped one of her long legs over his shoulder then lowered his mouth until he was almost touching her. “Is this what you want?” He swiped her strip with one slow brush of his tongue.

“Yes! Please!”

His eyes teased her as he lifted her other leg to drape over his other shoulder. “Should I give you more?”

“Yes, yes! Please, more!”

He adored her pleading, wanted to hear her beg for his cock. But first, he’d ease her longing. Show her he could be sweet when he wanted to. He licked her again then zeroed in on her clit, which was swollen with want. Swirling his tongue around her bud, he alternated with light and rough pressure until she was trembling beneath him. Then he went in for the kill. He plunged two fingers deep into her wet hole as he sucked her cl*t into his mouth with the same intensity he’d applied to her br**sts.

“Fuck, yes!” Her breathing was ragged. She was close.

He couldn’t wait to see her orgasm. He knew it would drive him insane. He’d have to have her after that, have to bury his dick into the warmth of her body.

She thrust her h*ps upward and he plunged his fingers in again, this time crooking them to hit against the sensitive sides of her walls. He paired this latest assault with a nip of her clit.

With a violent cry, her thighs went rigid. Hot fluid spilled onto Seth’s hand as Heather rocked her h*ps against his mouth.

“That’s it, princess,” he said, consuming the sight of her coming apart. It was beautiful. So goddamn beautiful it made his balls ache.

He continued to lick at her tender area until her body went lax and her breathing evened out. Gently, he lowered one leg off his shoulder, then kissed along the underside of her thigh to the back of her knee before setting it on the bed. Then he repeated his kisses on her other leg before kissing up her body toward her face where he planned to kiss her fiercely, share her taste with her, stir her up again so that next time he could come with her.

And next time wouldn’t be so gentle, but it would be oh so nice.

Except at her lips he discovered her deep breathing wasn’t a sign of her post-orgasmic state of relaxation.

It was a sign she’d passed out cold.

He tapped softly at her cheek with the back of his finger. “Heather?” But she didn’t respond. She was sincerely out. Already a gentle snore accompanied her inhales.


He’d known she was drunk, but had let her convince him that she was up for sex. He was an idiot. A f**king horny as hell idiot. Add intoxicated to that list. There was no way he would have gone so far if he’d been sober.