Leaning his tall body to the desk, Lucas shrugs, frustrated. “He’s been before. Every time we gear up for a tour or an alb.u.m. And it’s prescription now, so who the f**k knows.”
My chest clenches painfully, and I bring my hands up to my mouth. “G.o.d, Lucas. Ugh, I’m so very sorry,” I say. And this is why I hate drugs and the people who dole them out like Skittles. They tear families into a million pieces, and Sinjin is like a brother to Lucas. They’ve been making music together for ten years, since they were eighteen, and were friends long before that.
I don’t want this to be the end of their relationship.
“I’m the one who should be sorry, Sienna. For whatever he said to you. For putting you in such a f**ked up situation to begin with—Kylie warned me he was back on the pills but I didn’t want to listen.”
“He’s your best friend,” I point out. “And he needs a lot of help.”
Tentatively, as if he’s still unsure of whether or not he should still take my invitation to touch me to heart, he lifts my hands up, pressing them between his. Closing his eyes, he touches my fingers to his lips and kisses them softly. “He is. He’s my oldest friend, but I wanted to rip him to f**king shreds when I found out he was out there with you alone.”
“Really, he didn’t say anything that bothered me,” I lie. “And besides, I’m us—”
“If you say that you’re used to people treating you like that I swear to G.o.d I’ll bend you over this desk and keep my promise with the drumsticks.”
My breath catches, and he squeezes my hands a little harder, a little more desperately. “I called my brother earlier,” I whisper, dragging my hands away from his and sliding them down the front of his body.
“Stop,” he warns as he grabs my wrists. His lips are inches away from my lips. I stretch my neck up to touch them but he moves his head a fraction.
“I told him what you told me to say. I told him—”
Groaning, he very gently pushes me away from him and drags his hands up and down his face. “Unbelievable. I come in from, literally, one of the s.h.i.ttiest days of my life and you’re being obedient and—”
His c**k is hard. I can see its outline straining against his jeans and he’s not making a move to hide it. “Do you want me to go away, Sir?” I murmur.
“Come back over here, Sienna,” he growls. I obey, moving closer to him until I can practically feel static electricity thrumming from our bodies. “Get down on your knees.”
I know where this is going to go. I know that if I do this I’m only a few steps away from uttering those words he’s challenged me to say since even before day one began. Nevertheless, I’m at the point where I want to see this through. Where I have to have him, even if I have to come to terms with giving myself over in the process
Where I know that the chemistry between the two of us isn’t worth fighting.
Carefully, I slide down to the floor, one knee meeting the hard bamboo wood at a time. I don’t miss the way he shudders when I lock my eyes with his, waiting for the rest of his instructions.
He traces his fingertips around the outline of my face, gently stroking my temples, my cheeks, my lips. Tucking his fingers under my chin, he draws my face up until my head is tilted all the way back and my hair sways against my bottom.
“You are so f**king beautiful,” he murmurs, before bending over to claim my lips. He drags my tongue into his mouth, teasing it in a desperate game of cat and mouse—wolf and sheep— with his own tongue.
I lift my hands to touch his face but he barks out a rough command for me to keep them behind my back. I clasp them together, linking my fingers tightly. He moves his own hands to my br**sts, testing their weight before rolling and pinching my ni**les between his fingertips.
My breath comes out in sharp, pleading gasps as he alternates between sliding his tongue into my mouth and sucking on my top lip, between squeezing the tips of my ni**les and pushing my dress aside to probe the wetness between my legs. He nudges my slit with his knuckles, never moving my panties.
Whimpering, I squeeze my eyes together. I feel like I’ll come at the slightest provocation, at the slightest glance from him, and I grind my teeth. To punish me, he takes his hands and mouth away from my body. I convulse anyway, and then open my eyes. His c**k springs forward and rubs against my cheek. Despite not having received directions from him, I flick my tongue out, taking his head into my mouth.
He tangles his hands into the hair at the nape of my neck, pulling my mouth away from his body. “You’re so amazing. So good,” he says, stroking my beck. “You’re going to learn, Sienna.”
I nod my head, ready.
Willing.
Craving.
He teaches me slowly. The way to take my mouth down his length until he moans and rakes his hands through my long hair. The way he likes it when I use my teeth, placing just the tiniest bit of pressure on him. How he goes frantic when I squeeze my lips together, swiveling my tongue around his c**k until he climaxes in my mouth.
Afterward, when I move to sit down on my bottom, he shakes his head and says roughly, “Stay exactly as you are.” He sinks down to his own knees, going around my body in careful, animalistic circles as he drags my panties down to my knees with his mouth. I’m shivering, dying for his touch. His hands are warm and gentle and rough as they guide my thighs apart. Then, he parts my wet slit with the hard tip of his tongue.
And as I remain there, with the flooring hard beneath my weak knees and my fingernails raking my hands behind my back—as I remain there with him making me shudder and threatening to spank me if I so much as move my hands or body—I know that I’m ready to learn everything about his world.