Groupie
C.M. Stunich
(Rock-Hard Beautiful, #1)
Publication date: March 21st 2017
Genres: New Adult, Romance
“Can one of these five rockstars fill the hole in my heart? Or will I stay broken forever?”
Young, dumb, and broke.
That’s what started everything. With five dollars in her pocket, and everything she owns stuffed in the back of her car, Lilith Goode’s life is over. Done. Destroyed.
Ten words. One text. That’s what it took to change the whole world.
A crumpled concert ticket. A chance encounter. That’s what it takes to start all over again.
Five rockstars. One girl. Six dark hearts, six withered souls.
But can one broken person really put another back together again?
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(Sex Scene From Copeland’s POV)
I close my eyes, my skin achy and hot, my balls tight, my entire body this ball of energy that craves more of whatever this is, this twisted ball of four fucked-up souls. We might just be bodies in motion, but there’s something more here. I can feel it.
The sex was good—it was great, actually—but it wasn’t their be-all, end-all. No, it was their outlet. Whatever they did, however kinky, dark, twisted, or different, it was all just an expression of their love, a way to get as close as possible, to keep the blackness inside their souls at bay for another night, another day. No, the touching, joining, rubbing of their bodies wasn’t the answer to all their problems, but it was the symptom of their solution.
I blink past the swirl of literary porn inside my head and drive myself into Lilith harder, deeper, rocking the couch and everyone on it with each thrust. A single movement of my hips drives my cock into Lilith, slides her pussy along Ran’s shaft, pushes Muse deeper into her throat. I control the entire thing, moving us in this strange, wild rhythm that shouldn’t work but totally does.
It’s Lilith that comes first, before all of us, screaming and arching her back, her lips temporarily falling off Muse’s shaft as she digs her nails into Ran’s shoulders and shudders around me and him both, squeezing us with her body. It’s intense and long, but I keep moving through it, even as she tries to collapse, holding her up by tightening my fingers on her hips.
As soon as she recovers a little, Lilith sits back up and wraps a hand around Muse, pulling him back to her mouth, squeezing the base of his dick as she swirls her tongue along the underside, teases the sensitive spot just beneath the head.
I enjoy watching that, moving faster and harder, feeling my pulse race inside my head, my skin tightening as an orgasm builds up quick and desperate inside of me. Muse comes next, both hands on the back of Lilith’s head as he makes these wild sounds low in his throat, making Ran buck and thrash beneath us. I realize he’s coming, too, and hold a steady pace, sweat dripping off my chin onto Lilith’s perfect round ass. Once I drop my gaze down to the joining of our bodies, I can’t look away, watching her take both Ran and me, soothe away some of that darkness in our souls with the beauty of her own pain.
“Fuck, sweetheart,” Ran gasps, shaking and quivering again as Muse stumbles away and collapses into one of the swivel chairs. But Lilith and me … we’re not done.
Carefully and quickly, I pull out and toss my condom into the trash, putting a new one on and pulling the sweaty crying girl into my lap. Because she is crying again, and that’s okay. She can cry as much as she wants.
I swipe a tear away with my thumb as I pull her onto my shaft, filling the space where Ransom just was and curling my arms around her waist as she rides me. Those hunter green eyes finally meet mine, searching and tearing through me, asking me what secrets I have to uncover, making me actually want to spill them all.
It’s her next orgasm that finally gets me, her body grasping tight, her face pressed into my neck, hot lips against my pulse. Her bare breasts smashed up to my chest, I groan and we both end up screaming a little, making so much damn noise that Michael comes storming out of the hall to stare at us.
The look in his eyes … it’s pure hunger.
C.M. Stunich is a self-admitted bibliophile with a love for exotic teas and a whole host of characters who live full time inside the strange, swirling vortex of her thoughts. Some folks might call this crazy, but Caitlin Morgan doesn’t mind – especially considering she has to write biographies in the third person. Oh, and half the host of characters in her head are searing hot bad boys with dirty mouths and skillful hands (among other things). If being crazy means hanging out with them everyday, C.M. has decided to have herself committed.
She hates tapioca pudding, loves to binge on cheesy horror movies, and is a slave to many cats. When she’s not vacuuming fur off of her couch, C.M. can be found with her nose buried in a book or her eyes glued to a computer screen. She’s the author of over thirty novels – romance, new adult, fantasy, and young adult included. Please, come and join her inside her crazy. There’s a heck of a lot to do there.
Oh, and Caitlin loves to chat (incessantly), so feel free to e-mail her, send her a Facebook message, or put up smoke signals. She’s already looking forward to it.
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