His Big Mountain Axe

  "It’s dangerous for you to be here," I say tightly.

  "Good thing you're here to protect me."

  She's not backing down from this.

  "That looks painful."

  I grin, glancing down at my pulsing, rock-hard erection. "It’s fine."

  "I could—"

  "Angel—"

  "Let me," she whispers heatedly, and as she steps into me, her hands drops between us and circle around my shaft. Her fingers don't even remotely touch around it, and there's something so feathery-light to that touch that I almost lose my mind.

  "Let me do to you what you just did to me," she says quietly. "Let me make you feel good."

  Her small hand slides up and down my shaft tentatively, and the rest of my willpower crumbles.

  Somehow, I don't think I could ever say no to this girl.

  We come crashing together, my lips claiming hers as her hands stroke me. Her touch is so fucking soft — these little feathery touches that have me seeing stars as I groan into her mouth.

  "Tell me if it's bad, okay?" she whispers.

  "Rose—"

  "I can't suck when they film, remember? So, if something should be better…"

  "You can move your hand a little more."

  She swallows. "Like this?"

  Holy. Shit.

  Her second hand joins the first, both of them stroking me right against her bare belly.

  "Just like that, angel," I groan, my muscles tensing as my balls twitch with the need to spill my cum for her. I kiss her fiercely, groaning into her mouth, my hands roaming her body as her tiny hands stroke me.

  "You should stop," I growl, squeezing my eyes shut and gritting my teeth as the sensation of her hands sliding up and down on me start to overtake me.

  "Why?"

  "Because you've got me so close, beautiful."

  Her lips trail over my neck.

  "So why would I stop?"

  "Fuck, angel—"

  "I want to see it," she says in lust-filled, husky voice. Her fingers tighten around me, and she starts to stroke faster and faster. Pre-cum leaks from my tip, making my thick cock shiny and slick, and smearing some across her stomach.

  "I want to see it when you come," she whispers.

  And fuck if those words coming from her sweet lips don't send me roaring over the edge.

  I crush my lips to hers as I come, kissing her fiercely as the cum explodes out of my cock. Thick ropes pump out across her stomach, my thick cum spurting over her like a fucking hose. She gasps, whimpering into my mouth. But she keeps stroking me until there's nothing left, and I have to take her hands away myself.

  I step back and glance down at her. And when I do, I groan, and my cock pulses, letting some more cum drip from the throbbing tip.

  My white, shiny cum covers her bare stomach, soaks her panties, and even dribbles down her thighs a little. The whole sight is so fucking obscene, but also so fucking hot that it makes my blood run like lava.

  I made a fucking mess of her. I marked her.

  She's mine.

  "Was I okay?"

  There's a million words to say, but the only response I can give is to pull her right into me and kiss her with everything I have. My tongue swirls with hers, my hands pull her tight, and I hold her so close, like I never want to let her go.

  My temptation. My weakness.

  My angel.

  But of course, I do have to let her go, because she does have to get back to her room before Nico figures out I'm fitting in some practice time off-camera.

  She gets her clothes back on, and I help her back up the fire escape to her own window. There, I lose another hour, or who knows how long, kissing her until our lips are sore before I finally say goodnight.

  This, I never saw coming. Someone like her, I never imagined.

  But the situation's all wrong, and the way I have found her is broken and shattered.

  I'm the reason she's here, and in a couple of days, I'm going to be claiming every part of her and stealing her innocence away, all on fucking camera.

  In another life, she's the girl of my dreams, and my ticket to the life I never thought I could have. But here, in this world and this life?

  ...In here, I'm the worst thing that's ever happened to her.

  10

  Rose

  I know I should sleep, but when I'm finally alone in my room, I can't. My whole body tingles with the feel of his touch, my mind whirls at what just happened, and my heart beats a million miles an hour.

  And it's all because of him.

  I lay back across my bed, my breath coming quickly and my pulse thundering in my ears. I can still feel him — his cum — sticky on my skin. It makes me feel so dirty, but also sexier, and more alive, and more wanted than I've ever felt before. I slip my clothes off, and when I trail my fingers over my skin, I moan quietly as they trace over where he marked me.

  The replay of it gets my body blazing with heat all over again. I slide my fingers into my panties and push them down, kicking them free and spreading my legs on the bed. I've touched myself before, of course, but nothing I've done has ever come close to how he touched me. I pant into the darkness of the room as my fingers slide down, teasing over my pussy and spreading my lips. I touch my clit, whimpering at the sensation. And when I start to roll it under the pad of a finger, I think of Dylan.

  I moan, tossing my head back, my fingers teasing my clit as I replay what just happened — his mouth on my skin, his hands on my body. And I think of his cock. It's not like I've got anything to compare it to, but I also don't need to. He's enormous, and I know it should scare me, especially since he'll be the one sliding between my legs for the first time and breaking through my virginity.

  But, I'm not scared. And actually, the more I think about his big, thick, pulsing hard cock pushing its way into my tight little pussy, the more it turns me on. Thinking of him stretching me so wide, and having to go so slow just so he'll fit inside makes my blood run hot. It's so fucking sexy to think about, in this primal way.

  I imagine him laying me back, and spreading my legs as he joins me on the bed. I picture that gorgeous, muscled body coiling as he stalks over me, his hand wrapped around his thick cock. He'd run the tip up and down my lips before he started to push inside. And I know he'd go slow, but he also wouldn't stop until he had every damn inch deep inside of me. In my fantasy, as I moan on the bed and roll my clit under my fingers, he wouldn't stop until that big, huge cock was buried to the hilt between my thighs.

  He wouldn't stop until I was his.

  My fingers move faster and faster, my breath coming staggered as I lose myself in the fantasy of losing it all to Dylan. And when I come, burying the cry in the crook of my arm and feeling my juices soak my fingers, he's the only thing I can think of.

  Dylan — my broken savior in this broken hell of a situation. There's an edge to him — a scary darkness that I can see lingering under the surface beneath that insanely charming grin and his bantering humor. But I can also see the pure goodness in him. It's part of what draws me to him like a moth to flame, really. If the attraction to him was purely physical, I don't think I could be doing what we're doing with this "practicing."

  But it's everything about him that draws me in. And it's everything about him that keeps my body tingling with need as I finally climb under the covers and sleep.

  * * *

  I'm alone most of the next day. I spend the majority of it reading until there's a soft knock at the door, and when it opens, I smile as Quinn steps in.

  "Hope I'm not interrupting anything?"

  I smile, shaking my head. "Only Wuthering Heights, and I'm pretty sure I've read it a million times.

  "Love that book." She grins as she closes the door to the suite behind her and steps in carrying a small gym bag.

  "I just wanted to bring you some stuff that I'm betting these jackasses never thought to ask if you needed. Some shampoo and conditioner, some makeup, and you're probably a little smaller th
an me, but I brought some extra clothes and stuff too."

  I bite my lip as I look up at her,.

  "Thank you," I say softly.

  "Of course, hon." Her brow furrows. "How are you holding up?"

  "Good? I think?" I shrug. "I don't really know what I'm supposed to feel with all of this."

  "I'm trying," she says quietly, reaching out and squeezing my hand. "I can't exactly do much, but there's got to be some perks to being married to the asshole I—"

  She clamps her mouth shut and quickly shakes her head.

  "Sorry, oversharing."

  "No apologies needed." I decide it's not my place to ask anything about Roman and the way I could tell she and him were probably a lot closer than most bodyguards and their charges.

  I smile as I open the bag of stuff and start to poke through it, but when I brush my hair back behind my shoulder, Quinn's look freezes.

  My hand shoots to my neck, and instantly, my face burns as I feel the tenderness of the skin there.

  …There where Dylan's lips tasted my skin until I was gasping for more.

  "Oh fuck, hon, tell me they didn't—"

  "Oh, no!" I smile and quickly shake my head. "No nothing like that. We were practic—"

  My mouth clamps shut, and my hands flies to cover it even sooner.

  "Practicing, huh?"

  Quinn's concerned look turns into a sly grin.

  "Having fun with our co-star are we?"

  I blush furiously, and she giggles.

  "Hey, no judgement. Make the best of your situation and all that. And like I said, Dylan is one of the good ones."

  She winks at me.

  "And apparently, he's quite good at, well, that."

  Green.

  For one second, all I see is a flash of pure, green jealousy, before I clear my head. But the thought sticks, and slowly, I tense up as I take Quinn in. Quinn who's beautiful, and so outgoing and confident and sexy. Quinn who already knew about Dylan's, well, size, and who's sitting here now telling me he's apparently known for being good in bed.

  My lips are still pressed tight together, and I must be wearing my emotions all over my face, because she quickly shakes her head.

  "Oh, God Rose. No." She laughs, rolling her eyes. "Jesus, I didn't mean me!"

  The tension evaporates from me as I silently chide myself for being such a weirdo.

  Quinn laughs again. "Please, I'm not in that crowd, trust me."

  The frown comes back to my face, but she waves it away from me.

  "Dylan is one of the good guys, Rose. He's really a good one, and if you and him—"

  "We're just co-stars," I say quickly, shrugging like it's nothing. "We're just two people that are forced into this thing."

  Quinn nods quietly and squeezes my hand, but she doesn’t say anything. She helps put some of the stuff she brought me away before she collects her things to go.

  "I was going to try and sneak you a phone or something, but I couldn't." She makes a face but I shake my head.

  "What you brought is amazing, and I really don't know how to thank you."

  "Don't thank me yet," she says quietly. "But I'm trying."

  * * *

  I'm not in that crowd.

  The word "crowd" sits on my heart like a weight, even if I'm telling myself how silly it is to get hung up on it. So, Dylan has had other women. I mean, of course he has. He's gorgeous, he's older than me, he's got that rough edge that makes women get all goopy around him — I'm a testament to that. But a crowd? I wrinkle my nose, hating the jealousy that roars up inside of me, and also hating how much it affects me.

  I shouldn't feel like this. Not about him. Feelings like this are dangerous, because feelings like this mean I'm getting attached. And I can't get attached. In another world, where he's just this amazing, perfect, rough-around-the-edges guy who I meet? Well, that's another story of course. But this isn't that other world. This is the story where I'm being held prisoner, and in a few days that amazing, perfect, rough-around-the-edges man is going to take my virginity.

  On camera.

  And here I am jealous of women he's had before, like some sort of total idiot. The insecurities come rushing up, and suddenly, I wonder how much of what we've had is real, or if it's all been in my emotionally-charged head. He's led this life that didn't involve me, and he probably just sees me as this silly, inexperienced girl.

  The thoughts sour in my head, and I'm chewing my nails later, just staring at the wall and stewing in it, when there's a tap at my window.

  Dylan grins at me through the glass, and for a moment, all my stupid insecurities and poisonous thoughts disappear. But he pushes the window open and jumps into the room, and they all come rushing back. He's so freaking good looking. And so good, despite his roughness. I look away, chewing on my lip.

  "Look, you don't have to do this, okay?"

  He's quiet, and when I chance a glance back at him, he's looking right at me with a heated, focused look.

  "What's going on, angel?"

  "Nothing," I say quickly. "I just…look I know this is stupid for you, and I know you don't need to be spending your time humoring me and trying to 'teach’ me stuff, alright? I get it."

  He frowns, his jaw tightening as he steps towards me.

  "Where's this coming from, Rose?"

  "Forget it," I mumble, turning away. "We’ll just do this for the fucking camera and be done with it, okay? I mean, that's why we're here, right? This isn't a meet-and-greet, Dylan. We're shooting a porn, and then I'm sure we'll go our separate—"

  "You think that’s what this is for me?"

  His voice is like a knife, cutting through my words and slicing through the air between us. I freeze.

  "You think I'm just here for a fucking taste before I 'go my separate way'?"

  "Aren't you?" I whisper.

  "No, angel," he growls, his voice getting closer as he moves right behind me. "Hell no. You think you don't mean anything to me? Is that it?" He hisses. "Do you think you're somehow forgettable to me?"

  "C'mon, Dylan," I say quietly. "You're you, and I'm…me. I'm not like other girls."

  "Damn right you're not," he growls.

  I shake my head. "Dylan, how do I possibly compare to any of the women you've—"

  "You don't compare," he says flatly, his voice edged and full of heat. My stomach sinks, and my heart starts to break when his hands slide up my arms to pull me back into him.

  "You don't compare, because you're leagues above anything and anyone I've ever known." His hands tighten on me, and his lips brush my neck. "Angel, whatever came before you in my life is a pale imitation of what I've got right here, right now, with you."

  I swallow, my breath catching as I try and process what he's saying. "That's—"

  "True," he growls. "That's truth, angel. This is the first time anything's ever has made me forget about the shit I've seen. This is the first time anything's ever shown me a path I wish I'd taken earlier — a better path. Except no other path would have ever led me to you, so I'll pick this one every fucking time."

  I gasp as he turns me, his hands moving to cup my face as he slowly shakes his head at me. His deep blue eyes pierce right into me, into places no one's ever looked, and slowly, the walls of jealousy and self-doubt I've been building come crashing down.

  "Dylan—"

  "You’re not forgettable, Rose," he says quietly. "You're everything."

  When he kisses me, the world around us fades away. My feet leave the ground, time stops, and I feel every bit of the truth in his words. I throw myself into him, losing myself in those lips as he kisses me ferociously. My tongue seeks his, my mouth opening for him as we tangle together. I push as far into him as I can, wanting to bury myself in his muscled arms and his chest and never come out.

  We come away panting and attack each other. I yank his shirt up, my fingers running over his grooved, muscled abs and the tantalizing “v” of his hips. He half-tears the buttons from my blouse, pushing it off my
shoulders and going for my bra. His t-shirt follows as I fling it across the room before he drops my bra as well. We move together, moaning as skin touches skin. My nipples drag over his hard chest, and I whimper into his kiss as he tugs at the fairly modest skirt I'm wearing. He pulls it up high, until he's bunched it up to my waist. His hands slide over my ass, grabbing me tightly and possessively and making me shudder into him.

  "Let me show you things, baby girl," he groans, kissing me hungrily as his hands cup my ass and make me shiver. "Let me show you all kinds of things."

  The skirt drops to my feet, and he gently pushes me back onto the bed. I watch with panting breath as he drops his jeans and steps out of them, until he's standing there in just his tight black boxer-briefs. The front of them tents obscenely, his thick, huge cock pulsing inside of them. He moves to the bed, stalking over me and pushing me back into the pillows.

  "Lie back, beautiful," he purrs as his fingers hook into the waist of my plain white panties.

  "Lie back and let me show you how good you can feel."

  He pulls my panties down my legs, and for a second, I shyly move to cover myself, but he shakes his head and gently pushes my hand away.

  "No, angel," he purrs. "Don't you ever cover yourself around me. Don't you ever hide how fucking sexy you are from my eyes."

  He slips the panties off and tosses them away before he moves in and spreads my legs wide. I’m panting heavily, my blood hot under my skin as he skims his hands up my thighs and leans in closer.

  "Dylan—"

  I want to tell him I've never done this, or rather, that no one's ever done this to me. But then, he knows that. And really, I like that he's going to be the first to taste me. I want him to be.

  I want him to be the first for so many things.

  His breath teases over my pussy first, but when his tongue touches me, I lose myself. He pushes it deep between my lips, curling it into my opening and tasting me deeply. He drags it slowly up, and when he slicks the tip over my aching clit, it's like pure heaven.

  His tongue moves slowly at first and then picks up speed — his tongue swirling over my clit again and again as I gasp for air. My hips rise from the bed without me even controlling them, bucking against his face as he growls into me and starts to fuck me with his tongue. The room spins, and my breath comes faster and faster, and something big starts to swell inside of me until I'm sure I'm going to explode.