Heavy Metal Heart: A Bad Boy Rock Star Romance (7 page)

The bandmates took a few more minutes to build anticipation for the crowd and cool themselves down, though Torsten's blood continued to boil. He hadn't felt this predatory and animalistic in years. He couldn’t get Helena out of his head all night and wondered if that was fueling him. No kiss and grope had ever driven his cock that crazy. Ever since that night, he wanted nothing more to find out what her pussy tasted like, how tightly it would clench around his cock. 

"Let's fuck it up out there!" Torsten roared. 

His band mates roared in agreement and stalked out onto the stage. 

If he didn’t feel like a savage animal already, playing Battle Roar sent Torsten deep into his lizard brain. All rational thought exited his body through his fingers and dissipated into the air through the cries of his guitar. Pure physical need controlled him.

Ordinarily, he considered himself a man of self-control, a man of discipline. But not tonight. If Helena wasn’t around to fuck, he’d get in a fight. Maybe both. 

The crowd went wild as the final song rose into its crescendo, which was also his guitar solo. He watched his hands dance along the guitar's neck as if they were someone else's. He never needed to think about music, his body simply knew it. He could play this solo in his sleep if he had to. 

The screams of the audience washed over him, not like a crashing wave, but a gentle hum that carried him. Thousands of voices reverberated as one, single vibrating presence. 

And just like that, the song ended. 

His hands stopped and the stage went dark again. The single voice of the crowd became many individual voices again, cheering and crying at the raw, human artistry they just witnessed. 

Torsten set his guitar down and left the stage unceremoniously as he usually did. He went straight to the backstage lounge intending to find a cigarette to soften the razor-sharp edge of his mind. He burst through the door, not at all surprised to see a familiar gorgeous face with wide green eyes and wearing a skintight dress.

Helena jumped with a start when she heard the door crash open. She whipped around and there he stood. Torsten. 

If he looked intoxicating from hundreds of feet away on a stage, his presence absolutely overpowered her in the same room. His eyes burned with the intensity of a blue flame. The look on his face was absolutely savage. His breath came in heavy, ragged gasps from playing his final song not a minute earlier, making his sculpted, bare torso rise and fall with each breath. If she didn't know any better, he could have stepped out of a Norse saga as a legendary Viking warrior. His hair fell loose around his face and his skin was slick with sweat.

“Not surprised to see you here,” he greeted as he strode toward her. 

“So what the fuck, Torsten?” Helena demanded, trying to sound assertive, but god damn those abs and those shoulders made her voice wobble. 

“What the fuck, what?” he stopped inches away from her face. Heat radiated from him and she could smell the saltiness of his skin.

“The money in my mailbox. Why-,” 

Torsten cut her off by pressing his mouth onto hers. Catching her mid-word allowed him to sneak his tongue into her mouth and pull her tightly against him. 

Her heart slammed against her ribs like a drum as she realized what was happening, while her feet felt as if they floated on air. His tongue invaded her mouth and thrust against hers, demanding and yet so giving. Every sensation in her body from last night returned with a vengeance. Heat rushed to her core, which suddenly felt so achingly empty. It demanded to be filled.  

She found herself returning his kisses with the same hunger as him. Her own tongue crashed against his and she gasped when he took her lower lip in his teeth. As if controlled by someone else, her hands slid around his sides and up his lean, muscular back. 

Logic and reason didn’t exist here. Up was down and the sun rose in the west. All she knew was a world of heat and touch and intense, hungering lust. 

Torsten broke his kiss from her almost violently and she froze, afraid to speak or move and thereby breaking the spell.

Is he just using me, like last night?

“Helena, I fucking want you,” he growled, his hands pressed into her lower back. “You’re so fucking beautiful, but I know you’re sad.” His eyes burned into hers as he spoke inches away from her mouth. The movement of his lips hypnotized her. 

“Let’s forget everything else for tonight. Let me make you feel good.” He raised one hand to her face and traced his thumb across her lower lip, waiting for an answer. 

Helena blinked with the realization that both surprised her and kicked her hunger for him into overdrive.

He wasn’t going to use her, or take anything from her. He asked for consent. 

She nodded slowly, while a small voice in the back of her brain said, “What the fuck are you doing?!” But she was beyond the point of listening to that voice. She'd never such insatiable desire for anyone before. Her body, yearning for Torsten’s touch again, took over the controls, and her mind was powerless to resist. 

Torsten’s mouth pulled up into a brief smirk before lowering to hers again. As she closed her eyes to fully give in to his kiss, she felt her legs buckle beneath her. Torsten scooped her up in his arms instantly. His long, strong arms supported under her knees and across her back in a princess carry, never breaking the kiss for a second. Helena grew even hotter at the sweet gesture. 

Only when he laid her down gently on the couch, did he pull away and look at her. 

“Fucking hell, Helena. You’re gorgeous.” 

He looked ready to completely devour her, his eyes full of hunger and need. He could have been frightening, but she was not frightened at all. Strangely she felt safer here, in the arms  and under the spell of a man she barely knew, than she ever felt in the years with her ex-husband.

Torsten's hand traveled from around the back of her knee to the inside of her thigh. His fingertips dancing along her bare skin ignited her nerve endings like live wires. With a small growl, he broke eye contact with her and moved his mouth to her earlobe. He sucked and nibbled, teasing her mercilessly. The intensity sent her back arching against him, her clit throbbing like it connected directly to her ear. Helena's breath and heartbeat quickened as the reality set in of what they were doing. What they were about to do. 

“Torst-” she gasped as his hand disappeared under her little black dress and pressed against her soaking wet vulva. 

Torsten made a small sound that was half moan, half growl as he nipped her earlobe, then traveled his teeth down her neck. 

His fingers teased the entrance to her dripping slit, rubbing her engorged lips and staying just away from her clitoris. He wanted her so wet she'd make a puddle on the couch. He wanted her trembling, crying, begging to be fucked mercilessly so she could come all over his thick, rigid cock. It was all he could do to not throw her on the couch and fuck her brainless as soon as he saw her standing there in her tight black dress. 

This was it. This was who he was meant to conquer tonight. He knew in the back of his mind she would find him, and be waiting for him again. He knew that sending her money would get a reaction. She showed him in the hotel room that she was a proud, strong woman who wouldn't let that shit slide. And now here she was, gorgeous and powerless in his arms. 

She moaned and writhed her hips against his fingers, her body undulating like a beautiful wave. 

That's right, love. Give that sweet pussy what it wants.

Torsten kissed where her neck and shoulder connected, slowly moving to her collarbone as he pulled the strap of her dress down her shoulder. He never let up the pressure of his other hand between her legs, his fingers slick with her juices. 

Helena tried to clamp her legs shut. He felt the coiled up tension in her body, desperate for a release, but he was nowhere to close to giving it to her yet. He forced her legs open, positioning his knees between hers. His adamant cock felt ready to burst through his pants, but he had to make himself wait, too. To torture her with pleasure, he'd have to torture himself a little too. 

He pulled Helena's dress down further to expose her luscious, heaving breasts and tore his mouth away from her collarbone for a moment to admire them. 

“My God, Helena. You are divine,” he rasped at her. He kissed her deeply on the mouth again, freeing both hands to embrace her gorgeous tits with his fingers. Her nipples were already rock hard, he found, as he gently pinched and rolled his fingers over them. Each little pinch elicited a small squeal from her into his mouth. 

He lifted the hem of her dress above her hips and brought his mouth to the delicate crest of her right hipbone. He took the edge of her panties in his teeth and started to drag them down. 

“Torsten...,” she panted. 

He paused and looked up at her. “Shall I stop?” he asked before planting a small kiss just inside her thigh. His eyes dared her to defy him, dared her to refuse this pleasure she'd never felt before. 

Her ravishing torso heaved with her deep breaths. Her face was flushed red with a pained expression, her mouth hanging delicately open. Torsten felt his cock swelling and he smiled to himself. She was so desperate to come, she was putty in his hands. 

“No... Please don't stop,” she pleaded. 

“That's my girl,” he growled as he gripped her panties with his teeth again. The words came out of his mouth before his brain caught up, but it was true. In this moment at least, she belonged completely to him. 

His mouth dragged her panties to her knees, where he finished removing them with his hands, but his mouth remained attached to the smooth skin of her beautiful leg. He wanted to taste, touch, and explore every inch of her luscious curves before penetrating her hot, waiting pussy. Agonizingly slowly, he kissed his way down. First the side of her knee, then her shapely, taut calf muscle, then her ankle, and then finally he kissed her foot and her toes. 

Because he belonged to her too. He saw how pained she was in his hotel room. She needed pleasure more than anyone, his pleasure. From the moment he saw her, his sole existence was to please her. To ravish her body and make her feel like a whole woman again. If kissing her feet made her come, he'd spend the whole night doing just that. 

Yes, he’d tell her the truth about Lars. Fuck him and his manipulating, secretive ways. He had no loyalty to that bastard anymore. At some point after this, he’d sit down with Helena, fully clothed even, and get it all out in the open. She would know without a doubt what a scumbag her ex was. Maybe he would even share a little of past with her. For some reason, he cared about what she thought of him. And he didn’t want to be a scumbag in her eyes. 

Pleasure and orgasms first. Difficult conversations later.

As he gazed up at her soaking, inviting vulva, he knew exactly what he needed to do to bring her to ecstasy. Torsten couldn't take it anymore. He had a ravenous hunger for that decadent, quivering pussy and needed to feast.

Helena's entire body felt aflame and her skin almost painfully sensitive. Every touch from Torsten consumed her and made her more desperate for a release. She never felt this powerless to a man's touch before, and yet she felt like a goddess. 

He literally kissed my feet!

She couldn’t tear her eyes away from Torsten's massive bulge in his pants ready to be freed, but he never touched himself once. His hands and his mouth worshiped her, yet exploited every tender spot on her body until she trembled underneath him. 

He licked and kissed in such painfully slow circles around her vulva, lapping up at her wetness with an insatiable thirst. The more he teased and avoided her clit, the wetter and more desperate she became.

“Please,” she begged breathlessly, and he smiled wickedly up at her. 

Helena gasped as he finally parted her folds with two fingers and eased them inside her. 

“Oh fuck, you're so tight,” he told her, barely above a whisper. 

Her inner walls hugged his fingers as he pressed them upward and stroked firmly. 

“Oh, god!” Helena cried out and arched her back as his fingers filled her. She was on the edge of bliss but needed more, so much more. 

His mouth sealed a kiss over her clitoris as his tongue finally pressed against that hard, unforgiving button. His fingers continued to stroke the inside of her pussy while pressing against her top wall. 

Helena cried out louder, not caring who heard. Tears welled in her eyes as waves of pleasure coursed through her body, bucking her hips against Torsten's mouth and hand. The pressure built higher still, she was about to explode. 

And then he stopped. 

Helena opened her eyes, dazed and panting. Torsten had the cockiest of cocky grins on his face as he began unzipping his pants, far too slowly. 

“Come on, please!” she begged. 

“Please, what?” he asked in that cocksure tone. Fucking hell, he was infuriating. 

“Please make me come! I need to come.” She reached down to her clitoris. She rarely touched herself, but right then she was a bomb about to explode. 

Torsten grabbed her hand and pinned it to her side. Her pulse quickened beneath his grip. His icy eyes stared into hers with a playful arrogance. 

“What do you want me to do?” he asked, keeping her pinned with one hand and sliding his pants to his knees with the other. 

She gazed at his thick, veined cock with a hunger she never felt for a man before. She wanted nothing more than for that thing to ruthlessly destroy her. It pulsed and dripped with pre-come and she knew how badly Torsten wanted it too. He'd been holding himself back this whole time while teasing her into a frenzy. 

“Fuck me,” she commanded him. “I need you to fuck me and make me come with that big cock of yours.”
Holy shit, where did those words come from?

Torsten dropped to his forearms, draping his chiseled body over hers. Helena seared her torso to his and slid her hands across the taut muscles of his back. He lowered his mouth to hers as he kicked his pants off completely. She drew in a sharp breath and bit down on his lip as she felt the firm tip of his glans gently kiss her southern lips.