The Rocker That Needs Me (The Rocker...) by Terri Anne Browning Page A

two clasps that fastened my bra. When the tight undergarment was undone, I let out a relieved sigh.
    “Are you hurting, Angel?” he asked, and I nodded. “Come here. I’ll make you feel better.” He gripped the end of my shirt and stripped it off me in one smooth motion. My bra was hanging loosely, the straps halfway down my arms, the rosy pink color a nice compliment to the peaches and cream tone of my skin.
    Drake’s fingers were trembling ever so slightly as he pulled the satin material away, exposing my tits to him for the first time. I was proud of them. The full C-cups were perfectly rounded and didn’t sag the way some bigger breasted women’s tended to do. He raised his big hands and cupped both tits, my head swimming with desire.
    His thumbs stroked over the hardened nipples. “Fuck, Angel. You are absolutely perfect.”
    “I’m glad you think so.” I leaned into his touch, wanting more. “I’m aching, Drake. Please help me.”
    His eyes darkened making gold specks appear inside the irises. “Lie back,” he commanded, and I fell back against his pillow. My breasts bounced as I landed, and he couldn’t seem to draw in a breath as he watched them for a moment. I grasped his hands and pulled him toward me.
    Instead of kissing me again, like I hoped he would, his head drifted lower. I wasn’t prepared for his hot mouth engulfing my nipple. I cried his name and raked my fingers through his hair, holding him to me as he sucked roughly. Each suck caused muscles deep within my abdomen to contract, and my panties grew wetter by the minute. I could smell that wetness with each shallow breath I inhaled.
    Drake’s head rose and I started to protest, but he only switched from one breast to the other. My eyes rolled back in my head as he tugged the nipple with his teeth, biting down enough to make me breathe his name in either protest or encouragement; I wasn’t sure which. He kissed the sting away and licked around the wide areola. 
    Unable to keep my hands still, I reached for his shirt and practically tore it off him in my haste to get his chest bare. It was free of tattoos, unlike his back, but his abs were defined, and I ran my fingers over the hard angles as he continued to shower kisses over both of my aching breasts.
    His whole body trembled at my caressing touch. It was a powerful feeling, making a man tremble. I skimmed my fingers lower, circled his navel with my fingernail, and then kept going. I gripped the edge of his jeans and felt the top of his cock.
    He jerked as if I had electrocuted him. His eyes found mine, and I knew that for him it was over. He was too far gone for this to go any slower than it already was, but I was more than ready to kick things into a higher gear. I was soaking wet and needed something I couldn’t even describe. This was passion and no one but Drake could make me feel it.
    My jeans and panties disappeared, as did Drake’s jeans. He wasn’t wearing anything underneath, and as soon as he unsnapped the top button, his cock sprung free. I watched as it swayed back and forth with each jerky movement he made to get his jeans off. When he was free of them, he dropped down beside me and pulled me across his chest.
    I kissed him, took control of his mouth, and refused to relinquish my hold on it until I was half drunk on his intoxicating taste. I licked my way down his chest, fascinated by the way his flat nipples tightened as I raked my nails across them. His stomach muscles quivered as I licked each indention of his abs.
    My hair was in my way. I pushed it out of my face and held it in place so I could raise my eyes and watch him as I kissed from his navel down to his groin. When I came to his cock, I took my time examining it. It stood proudly from the nest of dark curls. The tip was a dusky pink color and glistened with his pre-cum. Entranced by the sight of it, I rubbed my thumb over the wet head.
    Drake made a growling sound in the back of his throat. “Angel…”
    My