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“Because you were grieving your best friend. The label didn’t help you. They must have seen you struggling, but they didn’t help hold you together.” She bit her lip, her eyes imploring me to listen and look at the past through a different lens. “I don’t think the guys of SO and WPF would have allowed that. They would have been there to help hold you together, to pick you up. They wouldn’t have allowed you to spiral because they look at the music industry and their label as a family.”
Her words burrowed into my heart, making it pump harder while also filling me with warmth. She was right. I didn’t even get to spend all that much time with the guys in SO, but I knew it was true. They cared. Their focus was the music and the family they were creating with the label. They wouldn’t have left me out there in the cold, unforgiving world. They would have helped me.
I took my woman’s mouth in a brutal kiss, her words rattling around in my head about owing it to myself to keep going, to get back out on the stage. When we broke apart, we were gulping down lungfuls of air.
“This is my last chance,” I rasped, not saying anything she didn’t already know.
Cove’s smile lit up my world like a fucking supernova. “But I have your back, Langston. You won’t fail. WPF will love these songs and they’ll help figure out what a band looks like for you. You’ll go into the studio and record a full album with all the bells and whistles. Then they’ll release it with all the power of the label behind it. You’ll tour again.” Her eyebrows furrowed together, her hands gripping my shoulders where I felt her nails dig in. “You’ll have to be brave and be strong,” there was a plea in her eyes that I instantly understood.
“I will be,” I promised her, “because you’ll be right there at my side.”
She gasped, “What?”
I chuckled and shook my head, “I’m not writing songs, recording, or going out on tour without you. How could I? You’re my muse, Cove. The music is nothing without you.”
Then I slid inside of her, again, and the worries about what happens next, about my past, about what we couldn’t foresee but fear all the same, evaporated like mist on the water.
“I think,” Cove sighs next to me, her voice tinged with an emotion I can’t decipher and pulling me out of my memories of how much light this woman has gifted to me, “it’s done.”
I grip my woman’s chin and turn her face so she’s looking at me. There are unshed tears in her eyes, but that won’t do.
“You’re amazing, Cove. Don’t forget our promises. This is just the beginning.”
She nibbles on her lip, her nerves on full display. Her voice is a worried whisper, “Do you think they’ll like the songs?”
“They will,” my voice is hard and without even a hint of doubt.
“This is a chance for me too. It might be my only chance,” she mutters.
“Naw,” I shake my head before rubbing my nose against hers, “this is just the beginning. I’ll make sure of it. I won’t do this without you. I can’t.” She nods and closes her eyes, taking a deep breath and calming herself. “Thank you.”
Her eyes snap open, confusion staring back at me. “For what?”
“For coming into my life? For helping me find music again. For helping me take the pain, the loss, and turning it into beautiful songs that will touch so many more than just me. For giving me a chance.”
Cove smiles at me and it is pure fucking warmth and love.
Our mouths find each other, both seeking, both needing. Her hands grip my clothes, pulling and peeling. I’m right there with her.
With a press of a button, I start the playback again on the songs we’ve written and recorded together before I pick her up and sit down on the couch. Cove straddles my hips, trapping my cock between us. I can feel the heat and slickness of her pussy.
“Songstress,” I groan and grip her hips. When she reaches down and grips my cock, positioning it at the entrance of her tight, wet heat, I almost blow. My jaw clenches and demand, “Ride me.”
The feeling of her pussy sliding down my length is like nothing I’ve ever felt before. “Yes,” she moans, her back arching as she throws her head back, “Langston.”
I have to focus on helping her slide up and down my dick, it’s the only thing grounding me. There’s no fucking way that my woman is not going to find pleasure before me. No fucking way.
“So tight,” I growl, “so fucking wet for me.”
As she bounces on my cock, I’m mesmerized by the sounds she’s making and the sight of her tits bouncing in my face. I lean forward enough to suck on her hard peaks between my lips, nipping at it and making her gasp and grind down on my pelvis as I fill her to the hilt.
“That’s right,” I encourage her. “Never letting you go. You’re mine. Say it,” I demand.
“I’m yours,” she mewls.
I watch in awe as she rides me, a flush coloring her skin as pleasure and light pour from her. It’s a fucking sight, one everyone should be able to witness, but will never be able to.
Because she’s mine.
