I feel it all, goosebumps erupting over my skin over and over as I’m continually seduced, brought up to immeasurable highs only to be swept into sorrow. I lose time, fully absorbed, emotions warring as the music continues to play with only a few short seconds of reprieve between songs—which isn’t nearly enough time to recover.
The journalist inside desperately wants her poker face back, but even as I try, I fail to formulate a single cohesive sentence for what I’m experiencing. Ultimately, I bat her away because the journalist that resides inside me is not who he’s playing his music for.
So, I sit, failing to hide the totality of the feelings he’s evoking as my throat constricts and his voice pulls at the last of my restraint, my eyes burning with tears as they escape and trickle down my cheeks. I don’t stop them, nor do I wipe them away. He deserves every one of them.
Easton Crowne makes beautiful music, his sound unlike any I’ve ever heard. Faint echoes of musicians—past and present—thread through his soul-searing lyrics and complicated melodies, but in a distinctive way I know will be trademarked as his own.
The truth becomes evident as I continue to listen and realize he’s probably not at all ashamed his father helped him produce it. He’s proud of it. I conclude he doesn’t want it publicly known he got the help because the sound he created is uniquely his own.
I know if I open my eyes, it may well ruin me, so I rest my head back against the leather seat—my senses heightened exponentially as he continues to wage war on my every emotion. His brilliant, beautiful lyrics and carefully laid out melodies drown me for endless minutes as I’m swarmed in the sensation of his mindboggling creation. I embrace every second of the feeling.
Just as I reach immeasurable heights by the beauty of new lyrics, Easton removes the headphones and unplugs them, the gorgeous ballad surrounding us both as I open my eyes. The ready praises on my tongue are silenced when Easton’s lips capture mine.
Wicked Game
Johnnyswim
Natalie
I gasp into Easton’s mouth as he thrusts an eager tongue between my lips with a hunger I could only dream of.
Instantly I cling to him, my kiss just as greedy, my thrust just as desperate as our tongues intermingle at a frenzied pace. It’s as if he has waited the entirety of the time I was listening to unleash on me. I feel every bit of that truth and see it on his face when Easton pulls away just long enough to gauge my reaction. In his search, he seeks and finds permission before his lips again capture mine in another soul-searing kiss. This one deeper than the last, as his hands cup my face and he surrounds me.
In the next breath, I’m wrapped around him, licking along his neck, inhaling his scent until our mouths again collide. My entire being lights on fire as our lips and tongues desperately move against the other as wetness floods my core.
His kiss gives me new life as I’m tossed further into orbit, feeling the vibration of his groans which coax me as I open myself for him.
“Easton,” I rasp out between kisses as his eyes burn through me with a searing heat. Seeing his reaction to us, I free myself completely, letting the need I’ve been suppressing take over entirely. Just this once, I’ll allow myself to have him. Just this once, I’ll give him all of me, without restraint or thoughts of another living soul.
In this universe, only we exist.
The music continues to pierce the deepest parts of me as I grip his face and still him. It’s then I realize we are in the middle of the room, and I’m wound around him. For several seconds we simply stare at each other. One beat passes, and then another before our mouths collide again. Body vibrating with a need for more—to get closer—he walks us over to the couch and lays me down gently, nestling between my legs. The thrust of his tongue into my mouth matches the drive of his hips as I gasp at the feel of his hard length against my core. Crazed with lust, I grip his thick hair in my fingers as he trails his kiss down my neck, laving every inch of bare skin with his lips and tongue.
He trails his carnal kisses between my mouth and neck before sinking his teeth into my shoulder and thrusting against me with more pressure. I cry out, gripping his shoulders as he does it again and again, bringing me close to the brink.
“Easton—” I plea, body coiling as sensation threatens to overtake me. He stops, reading my ask. I don’t want to go anywhere without him.
“Fuck,” he breathes as he stares down at me with a hooded gaze. The sight of Easton Crowne aroused is by far the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen in my life.