Free Making Trouble by Emme Rollins

Now!”
    Somehow he knew. His mouth was fastened to my sex and I arched as I came, my thighs pressing piano keys, making harsh music as he brought me to a quick climax. My body shuddered in his arms—they were wrapped around my hips—and I spread my legs even wider, my high heels digging into the wood of the piano bench.
    “Oh my God!” I panted, barely recovered as Rob knelt up and kissed me, mouth slanting across mine, the taste of my juices thick on his probing tongue. I felt his erection, hard and insistent, straining against his chinos as he rocked between my thighs.
    I didn’t have time to even think before he was unbuttoning and unzipping his pants, his mouth still on mine as he slid quickly inside of me. I gasped in the midst of our kiss, clinging to him as he thrust, rocking us both on the piano. I couldn’t do anything but hang on, my sex still throbbing, swollen and fat around his length.
    Rob raked his teeth along my bottom lip, growling low as he grabbed my hips for even more leverage, his pelvis taking over completely, thrusting hard and fast and furious. I heard the music playing in the other room, the sound of people laughing, but it was distant, and I hoped it stayed that way.
    But the truth was I didn’t care. The Queen of England could have walked in at that moment and I wouldn’t have cared. Rob had that effect on me. Whatever it was he wanted—and luckily that was often me—he went after. There was no arguing with him, and I didn’t want to, even if some part of me worried about Katie or Tyler or one of their guests walking in and discovering us.
    “Stand up,” he insisted.
    I just blinked at him, clearly not moving fast enough. His hands were rough as he maneuvered me, swinging my ass around and bending me over the piano. He pushed my dress up over my hips so he could watch himself slide into me from behind. I glanced over my shoulder at the dark look of lust on his face as he slowly filled me again, every sweet inch of him. I bit my lip, trying to keep from crying out as he grabbed my hips and drove in hard, burying himself deep, but it was no use.
    “Oh Rob! Oh God, yes!” I cried, giving up on the idea of trying to be quiet. I grabbed onto the edge of the piano, trying to steady myself as he fucked me up against it, the bench tipping onto its edge on the plush, white carpet behind us. Thank God it wasn’t hardwood!
    “I want you to come again for me,” he panted into my ear, hands roaming over my dress, freeing my breasts from the low-cut front and my bra simultaneously. They spilled into his hands, his palms grazing my hard nipples, his fingers, calloused from years of guitar playing, playing me as skillfully as any instrument.
    “Yes,” I whispered, grinding back against him, deep into the saddle of his hips, my panties still pulled to the side and soaking wet. “Oh yes, yes, fuck me, baby, fuck me until I come for you again!”
    Rob groaned, rolling his hips and sinking deep again and again, reaching around with one long arm to slide his hand between my legs, palm grinding against my mound. I whimpered and rocked faster, matching his rhythm, lost in the music we were making, the sound of our bodies slapping together, the chime of the piano as we banged against the keys again and again, our breath coming in harsh pants, Rob’s moans and my cries ringing out in sweet harmony.
    “Ohhhh fuck! Sabrina!” He rubbed his palm against my crotch, my sex on fire with the friction, building up to a delicious climax. “Ahhh baby, you feel so good. I can’t…”
    “I’m going to come!” I panted, my breath fogging the highly polished black surface of the piano in rhythm clouds. “Oh Rob! Now! Now!”
    He growled and grabbed me, both hands between my legs, lifting my spasming body fully onto the piano, sliding me across the black expanse of the instrument. My silk dress slid easily across the surface as Rob climbed up onto it with me, rolling me to my back in one swift motion. We