Mattress Music

By Lily Harlem

Is it possible to lose one’s ability to orgasm? Nina has. Lately, her fun weekend hook-ups have been more ho-hum than hot damn! It doesn’t help that she has three flatmates and is forced to play loud music to mask the sounds of her lovemaking. Talk about distracting. Of course, there’s another reason Nina’s less than satisfied these days...she’s just having a hard time admitting it.

It’s a good thing she’s met Ian, then. Not content to be a weekend hook-up, Ian is set on giving Nina what she’s been missing while making her admit what she needs. His talented fingers—and other body parts—are up to the task. But Ian’s not admitting a few things himself. Turns out his fingers can do more than make Nina’s body sing.

When she discovers his secret, it’s time for both of them to face the music.

This is a previously published work. It has been revised and edited for Evernight Publishing.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Evernight Publishing
• Release date: Aug 19, 2016
• ISBN: 9781772339697

Lily Harlem

Lily Harlem is an award winning, multi-published author of erotic romance and erotica. She lives in the UK and since giving up a career in nursing has been widely published on both sides of the Atlantic. Her stories are made up of colourful characters travelling on everyone's favourite journey, falling in love, and with the bedroom door left well and truly open readers are warned to hang on for the ride, or rides as the case might be.

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Published by EVERNIGHT PUBLISHING ® at Smashwords

www.evernightpublishing.com

Copyright© 2016 Lily Harlem

ISBN: 978-1-77233-969-7

Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

Editor: JS Cook

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

MATTRESS MUSIC

Rock Starz, 1

Lily Harlem

Copyright © 2016

Chapter One

Elton was killing me. I needed to do something—fast. I glanced at my iPod in the far corner of the room. The small blue circle stared at me uncaring, as if it knew I’d lost the remote in the move and could do nothing, in my current compromised position, to shuffle the droning song.

And boy, did I need to fast-forward Candle in the Wind. It had conjured a head full of images of Marilyn and Diana, big hair, sweet smiles, churches, orphans—

I pulled in a deep breath and focused my attentions. What did it matter what song played? Its purpose was to mask noise as I concentrated on Ian, the hot guy I’d picked up at the Solo Bar. He was where my thoughts should be trained, not icons and princesses and worrying about my new flatmates hearing our sex noises.

Because bless him, Ian was doing his best down there, licking and sucking, swirling and fondling. Hell, he even had two fingers searching out my G-spot. But what could I do? My head wasn’t in it—

Neither was my body…

What’s up? Ian asked, throwing off the duvet as he came up for air.

Nothing, I’m fine. I curled my hands over his wide shoulders and pulled him down for a kiss. He tasted of me, hot and spicy, slippery-tongued. He settled his sheathed erection between my legs and prodded my entrance. All I could think of was Marilyn being found in the nude, Diana forever in England’s greenest hills.

God, you feel good, he said in a tight voice. So damn good, I won’t last long. He had a rugged, should’ve-shaved look and now, hovering over me with his face flushed, pupils wide and a sheen of sweat on his brow, he really was drop-dead gorgeous.

I wrapped my legs around his hard thighs and encouraged him in. Despite his appeal, it was just as well he wouldn’t last long. Because there was no way I was going to climax, not with Elton warbling on miserably about dead people. Might as well get it over with, then I could turn off the abysmal mattress music and get some sleep.

He pounded to the hilt on his first plunge. I caught his uncontrolled moan in my mouth to stop the guttural sound vibrating through the walls into my flatmates’ ears. I had three—two guys and a girl. They were nice, friendly, but I hadn’t been living at 62B Chiltern Apartments long and I was on my best behavior. Last in, first out