The first time I saw Adele, it was at a dimly lit jizz bar in New Orleans during Mardi Gras. The air was thick with the scent of bourbon and sweat, the hum of conversation punctuated by the occasional burst of laughter. She was perched on a velvet stool, her curves spilling over the edges of her emerald-green dress, her dark curls cascading down her shoulders like a waterfall of ink. A glass of whiskey dangled from her fingers, the ice cubes clinking softly as she brought it to her lips. I watched as she licked a drop of liquid courage from the rim, her tongue tracing a slow, deliberate path before she took a sip. The way her full lips wrapped around the glass, the way her throat worked as she swallowed—I felt a heat coil low in my belly.
I had to introduce myself.
I sidled up to the bar, ordering a bourbon neat, then turning to face her. “You’re Adele,” I said, my voice barely rising above the din of the crowd. She turned her head slowly, her dark eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made my pulse quicken. A slow smile curled her lips, full and knowing.
“Yeah,” she purred, her voice a smoky whisper. “And you are?”
“Just a fan,” I admitted, rubbing the back of my neck. “But I’ve never seen anyone command a room the way you do.”
She laughed, a rich, velvety sound that sent a shiver down my spine. “Flattery won’t get you into my bed, sweetheart. But it’ll get you a drink.” She gestured to the bartender. “Another bourbon for my new friend here.”
The drinks arrived, and we clinked glasses. I took a sip, watching her over the rim as she studied me with a gaze that was equal parts curious and calculating. “So, what’s your name?” she asked.
“Jamie,” I said.
“A Jamie,” she mused, swirling her whiskey. “Strong name for someone who blushes like a schoolgirl.”
I swallowed hard, heat flooding my cheeks. “I don’t blush.”
She leaned in, her perfume wrapping around me like a vice—something tropical and musky, with a hint of vanilla. “Oh, you do,” she murmured, her breath hot against my ear. “And I love that.”
Her hand found my thigh beneath the bar, her fingers tracing slow, teasing circles. My breath hitched. “Adele—”
“Shh,” she whispered, her lips brushing the shell of my ear. “Let’s not pretend this is anything but what it is.”
I should have stopped her. I should have pulled away. But the way her thumb pressed just a little harder against my leg, the way her other hand slid up to cup my jaw—it was too intoxicating. “What is it, then?” I asked, my voice barely audible.
She pulled back just enough to meet my gaze, her eyes dark with promise. “A game,” she said. “And you’re about to lose.”
We stumbled into her hotel room half an hour later, our limbs tangled together, lips crashing in a desperate, hungry kiss.
The door barely had time to click shut before she had me pressed against it, her body flush against mine. Her hands were everywhere—tugging at my shirt, sliding beneath the waistband of my jeans, gripping my ass to pull me tighter against her.
“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” she growled against my mouth, her teeth nipping at my lower lip. “I could eat you alive.”
I moaned as her hands finally freed my cock, her fingers wrapping around it with a firm, possessive grip.
“Adele—”
“Say my name again,” she demanded, stroking me slow and deep. “I want to hear you scream it.”
I gasped as she dropped to her knees in front of me, her hot mouth replacing her hand.
Her tongue swirled around the head of my cock before she took me deep, her throat working around me as she hollowed her cheeks. The wet, sloppy sounds of her sucking me filled the room, the obscene noises making my hips jerk forward involuntarily.
“Fuck, just like that,” I panted, my fingers tangling in her curls. “God, your mouth—”
She pulled off with a wet pop, her lips glistening. “Not God,” she corrected, grinning up at me. “Just me.”
Before I could respond, she stood, shoving me toward the bed. I fell back onto the mattress, and she climbed on top of me, straddling my waist. Her dress rode up, the hem teasing the tops of her thighs as she ground her pussy against my cock.
“Condom,” I managed to say, my voice rough with need.
She reached into her clutch and pulled out a foil packet, tearing it open with her teeth before rolling it down my length. Then she positioned herself over me, her wet heat hovering just above my cock.
“Ready to lose?” she teased, her fingers teasing her own clit as she lined me up with her entrance.
I groaned, my hands gripping her hips. “Yes—fuck, yes.”
With a slow, deliberate roll of her hips, she sank down onto me, her tight, dripping pussy swallowing my cock inch by inch.
The feeling was indescribable—so tight, so wet, so perfect.
“Oh, fuck,” she moaned, her head falling back as she bottomed out. “You feel amazing inside me.”
I could only whimper in agreement, my fingers digging into her thighs as she began to ride me. She set a punishing pace, her hips rolling in tight, grinding circles that made my vision blur. The bed creaked beneath us, the headboard thumping against the wall with every thrust.
“Look at me,” she demanded, her voice a dark command. “I want you to watch me take your cock.”
I forced my eyes open, my breath coming in ragged gasps as I watched her tits bounce with every movement, her lips parted on a moan. Her pussy clenched around me, milking my cock with every downward stroke.
“Fuck, Adele—fuck—” I groaned, my hips thrusting up to meet her.
“Harder,” she demanded, her nails raking down my chest. “Fuck me harder.”
I flipped her onto her back in one motion, pinning her wrists above her head as I drove into her with deep, punishing strokes. The sound of our bodies slapping together filled the room, the obscene wetness of her arousal dripping down my balls.
“Yes—yes—right there—” she chanted, her legs wrapping around my waist to pull me deeper. “Don’t you dare stop.”
I couldn’t have stopped if I tried.
Later, when we were both limp and sated, tangled in the sheets, Adele traced lazy patterns on my chest with her fingertips. “You’re not so bad for a fan,” she murmured.
I laughed, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. “And you’re not so bad for a celebrity.”
She propped herself up on one elbow, her dark eyes studying me with a smirk. “Oh, I think we both know I’m better.”
I grinned, pulling her back down into a kiss.
“Yeah,” I agreed against her lips. “You are.”
Her hand slid down my body, wrapping around my cock again—already half-hard. “Round two?” she purred.
I groaned as she rolled on top of me, her pussy already dripping and ready.
“God, yes.”
And just like that, we were lost all over again.
