Chapter 11 – Nina

Despite being incredibly excited about the prospect of moving in with Brandon, I'd had my reservations. I wanted so desperately to be the centre of his world, in the way that he was mine, but I was worried that he was envisioning living with the 'me' he knew all those years ago when we'd first met.

We'd moved my stuff over from Phoenix in Brandon's band's private jet. It was a majestic, white jet plane with The Killers' logo plastered proudly and boldly across each side. We'd loaded all my stuff from the apartment I'd shared with Millie in Arizona onto the plain in boxes which took up most of the space in the luxurious cabin, but we still found the time and space to have a moment to ourselves on one of the plane seats. I'd officially earned my membership to the mile-high club.

Brandon's place (our place) was incredible. It was very simplistic apartment in its layout – a standard living room and kitchen-diner with a bedroom off to one side and a study to the other, but the whole place reeked of Brandon. Music sheets were scattered over almost every surface, most of them scribbled over with pen. The couches were mismatched leather: some dark brown leather and other a lighter, more worn-looking shade. Coke cans were scattered across an old wooden coffee table and dotted in other locations across the apartment. The kitchen was spectacular – an old stove being the central focal point of the space. A small piano stood domesticated against the far wall of the living space, humbled by the memory I had of the grand piano at Caesar's. A bass guitar perched on a stand next to the piano, accompanied by a wooden acoustic guitar to its right. Photos of famous Las Vegas landscapes hung on the walls, qualifying as regular pictures to your average visitor, but I knew that Las Vegas had a place deep in Brandon's heart.

"I love it." I said when I first walked in, taking in my surroundings which were now my new home. Brandon gave me a guided tour of the rest of the apartment, which didn't take long. We ended up in the bedroom. Of course.

"Do you like it, then?"

"I love it, Brandon, it's perfect. I'd have settled for a hostel so long as it was with you."

He scooped me up in his arms and placed me gently on the bed. The duvet covers had obviously been slept in fairly recently because as he set me down, a waft of Brandon's unquestionable scent drifted up my nose. I inhaled it appreciatively and smiled. I was going to like it here. Brandon grabbed the lower seam of his black t-shirt and glided it over his head before throwing it to the floor, unveiling his delicious torso. His shoulders were strong, his sun-bronzed skin pulled taught over his muscles. He leaned towards me and rolled up my shirt so that it was bunched just beneath my armpits, revealing my bra. He trailed kisses from the waistband of my pants, past my navel, all the way up to the underwire of my bra. I felt his hands around mine, one on each side of my body, and he pulled me so that I was sat upright on the bed. He mimicked his own actions my removing my shirt over my head, before leading me towards him again so that I was stood in front of him. He spun me around in front of him so that my back was facing him, his glorifying erection pressing hard into the lower part of my back and the top of my rear. He undid my bra with one hand, simultaneously sliding the other around and across my belly, down to my jeans' button. The button unfastened easily under his tough, and I took the liberty of sliding my bottoms down seductively, bending over as I did, wiggling my ass so that I was rubbing against him through his pants. I left my panties on.

"You make those panties look incredible," He breathed, the interaction already affecting him. "But you're going to need to take them off before I ruin them by ripping them off of you.

A fear-induced shudder rippled through my body, my pelvic floor muscles convulsing in response. I obeyed his command, and slid the panties down so that they were around my ankles. I heard him undo and remove his jeans as I faced away from him, trying to maintain my composure and ignore the goose bumps which were slowly washing across my body like a restrained tidal wave. The next thing I felt was one of his hands on my shoulder, and the other palm-down across my lower abdomen. He pushed gently against my shoulder, and pulled towards him with his other hand. I followed his unspoken request and bent over slowly in front of him, placing my palms on the bed to hold me steady. The hand that had been on my shoulder slid carnally down my back and came to a stop on my waist, the other coming back over my butt cheek to play with my pussy. He rubbed the hole tantalisingly with one finger, preparing me. He slipped one finger in, then another, and then another and began to fuck me with his fingers. Hard. My neck relaxed completely, causing my head to flop forward like a ragdoll's, my hair falling around my face. We both moaned as he pleasured me with his fingers until he eventually withdrew and tactically replaced his fingers with just the head of his dick. I longed to ram back onto him, but he seemed to be enjoying torturing me, so I let him do what he wanted. He slowly deepened his penetration, my pussy willingly inviting more and more of him in. He pushed in carefully until his balls were pressed up against me, then he began to thrust painstakingly into me, the heavenly feeling sending waves of carnal need through my body. He picked up his pace gradually, his rhythmical thrusts hitting exactly the spot I wanted them to.

"God, Brandon."

The almost-snarl he emitted was his way of telling me that he was turned on, so I started to move my pelvis along to his rhythm, his grip tightening on my waist as I did. His thrusts got more and more purposeful with every stroke, his balls starting to slap up against me as the mouth of my pussy met the base of his shaft. His insatiable need to satisfy our bodies excited me endlessly for the future I shared with him. I neared climax as he thrummed into me, his genius touch making me feel like a musical instrument and he my player.

"That's it baby, come for me."

His smooth voice caressed my ears, sending a signal down to my vagina in spasms. His voice was what pushed me over the edge. I orgasmed loudly, revelling in the feeling I got as my muscles clenched and unclenched around him, milking him until he poured himself into me with as much gusto as I'd just demonstrated. He made sure he'd emptied every last drop he could produce into me before pulling out, walking round to the bed and sitting down heavily. He flopped himself backwards so that he was lying across the mattress, his legs dangling off the edge. I turned around and mirrored him.

"Welcome home, darlin'."

A grin spread across my face and a familiar sting rushed to my cheeks. I couldn't help but adore him.