Chapter 9
Layla
Even though Sutton was well enough yesterday to walk unassisted, arguing, rather aggressively, with Willow that we should be allowed to go home, exhausted him to the point I was able to convince him to stay at least one more night.
It was worth it. The rest, in a proper bed, away from all the medical machines and computers beeping and buzzing, did him a world of good.
His color is back and his body… My god, I don’t know how, but his body is even more fit, his muscles more defined than ever.
He looks like he did when he cut to make weight, but he’s bigger.
He looks healthier than he ever did on the MMA circuit.
Warmth snakes down my spine and pools between my legs as my slick begins to flow. Not as much as it did when I was with…
I gulp down the guilt of thinking about Zayd. I’m supposed to forget him. I have to.
What better way to erase another man from my memory than to replace that memory with a new one?
“I’ve missed you,” I say, coming up behind Sutton, standing at the kitchen sink getting himself a glass of water, sliding my hands around his waist before dipping my fingers beneath the waist of his sweatpants.
“Not now, Layla,” he barks and turns out of my hold.
“Oh. Okay? I… Did I do something wrong?” I ask and wince at how ill-conceived that question is.
Sutton slumps his shoulders. “No. I just… I can’t.”
I want to let him go. Give him time, but I have never been good at keeping my mouth shut when I know I should. “We need to talk about this, Sutton.”
“I can’t. Not yet. I will deal with it, Layla, but I need some time. Please.”
Sutton has never snapped so hard at me or turned to pleading so quickly. No matter how much I want to talk about this, I really don’t want to fight about it.
“I’m going to order something from the kitchen. Do you want anything?” I ask, changing the subject.
Sutton shakes his head and mumbles, “I’m good. Thanks.”
I order my food while Sutton disappears into the bathroom.
My finger is still on the button, ending the call to the kitchen when Sutton spins me around, picks me up, and throws me on the bed.
Sutton is naked. I’ve never seen him so erect.
It looks angry.
So does Sutton.
“Sutton, baby? Are you okay?” My voice quavers.
Sutton doesn’t answer. He just strips me naked and takes me roughly, grunting and driving deeply with every thrust of his hips.
It’s worrying at first, but then I can’t help but give myself over to him.
I want him to use me. It’s what I’ve wanted since my first heatwave. It’s what I wanted from Zayd.
My body tenses when I think about Zayd, worried Sutton will know, somehow, and hate me for it.
But I don’t want to be with Zayd instead of Sutton.
If anything, I want to be with both of them.
A wave of slick coats Sutton’s cock. He thrusts harder, grunting and moaning.
It’s a ridiculous thought. It’s probably not even what I want. I’m just confused. Everything that’s happened over the last couple of days, how could I not be?
“You liked fucking him?” Sutton grumbles. My eyes widen, wondering if he read my thoughts. “Liked that fat alien cock in your tight little cunt, didn’t you?”
“Sutton…” I gasp as he forces my hands over my head, pinning them firmly to the mattress.
Sutton slows his movement. Taunting me with his body as much as his words. “Admit it, Layla. You liked it. You want more of it.”
I’m not sure if he’s trying to trap me or just wants to play out some kinky fantasy. “I love you, Sutton.”
He stills his hips and locks his eyes on mine. “Say it, Layla. You want more of that big, alien cock. Fucking say it.”
Whatever his reason, he’s serious. But is he angry?
I don’t know. I’ve never seen this side of Sutton before.
It scares me, but not as much as it turns me on.
Finally, eagerly, I admit, even though I’m not sure if it’s true, “Yes. I want it.”
Sutton moves his hips, slowly. Deliberately. Every inch of his length caresses my liquid-smooth tunnel. “What do you want, Layla? Use your words. Tell me what you want.”
“I want that big, fat alien cock.”
“Whose?” Sutton hisses, thrusting harder. Faster. Gripping my hips. “Say his name.”
I’m on the edge of my release when I scream, “Zayd. I want Zayd.”
Sutton groans as his hips shudder and his cock swells as he comes. It feels so good and rubs me just right that I come too, making Sutton curse and dig his fingers into my hips until it hurts.
“Jesus, Sutton. What the hell was that?” I say as soon as we’re finished, and the guilt covers me like a wet blanket.
Sutton withdraws and uses my shirt to wipe himself off. He grabs a pair of sweatpants out of the dresser built into the wall and pulls them on.
“You should get cleaned up. Your food will be here soon,” he says, coldly.
I don’t understand. It was his idea. Why would he torture himself like that? He had to know it would hurt.
Like I was any better. I knew it would hurt, and yet I played along.
We were both being stupid.
“Sutton…” I say, placing my hand on his shoulder, standing behind him. He pulls away. I wrap my arms around my chest. “I was just playing along. I didn’t mean it. You know that, right?”
“I know. I just… Go clean up. Please?” He turns his head to speak over his shoulder, but never takes his eyes off the floor.
“Yeah. Okay.” It’s weird, but I don’t think Sutton’s mad at me.
There’s definitely something going on there, but I don’t think it has anything to do with what I said.
If I had to guess, he’s mad at himself. Probably for making me say those things about Zayd.
We’ve played games in bed before that we’ve regretted later.
Tried some more serious BDSM stuff. It was not for us.
Maybe that’s what this is. He tried something, caught up in the heat of the moment, and now regrets it.
“I love you, Sutton. So much.” I kiss his cheek and turn toward the bathroom.
“Love you, too, Layla baby.”