CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Sean
Layla removes herself from my grasp, clearly with her own agenda as she slides her hands down my chest and drops to sit on the shower seat behind her, looking up at me with those big siren eyes and my blood on her face.
Just the feel of her hand wrapping around my cock as she takes control makes my eyes roll back, for fuck’s sake.
Everything about this woman drives me crazy.
I skate my thumb over her bottom lip as I look down at her, wanting everything she’s willing to give me.
I commit this to memory—her pretty face stained red with me.
I’ll fucking remember it for the rest of my days.
“Open up for me then, little dove. Show me where you want my cock.”
She taps her lips. “Here,” she breathes out, leaning in to swirl her tongue over the crown of my dick.
Her long copper hair is a wild tangle around her shoulders and her pretty pink nipples are on display.
All I want to do is bury myself so deep in that sweet fucking pussy I can’t stop thinking about.
But first I need to stuff my cock down her throat to take the edge off or I won’t last five minutes in her tight wet cunt.
It’s been too long, and she’s tortured me too much.
Water hits her lashes as she looks up at me, a wicked gleam in her eyes.
I fucking love being right. I knew this woman was made for me.
I graze my hand over her wet hair as she tastes me, slowly at first. Then her eyes turn from curious to desperate as fuck in a heartbeat as I stroke her cheek with my thumb, washing my blood from her face.
I’m aching against her lips. I finish washing away the red from her skin and move my thumb down to her bottom lip, popping her mouth open before reaching to the back of her head and collecting her hair in my fist, pushing her toward my cock.
I watch in awe as she takes me fully into her mouth, and I slide into her throat with ease, pressed against her tongue, and groan.
Motherfucking perfect.
She gags when I hit the back of her throat, and I slowly pull out while I look down at her.
“Suck,” I order, and she smiles with sass and fucking nips at me.
I hiss and shake my head no, reaching down to pinch her nipple hard in response.
She whimpers as if the pain fuels her, then she takes over, wrapping her fingers around the base of my cock.
Covering me with her lips again, Layla takes me deep a second time and moans around me.
I watch as she clenches her thighs together on the seat.
“Fuck,” I breathe out. “You like tormenting me? It makes you wet to show me how well you can take my fat cock?” I love the feel of her tongue against me, sliding along the underside of my shaft.
The sass in her eyes holds my attention as I tangle my hand in her hair again, holding her exactly where I want.
“You look so pretty like this, Layla … fucking beautiful,” I murmur.
She shivers at my praise.
“Yeah, you love being my filthy fucking girl, don’t you?” She nods with her big doe eyes looking up at me and my cock in her mouth and my knees weaken at the sight. I set the pace for her and cover her hand with mine at the base of my cock. “That’s it …” I’m lost in the feel of her.
She moans around my length again as I push deeper. She has no idea how good she feels. Un-fucking-real.
She trades between swallowing me down and teasing me with small licks and whimpers that tell me she’s as desperate to come as I am.
I slide out of her mouth almost all the way, and Layla’s tongue glides over me before she takes me as deep as she can. Her eyes are full of fire, water glistening on her long lashes, mascara running down her cheeks. She’s fucking perfect.
“Fuck, I wish you could see what I see right now, how well this pretty mouth takes my thick cock.”
But I need more, it’s not enough. I’ve never wanted more with any woman, but with her, I just can’t get close enough.
I need to taste her, to come with her, and I don’t have the room to do that in this shower.
I kill the water, lift her from her seat, and her legs wrap around my waist as I step out of the shower.
A cool rush of air surrounds us and she gasps.
Water drips everywhere while we move the short distance to her room, and I kiss her deeply all the way.
I sit on the bed with her on top of me, and groan as my cock slides through her slit. She moans and lets her head fall back.
“Come here,” I whisper. I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me, but I don’t want to fuck her yet; I want to savor every single second of this first time with her.
She looks at me questioningly as I grip her hips and guide her movements so I can devour her while she swallows my cock.
“No, here.” I tap my lips. “Come sit on my face, Layla.”
She bites her lower lip but listens right away, moving up to straddle my face. I grip her ass and spread her wide, her dripping cunt hovering over my tongue.
“Get back to work now. Suck my dick while I feast.”
Layla pants, leaning forward and moving her hand down my shaft, chasing it with her mouth. Heat washes over me as she swallows my cock.
I lose it and thrust upward into her throat, and she gags around me.
“Just like that. Good fucking girl …”
She lifts up then moves her mouth back down before I can even get another word out. The tip of my cock hits the back of her throat, and I groan as I spread her legs wider. Her swollen pussy is dripping as I lay a tight little smack to her clit and she moans, sucking me deeper.
I don’t deny myself any longer; my tongue flicks against her clit. Her back arches and I fucking love it. I give her another slap, then suck her clit into my mouth just to torture her.
“Christ, you have the prettiest fucking pussy,” I tell her, sliding my finger through her as she keeps on sucking. She tries to clench her thighs together and I know I’m driving her crazy. I fucking love it. I give in then, devouring her.
“More,” she moans, then swallows my cock again, but she’s hesitating to put her weight fully on my face.
“I’ll give you what you want, little dove, but first you have to sit.
” I grip her tight and pull her down forcefully until the weight of her is resting on my tongue as I slide the flat of it through her slit.
“Stay right here.” I lap her up again. Fuck me.
She’s the sweetest fucking thing I’ve ever tasted.
Layla moans as her drool leaks down my shaft and she turns wild, grinding her pussy down into my face. She sucks while I eat, and her nails dig into my thighs as my palms grip her hips and hold her pussy tight to my face, my tongue buried inside her.
The fucking sweetest. My cock slides out of her mouth and she cries out against me as she prepares to come.
Her body shakes and I suction my lips around her clit and suck, hard.
Her palm slaps my thigh and she rears up, pressing her pussy down into my face, riding my tongue—and my cock throbs, jealous.
“Holy fuck …” she cries out frantically.
I stop.
“I didn’t tell you to stop sucking, Layla,” I growl and she obeys, leaning back down to continue swallowing my aching cock. “I’m gonna … come!” she cries around me. I grip her tighter.
“We’re gonna come together,” I order, sucking her clit again. We continue like this, writhing together as I fuck her throat and she rides my face.
Within seconds, her legs shake as I push her over the edge, and my balls tighten.
“I’m gonna paint your throat with my come now, and you’re gonna swallow every fucking drop,” I say.
“Please …” she begs, and it does me in. Using the one firing brain cell I have left, I devour her pretty pussy as she pumps my cock with her hand once, twice, before sucking me hard into her mouth as I erupt down her throat, still sucking on her clit, groaning into her as she soaks my face.
It’s as passionate as it is downright fucking dirty.
Layla chokes and sputters around my cock for a few seconds as she struggles to swallow everything I’ve given her.
Her lips make a popping sound as they slide off my dick and I lay a kiss on her clit as we catch our breath.
Then she shudders, climbs off me and spins around, crawling right up into my arms, still soaking wet from the shower.
“I’ve never …” she sighs. “I’ve never felt anything like that.” She looks up at me, the smile on her lips growing, and I love being the only man who gives her these experiences.
I swipe her half-dried hair from her face.
“Fuck, I’ve never wanted to wait,” I tell her, hoping she understands. For the first time in my life, the want I feel for a woman hasn’t disappeared after I’ve come. With Layla it’s only grown, and I want to draw it out.
Her lips are swollen and pink, and just the look of her like this is making me want to bury myself in her and never come up for air. My dick starts to harden again with just the thought.
Layla reaches up and brushes her fingers across my cheek, then rubs her finger and thumb together, coated in my blood. The vision of her painted in my blood makes my dick twitch even more and I’m not even sorry about it.
“Well, that’s good, because you’re going to have to wait while you let me fix that. You’re bleeding everywhere,” she says with a smile.
I raise my eyebrow at her.
“What? You can tell me what to do but I can’t tell you?
” she asks. Standing up, she pulls her robe off the back of the door.
“I have wound tape. We’ll tape it. That’s almost as good as stitches.
So, stay here.” I wait while she disappears to the bathroom for a second and comes back with a first aid kit.
Fuck if I know why, but I listen to her.
I’m sitting, still hard and ready for her, on the edge of the bed when she comes back.
She’s quiet as she stands between my legs and dabs the blood from my face with a damp piece of gauze, but her lips turn up in a small grin. It grows bigger as she begins taping my gash, tilting my head so she can work.
“What’s funny?” I ask as she tears open a butterfly bandage.
“Nothing. Just um … your prospect is still on my porch, probably sweating his ass off.”
“Fuck.” I laugh with her, shocked at myself that I lost so much time and space, something I just don’t do, but with her, it’s like I don’t give a fuck. I had totally forgotten Boyd was even here, and it has to be a hundred degrees out there in the late afternoon sun.
“A few more minutes won’t kill him. He’s a prospect, it’s good for him to sweat.”
Layla works carefully, telling me about the areas she’s planning to work on with my back next as she gently squeezes my wound closed and tapes me up, and I listen.
I also listen to her tell me what new kind of torture she’s going to put me through later.
Apparently, we’re going to start doing yoga since I missed my massage.
I hear my phone start to ring from the bathroom counter but I ignore it.
I just want a few more minutes like this before I have to shower and take her to the club.
I’ve never wanted to listen to a woman ramble before, or have someone to talk to at the end of the day, but hell, right now I’m pretty convinced that’s just because I hadn’t found her to listen to yet.