CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX #2
“To fuck without a sense of sin or concealment.” I thrust back into her deeply. And she whimpers. I wind my hand in her hair again and pull her up, her back to my front, and kiss her deeply while I slowly fuck her.
“It’s tantric. To fuck, purely for the pleasure of it and not to be afraid of doing whatever you need to achieve your high,” I whisper in her ear just before I nip tiny bites down the line of her jaw.
“Fuck me, Sean,” she whispers in a moan, and I’m a fucking goner.
I set a rhythmic pace, moving deeper, edging us, getting us both almost there, time and time again.
Bringing us both to the precipice then slowing, knowing when I finally let us both come it’s going to shatter any orgasm she’s ever felt and take hold of us both in a way neither of us has ever experienced.
Because I’ve never fucked a woman before with any sort of feeling.
I’ve never wanted to know the deepest parts of a woman’s soul the way I want to know Layla.
“Sean … please, please let me come,” she begs sometime later as her legs shake and her hips rock back into me.
“No, little dove, not yet. You’re going to remember what it feels like to be properly fucked.
My perfect little cock whore. My own special little toy,” I groan as I feel my balls tighten and my release lick at my spine again.
It must be the third or fourth time I’ve been ready to come since I began.
I pull out of her, needing a fucking break myself.
I lie back on the rug, turning her and guiding her down to straddle me. She’s still blindfolded, but inch by inch she sinks down on my cock, her hair falling over her shoulders.
“You’re too big like this …” she whimpers.
“No I’m not, you can take it.”
She sinks down a little more and shudders.
“Don’t tease me, little dove, slide that messy little cunt down on my cock or I’ll do it for you. Every inch.”
Her nails make little crescents in my chest as she slinks down inch by fucking mind-blowing inch until I’m fully rooted in her.
I still, just enough to bring us both back down, then pull the blindfold from her eyes.
She focuses, her eyes desperate for me, and we’re both covered in a veil of sweat with the hot and heavy air around us.
“You don’t come until I tell you …” I warn her, desperate to come myself.
Layla is boneless above me, rocking her hips, her hands pressed to my chest, whispering her begging words as I reach between us and pinch her clit. She’s wound so tightly, and every muscle is engaged as she tries to hold it together.
“Now you’re ready, little dove, when you get to this point. When I don’t even have to move to make you come.”
“I can’t anymore, Sean … I have to.”
Fuck, she’s dripping down the sides of my dick and I’m one shift of her hips away from unloading in her.
“Come for me then, Layla.” I grip her hips and look up at her, thrusting my hips just enough to give her what she needs.
“Yes …” she cries. “Sean!”
“Christ, I love the way you look at me when you come, like you know I belong to you …” I tell her as she cries out and her pussy strangles my cock.
“Atta girl … give us what we both want.” Another thrust, another cry.
“Ride me like my good girl. Let my cunt take every fucking drop I have to offer you.”
“Holy fuck, Sean!” she cries, her full and perfect tits bouncing.
She chants my name like a prayer, mixed with some form of please, please, please as she soaks my dick and pulls my own release from me with a force I’ve never felt before.
This time, I have no choice—I come with her as I sit up and wrap my arms around her, thrusting deep and fast.
“Fucking Christ, Layla. FUCK.” A growl rips through me as I grip her so tight my knuckles whiten. I come so fucking hard, barely even moving within her. I have no idea how much time passes like this, but when I open my eyes she’s looking down at me.
“Oh my God, that was … just …” she stammers, the pads of her fingers tracing my face, under my eyes, then over my cheeks. I lower us down onto the rug in the candlelight, flipping her off me, and hover over her, looking down at her beautiful breathless face. I nip at her ear.
“Life-changing …” I finish for her. “And that had nothing to do with God.”
“Well, that feeling should be a religion,” she mutters with a satisfied sigh. “A religion where the only members are us …”
I kiss her copper waves. “Now you’re getting it all figured out.
” I chuckle, lying down beside her, sated.
She crawls into my arms and my chest twists with the intense feelings of her snuggling in, but I don’t think, I just pull her closer and stroke her shoulder.
Layla looks up, her eyes growing serious as she watches me.
“Why don’t you sleep well?” she asks, reaching up and covering my jaw with her warm hand.
Looking at me with the concern of someone who’s known me for years, and I’m reminded how difficult it is to make sense of this connection between us.
It’s almost otherworldly. As if I knew her in another life, and maybe I did.
I was only drifting through time until the moment her eyes met mine, and then I became grounded. By her.
“Too many demons live here to sleep.” I point to my head.
Layla’s brows knot in concentration. “From your club life or another?”
“Both,” I answer instantly. “From the life I’ve lived, overseas and here. It’s not that I just remember what happened, I remember the sounds they made when I shot them, the look in their eyes. I fucking remember the smells, the weather … everything.”
I expect her to push deeper, to ask me how I feel, or tell me I can get help for it.
I can’t get help. I’ve tried that. My brain is too detailed to forget.
But instead Layla pulls my face to hers to kiss me, then slides out from under my arm, standing in her torn clothes as they half hang from her body.
“I’m going to shower. Some barbarian just ripped my clothes to shreds.
Join me if you want to,” she says, giving me the grace to keep my demons to myself.
She peels her bra off on the way to the shower and tosses it to the floor.
One simple action of not prying or trying to fix me and she just solidified what I already knew: Layla Monroe is it for me.
She bleeds light everywhere she goes. Even into the places of me that have always been pitch black.
I stand and chase her sassy little ass down the hall, scooping her up and dropping her on her bed as she laughs. She isn’t getting to that shower just yet.