44. Chapter 44
44
Layla
Every heartbeat makes my head spiral, every pulse makes me want to climb into my own head and pull my brain out, just to stop the questions, just to stop the noise.
Because I don’t understand anything, my parents, my whole life a lie.
I look down at the folder in my lap, the mustard yellow card looks like any other old folder, slightly dirty and bulging just like the envelope, apart from that, nothing obscure about it. The contents though, are somewhat more ominous. I open it and read the file along with the scribbled handwriting that has been added by, I’m assuming, my grandad.
Agents Sarah Johnson I want to forget about Grandad. I want to forget about the girls from the shipment, I want to forget about the questions and confusion.
Just forget.
Even if it’s for a moment.
I pass cleaners meticulously scrubbing and polishing, filling the air with the faint scent of cleaning products. I hear the sound of emptying dishwashers and glass clinking. I barrel through his office door, freezing when I see him at his desk.
“Layla!”
We agreed I would rest. We agreed I'd stay in the penthouse. We agreed I’d do what I was told. Well, he agreed, I just smiled and nodded.
“Are you okay? What’s happened?”
I stand leaning against the door drinking in his appearance, I’m worrying him, I know I am.
He stands, unfolding himself from behind his large oak desk. His hair is a mess, he’s been running his hand through it, his sleeves rolled up, showing me his strong forearms.
“I made a promise,” I say, my voice small. “You said if I wanted to hurt myself that I come to you.”
His eyes darken, even though I’m not sure whether it’s possible since they are already so dark. I’m a tight coil ready to spring.
He walks towards me, tentatively, watching me. Taking in my dishevelled state. Fresh faced, blonde hair pulled into a messy ponytail, ripped jeans and a T-shirt.
He touches my chin gently and lifts my face to his, inspecting me like a prized possession.
His prized possession.
“What happened?”
“I need to feel you.” I need you.
“Something’s happened?”
“Quieten my head.” I plead. I’m not ready to share what I found. I’m not ready to put the questions out there.
“You need me to make you forget?” he asks, dropping his voice.
His mouth crushes against mine, his hard body pushing my back against the door.
There is nothing soft about this encounter and that’s fine with me. His kiss is rough, dominating. I open my mouth to the onslaught of his tongue as he deepens it.
He pulls back. “You want me to fuck you,” he says, and I can’t speak only moan against the onslaught of his wicked hands as they reach under my T-shirt, searing my skin at the contact. He pulls at my bra to squeeze my sensitive nipples. My own hands become greedy as they search for entry to his trousers, trying to release his length so I can feel the smooth silky skin against my palms.
I whine when he releases my breasts but he grips my arse and pulls up, I jump and wrap my legs around him, our mouths fused together.
He navigates me to his desk where he places me down breaking the kiss looking at me whilst touching his lips. I unbutton my jeans, my lips swollen and sore. He stands there motionless as I pull my jeans and thong down, lying back on my elbows.
He sits on his chair and pulls it to me, his warm hands spreading my legs so that I’m completely open to him. “Fuck, I’m never going to get this vision out my head when I’m sitting here.” He groans, his deep voice a purr in the quiet office.
Every muscle tenses as I wait for him to deliver the tantalising lick that will make me forget everything other than this moment.
He kisses my ankle, nibbling and sucking all the way up to my inner thigh, as his hand roams lazily on the other side. My skin is feverish as wetness pools between my legs, while he takes his time over it, over me. Driving me into a frenzy, but also giving me the most erotic and sensual moment of my life.
And then he’s there, licking devilishly slowly across my folds and I groan in relief. His finger pushes in, and my eyes roll back. This is what I needed.
He adds another finger, hitting the delicious spot inside me, and just as I’m about to crash over he puts the perfect amount of pressure with his tongue on the bundle of nerves, and I detonate, screaming incoherently. But he doesn’t stop, no, he’s lapping and sucking at my hot skin and soon I’m erupting again.
My hands go to his head, holding him there as my legs grip his shoulders and he milks every ounce of pleasure from me.
I collapse back onto his desk in a heap, eyes closed, panting. I open my eyes to smile at him when my mouth forms a O and I feel his hard length at my opening, and he slides in.
It’s slow, he leans forward and kisses me gently, I can taste my arousal on his lips. The pace is leisurely and languid until suddenly he pulls out. Pulling me up, he spins me, then pushes me back down, so my bare arse is in the air, my stomach flush against his desk as he slams back into me. One hand grips my waist almost painfully as the other holds me against the desk.
He pounds into me, the sound of our skin slapping and our grunts fill the quietness of the office. He continuously drives into me, all control lost, when he releases his grip and slaps my arse. The surprise of the movement shocks me.
“Again!” I shout.
And he slaps me again, hard, the warmth spreading from my cheek as he fucks me with abandonment. He’s deep, deeper than he’s ever been, his thrusts and hard cock feeling like he’s hitting my ovaries.
He slaps me again.
“Fuck!” I shout, as pleasure erupts through me, every nerve ending lights up and I scream out my release. It comes out of nowhere but it’s no less powerful than the previous and he tumbles after, his own shouts of pleasure following mine as he collapses onto me panting against my neck.
We lay there, his weight holding me down on his desk. “I hope these papers weren’t important,” I say eventually.
“Fuck the papers.” He nestles into my neck and kisses it, then pulls back and places a soft kiss on my cheek before removing his weight from my back, and slowly pulls out. He falls back into the chair, naked from the waist down. I push off from the desk, papers stuck to my skin, and I slowly turn around, leaning up against the desk, he inclines his head back, closing his eyes.
“Everything okay?” I ask.
He opens an eye. “I could ask you the same thing, sunshine.”
I stand from his desk and peel a piece of paper from my skin placing it on the desk behind me. I start to dress myself, as Luca watches me. I pull my underwear on quickly, then my jeans as Luca stands and pulls his own trousers back up, tucking himself in.
“I’m…” I’m not even sure what I am. “I need to show you something.”
He doesn’t say anything, just sits in his chair, pulls out a cigarette and flicks his zippo. The flame creates shadows that dance over his beautiful features.
I pull out the case file, and set it on his desk and pour us both a drink from his drinks cabinet.
Maybe he can help me make sense of it and lead me out of this nightmare.