Laya
LAYA
He stands at the foot of the bed; his sharp stare penetrates me with such desire that heat travels up and over my neck. Achingly slowly, his gaze roams over me, from head to toe, as if memorizing every inch of me. The longing in his eyes is imperative, sending a shiver and surge of arousal through my body. Has his need for me always been so great, and only now I am seeing it?
I watch with rapture as he disrobes and kicks his clothes to the side until all that remains is the folded belt in his hand.
“Open your legs.”
His stare lands on my pussy, and he licks his lips, the lips which devoured me after waiting a lifetime for their willing touch.
“Put your hands on your ankles, , and pull your legs up.”
I move on his command, thrusting my legs up and holding them open.
“This what you want?” He fists his cock with his free hand, and my breath catches. All my dreams are finally my reality, yet my mind can’t play catch-up. “Fucking answer!”
“Ye-yes.”
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, please.”
“Fuck, yes,” he grunts as his hips work in time with his fist. “I’m going to come on you, . Would you like that, baby girl? For me to come on you?”
Oh, dear god. I want it so badly I can barely construct words.
“Ye-yes.”
“Of course you would.” He steps closer and raises the belt. Then before I can dispute it, the sharpness of the leather hitting my pussy makes my back arch off the mattress. “Always teasing me with your tight little ass.” The veins on his neck protrude, and he slaps the leather against me again, the burn overwhelming as I squeeze my eyes shut but snap them open just as quick, not wanting to miss a damn thing. “Those perfect tits begging to be marked.” His shoulders pull tight, and his jaw sharpens as if angry before slapping me harder, causing me to cry out. “Tormenting me.” Holy shit, he admitted he wanted me too. I bite into my lip as another searing lash hits my bare flesh.
“Like fucking torture, not touching you,” he grits out with such hatred that guilt slices through me at the turmoil I caused him. I welcome this lash; I take it willingly, if only to take away a sliver of his pain.
He throws the belt to the floor and kneels onto the bed. Then he sits back on his heels between my legs, and I raise my head to watch him jerk his cock. Pre-cum coats the bulging vein running up his length, and the thick head is purple, looking painful as his desire slides from his slit. “Fuck, yeah. Watch me coat your pussy with my cum, baby girl.”
Sweat coats his forehead as his fist works faster and faster, and all I can do is watch with hungry eyes at his eagerness as streams of pre-cum land on my pussy, increasing the arousal leaking from me.
My pussy burns from his belt, but as my arousal slips from me, I crave his thickness. “I need you inside me, Owen. I want you to come inside me.”
“Fucking Jesus,” he hisses as his cum shoots from the tip of his engorged cock. The look of ecstasy on his face is like something I have never witnessed before. Every thought I ever dreamed, every stolen moment, nothing could have prepared me for his look. I’ll never forget it. Pure, unadulterated rapture coats every feature of his perfectly handsome face, and I commit it to memory, to keep it forever.
As his breathing regulates, his eyes meet mine. My heart thuds with nervousness. Is this the moment he leaves?
He drops, resting his elbow at the side of my head, our eyes locking and our mouths a hairsbreadth apart. “You still want this?” He drags the tip of his cock through his cum and down to my hole where it rests at my entrance, teasing me with a promise of things to come.
“More than anything,” I whisper.
His soft lips find mine, and one palm holds my head in place while he uses the other to guide himself inside me.
He swallows my whine as I wince at the intrusion, my vagina struggling to accommodate him.
He’s big compared to any man I’ve seen in the porn I’ve watched, but it’s given me a good indication on the size of a man’s dick, and Owen is something else. I spent my teen years stalking him and watching him fuck other women—always on the sidelines, wanting more, hoping for more, but never being enough.
“You’re too good for me, baby girl.”
I move to shake my head and argue, but his hand holds me firmly. “But you’re going to take every fucking inch of this cock like a good girl. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
He glares at me. “Yes, fucking what?”
“Yes, please.”
He nods, seemingly happy with my response, then draws his hips back and surges deep inside me. My back arches off the bed on a choked scream, and his pupils dilate. A feral look of ownership crosses over him as he slams his thick cock through the barrier. “Fuck, I could come already. Your perfect little cunt is squeezing me so tight.”
I moan his loss when he slides his cock out to the tip. “You see that?” I glance between us, his cock coated in a mixture of our arousal and my blood. I nod.
“Your pussy is mine, do you hear? Your blood is on my cock, mine. You’ve marked me too, baby girl.” He grips my chin between his fingers, forcing my eyes on him. The enormity of what we’ve done feels monumental. We’ve claimed one another, not just with our bodies, but with our hearts too. “Do you understand?”
“Yes,” I utter.
“Good girl. I’m going to come inside you, okay?”
“Ye-yes.”
He settles above me once again, then narrows his eyes. “Are you still on the pill?”
Something about that makes my gut twist, but being too overwhelmed at finally getting what I’ve always wanted has me banishing the thought just as quickly as it came.
“, hanging on by a thread here, baby. Are you on the pill?” His eyes implore mine.
“Ye-yes.”
“Thank fuck.” He slams his lips against mine as his cock sears into me. Each slam harder than the last as his thrusts increase speed with each moan I cry. Each one an aphrodisiac to the last. “I’ll never get enough of you, baby.” His words burn into my soul, bringing with it the solitude I’ve always wished for, yet only ever dreamed about achieving.
My hand finds his jaw, and I hold his mouth against mine, desperate not to let him slip away, to taste this moment, treasure it, and never let it leave me. My free hand clings to his powerful shoulders, my nails piercing his skin, yet I’ve no choice but to hold on and hope to never let go.
The slapping of our skin fills the room as his body brands me as his. “Fuck, so goddamn good.” I preen at his words. “So goddamn mine.”
I belong to him: my heart, soul, and now my body too.
Flurries of sparks swirl deep inside me, threatening to ignite into a torrent of flames with each twirl of his hips, each powerful slam of his cock, and each growl of his ownership. I moan into his mouth as our tongues tangle, our passion colliding into something prolific.
“Fuck. I’m going to come,” he grunts as my walls clamp around him like a vise. “I’m going to come, .” As his cock hits me deeper, he groans. “Tell me you’re mine.” The slam of his body is more forceful than the last. “Tell me,” he growls, sending a shiver down my spine as my wetness spills between us.
“I’m yours.” I’ve always been yours , I want to add.
“Fuck, you’re coating my cock, . Fucking beautiful, baby.” Then he moves and stares down at his cock pistoning in and out of me, his gaze flicking back to my throat, and I know what he wants. I’ve witnessed it so many times before.
“Do it,” I encourage, my eyes searing him with the same desire coursing through our connected bodies.
His eyes flare and the cords of his muscles appear taught, as if he’s struggling, but then he wraps both hands around my throat and presses. I give myself over to him, trusting him wholeheartedly because my wounded warrior would never hurt me or break me.
His thrusts become erratic, and when a moan vibrates around his hands, his fingertips flex and his mouth drops open. A choked grunt escapes him as he stares at me through heavy eyes, then his cock pulsates deep inside me, taking me over the edge with him.
Our gazes are locked as I float into the abyss with him, the pleasure so overwhelmingly good I never want to be grounded again. He slows his pace, as if draining the last of his energy along with his cum.
Heavy breaths fill the room as he eases his hands from around my neck, and just like that, his face falls, as if realization hit him.
When his eyes flash with vulnerability and hurt, I know I’ve lost him and that this night will become a scarred memory.
His fingers tremble as they graze over what I can only guess are the marks left behind by his fingers, and he rears back as if electrocuted.
“Fuck.” He tugs on the back of his neck. “Fuck!” he bellows, staring up at the ceiling. While his cock remains deep inside me, his panicked expression sends a ripple of uncertainty through me.
When he drops his head forward again, his bottom lip wobbles, and my heart shatters.
He regrets it.
“Owen?”
He shakes his head and bites into his lip, then after a moment, he clears his throat. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
He thinks he hurt me. That’s why he’s reacting this way?
“You didn’t.” I’m quick to reassure him, so eager to keep him.
He shakes his head again, as if banishing my response, then slides out of me, and I can’t help the wince that falls from my lips.
His eyes draw up toward mine, and he licks over his top teeth. “Exactly,” he says, as if receiving the confirmation he needed.
“Everyone hurts a little when they lose their virginity, Owen,” I bite back as he storms toward the bathroom door.
He reappears just as quickly, and I can tell with the furious gleam in his eyes that I’ve lost him, and the thought sends my stomach plummeting. “Does everyone have marks around their neck too?” he snipes out, throwing his hand out toward me.
My fingers find my neck while he throws a washcloth onto the bed, pissing me off with his behavior.
“Can you not be such an ass, Owen?”
He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth as steam practically blows from his ears, and I wipe away our cum coating my thighs.
“Not be such an ass?” My eyes snap to his. “I just fucked you raw, . My best friend’s little sister, while choking you out. Not to mention, I took your virginity.” He scoops up his clothes and dumps them on the bed, then he buttons his shirt as if desperate to leave the room.
“You didn’t do anything I didn’t want.” I shrug, my eyes pleading with him to see I want this.
“Right. Congratulations, you got what you wanted.” He finishes buttoning his slacks, and I try not to cry with the way he’s speaking to me.
Owen is never angry with me; he’s always made me feel like he has all the time in the world for me, like we’re in our own bubble. He’s protected me from my brother’s taunts and mindless teenagers bitching. He’s always shown me he cared, even if it wasn’t in the way I wanted.
My eyes narrow in on him, the way he’s dismissing me and what we did as if it meant nothing, when only moments ago he told me I was his everything. Fury spikes inside me. “I don’t want you to be an ass about it.”
He scoffs and shakes his head again.
“We can speak to Tate. He’ll understand.”
He buckles his belt, and when he turns to face me, my soul crumbles into a thousand pieces. “You and me both know that’s not going to happen.”
My lip wobbles as emotion swirls through my veins, sending my heart into turmoil. “Wh-what do you mean?”
His eyes, usually so full of fun and laughter, are cold and calculating. “This was a one-time thing, . You know that as much as I do.”
I fist the sheet, tugging it toward me like a blanket of comfort to protect me against his words.
He slips his feet into his shoes and adjusts his watch, covering my bracelet once again, covering my existence.
I sit, frozen in shock at how I gave him my everything and he happily stole it from me.
“Make sure you cover the marks.” He nods toward my neck, then turns and walks to the bedroom door, leaving me stunned as my eyes lock onto the blood-streaked sheets.
“And ?” He glances over his shoulder, his face void of emotion. “Put some fucking panties on.”
Then, with a slam of the bedroom door, he’s gone, destroying me.
My fingers tremble as I toy with the necklace and try to remain strong.
I know him.
This is not him.
He’s running scared.
He’d never hurt me intentionally, and the thought of him losing my brother became too much for him to bear. That must be it.
Owen James Stevens told me I am his everything, and I believe him.
Taking another glance in the mirror, I double-check to make sure his finger marks are covered with the concealer.
My mom texted to let me know everyone was waiting for me to make an appearance. I bite into my lip at the ache between my thighs, a dull throb that reminds me of where the man I adore was only twenty minutes ago.
I’m determined to turn this night around. It’s been momentous for me. I finally got what I’ve always wanted. Now I need to get him on board with it too. Taking a deep breath, I steel myself. This birthday will be one to remember for more than what just happened. It’s the beginning of my future, our future.
I pull open the door, and as I walk toward the stairs, the guests erupt into claps, hoots, and whistles, party poppers go off, and my favorite song, “Black Magic” by Little Mix, fills the foyer as I beam at my mom’s party organizing skills.
As I descend the staircase, my eyes lock onto Owen, and I pause mid-step. He has a woman tucked under his arm, her straight blonde hair and pale skin the complete opposite of me. He doesn’t pay me any attention as he places a kiss on her forehead while she smiles back at him with a love-struck gaze. A gaze I recognize well, the same gaze on my face whenever I’m around him. My blood runs cold. How the hell can he stand to be around another woman when he just fucked me? My lip wobbles, and I try to shake their image from my mind, but it’s stuck there, squeezing tightly at my chest while the background noise of celebration goes off around me.
A loud noise snaps my attention toward my father when he hits a microphone. “We’re all here tonight to celebrate our beautiful girl turning eighteen. We’re so incredible proud of you, .” Claps and shouts of “Happy Birthday” flood my ears, yet the whooshing sound of the turmoil of my heart is louder. “We also have another celebration tonight.” I dart my gaze toward my younger brother, Dex. He stares back at me with concern, his eyes narrowed and scanning over me. We’ve always been close, so in tune with one another, as if we’re from the same blood and not adopted. He knows my inner thoughts, my dreams, my obsession, and when I see his fists pump beside him, I know he knows something happened with Owen. I give my head a subtle shake, and he sighs. “Tonight, one of our boys has gotten engaged.” I turn my focus toward Tate, who grins like an idiot. Nope, there’s no way he’s engaged. The guy is a manchild. Then I move to Shaw. He’s not officially my brother, but my parents have always welcomed him as such with him being one of Tate’s best friends. They all fall under the same umbrella as far as my parents are concerned. They’re family. It’s what always made me believe it would be easier than Owen expected for us to become an official couple. My family already loves him. “Congratulations, Owen and Samantha!”
I cling to the banister, but my knees buckle. My heart is torn from my body, leaving me a shell and unable to function. The room feels like it’s spinning as I struggle to suck in air, the crushing pain in my chest too much to bear when all I want to do is scream and plead for help. I squeeze my eyes shut at the heartache, trying and failing to regain control. A loud noise erupts, and I snap my eyes open to witness Dex fly toward Owen, landing a punch at his jaw while my ass drops onto the red carpet.
Devastation, betrayal, and heartbreak rack through me. All of it hits simultaneously as I struggle to breathe, my mind spinning with a tsunami of flashbacks. Every touch and smile he reserved solely for me has become debris. Nothing more than dust floating away like it never existed.
He was never mine.
It’s clear now; I was just a fantasy he played out. He used me and discarded me like I meant nothing to him at all.
I gave him my heart, and he destroyed it. The flames that burned between us become ash as I stare through the bars of the banister and our gazes lock. The impact behind his stare causes a jolt deep in my chest, a scar lancing my heart. He’s right, he’s scarred me. Then her hand guides his face toward hers, and he allows it. Their lips touch while mine quivers.
He’s gone.
My hand finds the necklace sitting like a weight around my neck, and I will myself to snap it away from me, to break it like he’s broken me. But I can’t because I love him.
I love him, and it hurts so much.
He was meant to be my everything, but he never will be.