Chapter 15
CHAPTER
FIFTEEN
R ock frowned when Lyla rubbed her temples as he pulled into his driveway later that night. “Your head hurting?”
“Not really. It was just a long day.”
“I think you need a bath, some snuggling, and some sleep.”
He loved the way she groaned at the suggestion. “That sounds amazing.”
Rock rounded the car, opened the door for her, and helped her out. Without a word, he guided her into the house and took her jacket. He cupped her face and took a chance. “Let me bathe you.”
She swallowed and then nodded. “I’d like that.”
Rock took her hand and walked toward the bathroom. It wasn’t a huge bathroom. He’d never even thought about it. He’d lived here alone for a long time. He certainly didn’t need a big bathroom. But maybe this house wasn’t big enough for the two of them.
Please, God. Make this work. Let me spend the rest of my days with this woman .
Rock leaned over and turned on the water. He adjusted the temperature before putting the stopper in. When he turned back to look at Lyla, she was setting her jewelry on the vanity. She’d kicked off her shoes and placed them outside the bathroom, too.
When she reached for the hem of her shirt, he stopped her. “Let me, Baby girl,” he murmured.
“Okay.” She lifted her arms and allowed him to pull her shirt over her head.
As he dropped it in the hamper, he noticed her wincing slightly. He cringed, too, when he saw the bruises on her arms. He gently held her elbow and bent to kiss one bicep and then the other. “We’ll catch him, Little Lyla. I promise.”
He held her gaze while he unbuttoned her jeans. “You sure you’re okay with this?”
She nodded and stepped closer. “I want your hands on me. I want to remember. I want to go back in time and redo it.” Her voice wobbled.
He grabbed her belt loops and hauled her closer, kissing all over her cheeks. “Will you tell me why you left, Little one?” he whispered.
“Yes. Eventually.”
“Okay. I’ll respect that. We can’t go back in time, but we have forever in front of us. It started last night. You’re mine, Lyla.” He didn’t mean to growl, but it came out that way.
She nodded, though. “I’m yours. I was always yours.”
He unzipped her jeans and pulled them down her legs, squatting to tug them off her feet one at a time while she held his shoulders. While he was still face-level with her pussy, he tucked his fingers in her panties and eased them over her hips.
She’d shaved. Everything. So fucking sexy.
He leaned forward and kissed her pussy, loving the way she moaned.
As he rose, he eased his hands slowly up her body and slid them around to unfasten her bra. Fuck, she was gorgeous. She was prettier than his memory had conjured. Sexier than she’d been when she’d been eighteen.
“Jesus…” he whispered. “I’m so fucking lucky.”
She shivered. Her nipples stiffened. Hard rose-colored tips reached for him, fuller than they’d been all those years ago. She weighed a few more pounds than she had then, but her breasts were fantastic, still high and firm.
“You’re staring,” she murmured.
“I’m going to come in my jeans.”
She giggled. “Take them off?”
He shook his head. “Not now. Let me wash you first.” He took her hand and helped her into the tub.
His cock pressed hard against his fly, but he ignored it. He set a folded towel on the tile and dropped to his knees to wash his Little girl.
Lyla sighed contentedly and let him take care of her. She closed her eyes as he poured water over her head. It had been so long since he’d washed someone, but it felt like home. Like he’d been waiting for her, and now she was here.
He took his time, letting his hands gently scrub her scalp, paying close attention to not put too much pressure on the back of her head. He moved to her arms and legs and, finally, her torso and pussy.
They didn’t speak while he washed her. It was a reverent experience. She parted her thighs for him and moaned softly when he touched her pussy with the washcloth.
When he was done, he let the water out and helped her step out of the tub. He patted her dry and wrung out her hair before combing through it. “You’re a goddess,” he told her as he set the comb down.
“I guess that makes you a god.” She turned in his arms, grabbed the hem of his shirt, and pulled it over his head. “You have more tattoos than you had then.”
“Yeah.”
She ran her fingers over them, examining his chest and arms.
He held his breath as she lowered her gaze to the tattoo under his pec. “What’s this one?”
He bit his lip and stared at the top of her head. Maybe he should lie. Make something up. But he couldn’t lie to her. Not ever.
She lifted her gaze. “Rock? It looks like a sketchbook.”
He nodded. “It is.”
She leaned closer and spread her fingers around the tattoo, getting a better view. “Jesus, Rock. Oh my God.”
He pursed his lips.
“My name is in this. You tattooed my name on your body. When did you do this?”
He drew in a breath. “That summer.”
She set her forehead against his pecs, breathing heavily before kissing the tattoo. “I can’t… Did anyone ever know? The letters are so subtle.”
“No. No one ever knew.” He understood what she’d meant. Had his wife known?
She had not. He’d told her the tattoo was from an art phase. He hadn’t wanted to hurt her. There had been no need. When he’d been with Kathy, she’d been his world. He had never cheated on her, not even emotionally. He’d loved her. Their love hadn’t been like the love he felt for Lyla. It had been different, but he’d loved her and mourned deeply when she’d left them.
Lyla moved her hands to the button on his jeans and popped it open, lowering the zipper moments later.
He didn’t move or deny her whatever she needed. He simply stroked her hair while she lowered his jeans over his hips, taking his briefs with them.
His cock popped free, and he tried to focus on anything else in the world to keep from coming without her touching him. It had been so fucking long since he’d been with a woman, and this wasn’t some random woman. This was his Little Lyla. His Little girl. His world. For the rest of his days, he would worship her in every way she would let him.
He suddenly realized he didn’t care if she never wanted to hone her Little side. It would change nothing. He loved her so deeply that he would do anything for her, including tamping down the Daddy side of him that wanted to push to the surface. If Lyla couldn’t do it, he would never pressure her. He would love her until they died wrapped in each other’s arms. Age play be damned.
Lyla abandoned his jeans when they were around his knees and reached up to stroke his cock. “I remember this,” she murmured.
He chuckled lightly and reached down to stroke a finger over her nipple. “I remember this.”
“You changed my life that night,” she said reverently. “You ruined me.”
He shuddered and grabbed the edge of the vanity. “That was my goal,” he admitted.
“I never had sex like that again. I told myself it was a fluke.” She tipped her head back. “You made me come.”
He sucked in a breath. Had no one else ever made her come? “Baby…” He cupped her face.
“I need you inside me. I need your mouth on me. I need…” She dropped her gaze, grabbed his hips, and wrapped her lips around his cock.
He moaned and arched forward, gripping the vanity hard. Jesus, fuck .
She sucked him in deep, moaning around his shaft. His knees threatened to buckle. “Lyla…”
He grabbed her shoulders. “Baby girl, you have to stop. I’m going to come.”
She shook him off and gripped the base of his cock with one small hand, bobbing up and down, driving him out of his mind in seconds. He couldn’t stop her. He didn’t have the energy. He’d already told her he was going to come. Obviously, that wasn’t a deterrent.
His balls drew up, and he tipped his head back before he finally stopped fighting the need and screamed out his release.
Lyla swallowed every drop, moaning around his shaft. When he was fully spent, she finally released him with a pop and looked up at him. “That was so hot.”
He groaned. “Baby girl, that’s my line.”
She rose to her feet. “Maybe we should move to the bed?”