13. LAYLA
13
LAYLA
My heart pounds as the door to the guest room clicks shut behind me, sealing us inside. My heels dangle from my fingers as I step further into the dimly lit space, the faint scent of cedarwood and something distinctly him wrapping around me.
The air is thick, charged with something neither of us has dared to name.
The party had been a blur of stolen glances, of fingertips grazing over skin in fleeting, dangerous touches. Of his voice, low and rough in my ear, making promises I’m not sure were ever spoken aloud.
And now, here we are.
Valentino leans against the door, arms crossed over his broad chest, watching me. His tie is loose around his neck, the top buttons of his shirt undone, revealing a sliver of tan skin I’ve been thinking about far too much tonight.
"My family loved you at the party. And seeing you in that dress… You looked beautiful tonight."
I arch a brow, setting my heels on the floor. "Only tonight?"
His smirk is lazy, dark. "You always look good." He pushes off the door, taking a slow step toward me. "But tonight? You were a distraction."
I let out a soft laugh, even as my pulse betrays me, racing at the way he closes the space between us. "A distraction? That’s an interesting way to say you couldn’t keep your eyes off me."
Valentino hums, his gaze dropping to my lips before lifting back to my eyes. "And here I thought you didn’t notice."
I tilt my chin up. "Oh, I noticed."
A challenge. A dare.
He takes another step closer, and suddenly, the space between us feels too small, the air too thick.
My breath catches, my body hyper-aware of every inch of him, of the heat rolling off him, the quiet intensity in his gaze, the way my own body leans into his pull, unable to fight it.
For the first time tonight, words fail us.
Silence settles, heavy and expectant.
And then we just look at each other.
No more teasing, no more games. Just anticipation. Need.
His jaw flexes, his eyes darkening, and in that moment, I know, if he touches me, if I let him, there will be no going back.
“So…” I murmur, turning to face him.
Valentino doesn’t answer.
Instead, his gaze devours me.
The intensity in his eyes steals the breath from my lungs.
Then, before I can second-guess myself, before logic can snap me back to reality, we collide.
His lips crash against mine, stealing every ounce of hesitation I had left.
His grip on my waist is possessive, his hands pulling me flush against him like I’m the only thing keeping him grounded.
My fingers tangle in his hair, nails grazing his scalp, and he groans against my mouth, a deep, primal sound that makes my body burn hotter.
We stumble toward the bed, but just as his strong arms press me down onto the mattress, I flip the script.
With a swift move, I push against his chest, forcing him onto his back instead.
Valentino blinks up at me, a surprised grin curving his lips.
“Oh?” His voice drips with amusement, but also something darker, a glint of curiosity, of hunger. “Feeling bold tonight?”
I smirk, straddling him, my hands trailing slowly over his chest. “Just thought I’d take control for a change.”
His smirk fades as his gaze darkens, heat sparking behind his molten chocolate brown eyes. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me right now.”
I lean forward, brushing my lips against his without fully kissing him, my breath ghosting over his jaw. “Then show me.”
His hands grip my hips, his fingers digging into the fabric of my dress, but instead of rushing to strip me bare, he suddenly stills.
“I want to see you take it off.” His command is low, hoarse, laced with something raw and desperate, thick with need.
I swallow, my pulse thrumming wildly.
Slowly, I slide off him and stand at the edge of the bed.
The room is so quiet that I can hear my own breathing, hear the way his breath hitches as I reach for the straps of my dress.
“You know…” I murmur, running my hands deliberately slowly down my sides, savoring the way his stormy gaze tracks every single movement. “I really do like this dress.”
Valentino’s jaw tenses.
“So do I. That’s why I haven’t ripped it off you yet.”
My cheeks burn, but I’m past the point of acting shy now.
I first give him a little tease, playing with the straps of my dress, but not fully taking them off.
The way that his eyes are fixed on me makes me feel like I’m the only person in the world. And instead of making me nervous, it instills a confidence in me that I’ve never had before.
He makes me feel sexy.
I slide my hand up my thigh, still over my dress and then twirl so that he can get a view of my ass still inside this dress. I bend over and make it a point to come back up as slowly as I possibly can.
“Shit,” he groans, causing a smirk to form on my face.
I push him gently onto the bed, making him lie back, his eyes dark with desire.
With deliberate slowness, I straddle his waist, my dress riding up exposing my lace-covered thighs.
"You're all mine now," I whisper, feeling my voice laced with power and seduction.
Valentino's breath hitches as he gazes up at me, his body tense.
Leaning down, I trail kisses along his neck.
My hands roam freely, unbuttoning his shirt, exposing his muscular chest, and running my fingers through the light trail of hair that leads downward.
I plant kisses along his hard length outlined through his pants, my lips and tongue leaving a trail of fire.
"Layla," he groans, his hands gripping the bed sheets. "You're driving me crazy."
“I want to taste every inch of you,” I growl, just to drive him wild with pleasure.
Unbuckling his belt, I slide down his zipper, and free his straining erection.
I pause, admiring the sight of him, his body taut and ready. I run my fingers along his length, feeling his throbbing need.
He lets out a labored hiss.
"You like being at my mercy, don't you?" I keep my voice low and sultry.
Valentino's eyes flutter shut, his hips slightly arching off the bed.
"Yes," he breathes, his voice hoarse with desire. "Fuck, Layla, I need you."
With a wicked smile, I lower my head, my long hair cascading in between his thighs.
And with parted lips, and I take him into my mouth, tongue swirling around the head of his cock, tasting the salty sweetness of his precum.
I take my time, teasing him, sucking gently, then with increasing fervor.
Beneath me, Valentino’s body trembles.
"Oh god, Layla." His hips thrust upwards, seeking more.
My mouth works in a rhythmic motion, my hand stroking the length of him, matching his pace.
Having control over his pleasure is intoxicating. Knowing I’m the reason his body is tensing, his breath is coming in short, sharp pants… I love it.
I pull back, my hand tightening around him. I want him to cum on my mouth, but not yet. And maybe not tonight. I’m having too much fun.
Valentino's eyes fly open, his body taut as a bowstring.
"Fuck, I can't take much more," he pleads, his voice raw.
"You can take it," I assure him, my voice soft.
My free hand cups his balls, massaging them gently. They feel full in my hand, awaiting for a release.
"I want you to feel every moment." And with that, I take him back into my mouth, my pace increasing with my hand working in perfect harmony.
His body coils like a spring, ready to snap.
My hands grip his thighs, allowing me to take as much of him as I can until he hits the back of my throat.
Valentino throws his head back as I restrain myself from gagging on his dick.
I want to push him over the edge, to make him lose control.
Valentino's hips buck wildly, his hands grabbing my hair, guiding my rhythm.
"Oh, fuck, Layla, I'm gonna..." His words trailed off into a guttural moan.
Just as his cock starts to pulsate, I ease the pressure of my mouth, releasing him with a pop.
“Not yet,” I tease.
I sit back, admiring my work, a thick vein trails the underside of his shaft down to the base, his head glistening with my saliva.
“I need to fuck you now.” His words are precise, and his eyes are dark.
He makes a move to flip us back over so that I’m underneath him, but I stop him.
“Not tonight.”
For a second, his face falls but then, he realizes what I really meant as I climb on top of him and position my soaking entrance against his hard length.
We’ve never done it like this before, with me on top. But tonight, I feel sexier than I’ve had in ages, and I want to be the one in charge of his pleasure.
We both let out a ragged moan as I slide down his thick cock, my pussy clenching against him in a way that sends us both into a wave of pleasure.
I sink down until I’m balls deep.
“Fuck,” I breathe as I begin to rotate my hips. “Fuck, how the fuck is this so–”
“So good, baby,” he moans, hands now firmly grabbing the side of my hips to control my movements. “Keep going.”
I revel in the way he watches me like I’m his greatest temptation.
I grind my hips into him, as he fills me to the hilt.
I’m so close to finishing. The way that this man has been able to make me cum faster than anyone else needs to be studied.
Our eyes lock together, and I know we both don’t want this to be over just yet.
He tries to pull back as he reaches his climax, but I can’t help gripping him tighter.
I want to milk every last drop as he fills me. I need to feel him.
I collapse on top of him, as we’ve both reached our finish at the same time.
We stay like this for what feels like an hour as we come down from our orgasms.
I pull out slightly releasing his still firm cock, our juices dripping out from my pussy.
“Fuck, I didn’t mean to cum in you,” he stammers. “But I’m clean, FYI.”
“And I’m on the pill.” Because as much as I love Vincent, there is no way I’m ready to go through something like that again.
Hours later, the room is warm and quiet, the remnants of our tangled bodies and breathless moans still lingering in the air.
The sheets are a mess, our limbs lazily intertwined beneath the blankets.
Valentino reaches over and switches on the AC, letting the cool air wash over our heated skin.
He exhales, pulling me against his broad, solid chest. His arm drapes possessively around my waist, fingers tracing absentminded circles on my hip.
I should move away.
I should put some distance between us.
But I don’t.
Instead, I find myself settling against him, melting into the warmth of his body like I belong there.
He lets out a sleepy chuckle, his lips brushing against my temple.
“I could get used to this,” he mutters, voice thick with exhaustion.
I don’t respond.
Because the truth is, I could too.
And that terrifies me.
I glance up at him, my heart pounding too hard, too fast.
In the dim glow of the moonlight, his features are softer, free of their usual arrogance and sharp edges.
He looks peaceful.
Safe.
And for the first time in a long time, I’m at peace too.
I swallow hard, my chest tightening with something dangerously close to longing.
I’m falling for him.
And it might already be too late to stop.