94. Clampetts Come to Town
CLAMPETTS COME TO TOWN
LIVY
He rubs a hand up and down my spine. “It was the best I could do on the fly.”
“You were protecting me.” It’s a statement, not a question. I pull back, looking back and forth between his eyes. Layton isn’t hard to read, and right now, he’s open. “Why?”
“You’re the most interesting woman I’ve ever met.” He shrugs. “Besides, I don’t mind watching you walk around our building in those little spandex outfits either.” And then as if he can’t help himself, he adds, “Would be a shame to lose that if I could help it.”
The relief I feel is palpable, and I smile, not able to help myself. “So, it’s just about the yoga pants?” I lift, ever so slowly, tentative at what comes next, and touch my lips to his.
They’re pillowy soft and give beneath mine, welcoming me. His thick arms wrap around me, caging me in an erotic dance of push and pull. I’m fairly certain that the control I have is only what he’s ceded to me. Layton Ranger isn’t one to allow anyone else to be in control.
His hands move over my back, down my butt, and back to my ribs. Abruptly, he lifts me to straddle him and leans back to study me.
His eyes follow his fingers as he teases under the swell of my breasts. He watches his long index finger as it trails from between them to my belly button and plays along the band of my yoga pants.
I am putty in his hands as he pulls my torso to him and sucks a nipple through the fabric of my sports bra.
“Pixie, I want to fuck you. I can only imagine your tight cunt wrapped around me.”
My face flames. No one has ever spoken to me this way. It’s carnal. Raw. So sexy.
Before I can reply, though, he continues, “But tonight is not the night for that.”
I don’t know what my face says, but I don’t want him to see it, so I look away, avoiding his gaze. My body flushes as embarrassment takes hold. I’m so tired of not being enough for any-freaking-body, even if it’s just a casual lay.
“Gotta say, the disappointment on your face makes my fucking day. Do you want my cock as much as I want to give it to you?” His thumb and forefinger take my chin and turn my face to his full on. “Why are you hiding from me?”
I shrug, not trusting my voice to respond.
He waits. The pause is so long that I want to fill the awkward silence. He must not feel the same need because he looks at me. He’s holding my gaze, sitting quietly. It’s a weird intimacy, like there’s no need to rush to fill the void.
“No one’s ever spoken to me like that.”
“No one’s ever told you how beautiful you are? How good you feel? You’ve never had anyone tell you how they want to make you feel?”
I shake my head, as much as I’m able with my chin still in his fingers.
He winks. “Happy to be your first, Pix. I’m looking forward to exploring more of those firsts with you.”
I attempt to climb off of him, but he cages me in place by his arms.
“Not yet.”
“Why do you, um, not want to, er—?” I wish I didn’t sound like an inexperienced fourteen-year-old.
His megawatt grin splits his face. “Can’t say the words? Come on, try. For me…” He’s practically cooing at me.
“Do you always get your way, Layton?”
“We’ll see.” His eyebrows rise and fall. “Now say the words.”
I shake my head.
“Then tell me what you’d like to do to me.”
“I haven’t thought about it.”
“Is that true? You haven’t once thought about me? Or what we could be like together? Or my body over yours? Inside yours? You’ve never daydreamed about my cock so deep in you that it marks you from the inside out?”
If I had to bet, I’d say my eyes are huge, and my face is crimson. It must say more than that because he continues with his correct assumption.
“So you have thought about me.” Again, it’s a statement, not a question. “Do tell.”
When I stare, unable to hide, unable to escape, he whispers, “Be brave, Livy.”
Ugh. Fine.
“I don’t often do casual. I don’t really do serious anymore, either. But good sex? I’d take that.”
“Good sex?” He mulls the words as if he’s just eaten something that tastes bad. “Good. Sex. Have you never had great sex?”
I shrug.
“Well, well, well. That might as well be a red cape waved in front of a bull. And I’m the bull, Livy.
Make no mistake. You just dared me to make you feel electricity coursing through your veins.
And your pussy. Do you like to be eaten, baby?
Do you like to be feasted on? What happens if I tongue fuck you right now? Do you want to come on my tongue?”
Shyly, I nod. I want to be brash and tell him what I want and don’t want, but I’m flabbergasted at his frank words.
He stands, wraps my legs around his hips, and points down the hall. “Which one?”
“The one at the end.” I dropped my suitcase there before heading to the beach. He lays me on the bed, his cock long and hard at my center.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful.” He stares at me lying below him and trails kisses from below my ear—a place that sends me to the stars—to my collarbone.
He lifts my bra, pushing it under my armpits, exposing my breasts.
He massages and kisses one, sucking deep and hard before leaving it for the other.
He pinches the first, pleasure mixed with just a hint of pain, leaving it warm, tingling, and desperate for more.
“Oh my God, Layton.”
“Keep calling my name just like that.”
Still sucking me hard, he strips my pants down my hips and tugs them off. His huge hands are everywhere. His fingers trail my ribs, over my stomach, down the outside of my thighs, and back up the inside, spreading my knees wide.
“Keep those knees wide like a good girl.”
He bites my nipple as he goes back to the first to do the same. His hands all the while exploring me… there. Stroking, parting, dancing on my clit, making me writhe.
I squirm as he teases, never giving me what I want. I moan when one finger enters deep, curling, toying with me. He spreads my wetness up and down my center.
“Did I do this, baby?”
I don’t respond, lost in pleasure.
A quick pinch at my clit shoots electricity through my core and reminds me of who I’m with.
“Answer me, Livy. Is all this for me?”
I reach for him. “Yes.”
“You’re this wet wanting my tongue?”
I nod.
“Tell me.” He’s firm. Authoritative. Definitely in charge.
“I want your tongue, Layton. And your fingers.”
“All you had to do was ask.”
With a devious grin, he trails kisses down my belly until his tongue is there.
He’s feasting, swiping, drinking deep. His tongue is wide and hot and licks up my center before sucking on my clit.
His fingers move. They enter me, toying with that spot deep inside that I fear.
The one that can make me shatter in ways I can never be made whole again.
He leaves my clit when I’m so close and presses his hot tongue where only his fingers have been.
“I’m close. I’m close.”
He hums, and I almost come unglued.
“Layton. Make me come, please.”
“I like that please, Pix.”
All at once, he’s everywhere. He’s breached where no one else has ever been, a lone finger playing, rubbing, moving in a way that the pressure building in my core threatens to detonate. Two long fingers enter me, finding my G-spot, pumping, focusing on where the nerves collect.
Hunger swells, and sensation overwhelms me.
He sucks on my clit so hard I see stars, and I scream.
“Oh shit. Oh God. It’s too much.” My body fights against the pleasure that overtakes it, only to succumb to Layton’s touches, and convulses, spasming around his fingers, tightening to expel him and pull him closer at the same time. “Oh God. Oh God. Layton. Oh God.”
“Again.” His one-word reply scares me.
“I can’t. It’s… too much. I’ll die.”
But he’s not listening. He’s adding fingers where I want his cock, and he hums and sucks my clit until the second orgasm crests, crashing on the first.
The throbbing and pulsing in my core are a combination of hunger and satisfaction, desire and fulfillment, a slow throbbing of ultimate pleasure.
I’m wrung out with exhaustion and relaxation.
“That was… Um— I…”
Layton’s eyes peek at me from between my thighs. A mischievous grin plays on his lips before he leans forward and kisses my hip bone.
One chaste kiss after Layton Ranger has claimed every place on my body with his tongue, lips, and fingers. It is the perfect analogy for the man I’m coming to know.
The laugh that springs from me is weak, but real nonetheless.
“That was, um, what? Enough to make you swear?” He climbs over me, not between my parted legs, but outside them. Above me. Surrounding me.
“I didn’t.”
“Oh, but you did, Pix.” His grin is wide, and my arousal still glistens on his chin. He looks away as if trying to remember. When his eyes hit mine again, they’re mischievous. “I believe you said shit,” he mouths the word like a stage whisper. “And then you called me a god.”
“I did not.”
“Don’t ruin it for me.” He shakes his head. “I know what I heard. You can’t convince me otherwise.”
Playful Layton may be my favorite.
“You taste like a dream. I may be addicted, you know. Going to need another hit of that sweet pussy sooner rather than later.”
His chocolate-brown eyes hold mine as he waits.
“Well, I mean. If you must, you must.”
He throws his head back and laughs, looming large above me.
His corded tan arms bracket the sides of my body.
I extend a hand and rub my fingers along his defined biceps, cut triceps, shredded forearms that ripple from elbow to wrist. My eyes follow my fingers, playing along the grooves of his arms until a growl snaps me back.
His eyes are hungry and wild when I meet them. His mouth crashes on mine, claiming it.
Claiming me.
His growls mix with my moans, and it’s not long before he rolls, pulling me atop his body, his hot cock at my entrance, still covered in track pants. Only an elastic band separates me from it, and I reach down, stroking his shaft. He thrusts into my hand.
In a moment of vulnerability, I ask, “Why not?”