Chapter Sixteen
Sixteen
LAILA
I settle back into the pink-and-blue-striped bedspread, raising my arms above me as James reaches down and pulls up the hem of my sweater, removing it and my bra. Cool air flows across my breasts as I’m bare and exposed, and I shiver, more from anticipation than anything else. His strong hands begin to play over the soft skin of my belly, his fingers dance across my rib cage until they reach my breasts.
He pauses for a beat, and I look up at him, raw desire in his eyes.
“Please,” I breathe, and he doesn’t need to be asked twice.
He kisses me. A soft yet hard kiss, his mouth covering mine with sweet urgency. His tongue enters my mouth, and he’s exploring me, touching me, tasting me even as I taste him. We can’t seem to get enough of each other, and I’m losing my breath as I lose myself to this kiss, to the feeling of being so delicately devoured. My hand reaches up to his face and I hold him, pull him closer to me, both of us savoring the feeling of the other.
Then he breaks away, already out of breath, his eyes searching mine in a wild haze of lust before he leans down, his mouth covering my breast, and I arch my back, offering myself up to him. His tongue swirls around my nipple, and I moan, my fingers tangling in his hair. I can feel his smile against my skin, and then his teeth scrape gently over my nipple, making me gasp.
The sensations are overwhelming, and I writhe beneath him, wanting more, needing him closer. I want to drown in him; I want him to erase all the pain inside me, the hurt I’ve buried deep down since I was a child, all of which has risen to the surface, threatening to shatter me into a million pieces. If I’m going to collapse, if I’m going to feel obliterated to my core, then I want James to be the one to do it. I want him to fuck the soul out of me until I feel nothing but him.
“Laila love,” he whispers to me, bringing his mouth up to my neck, causing lightning strikes along my spine. “Tell me what you need from me.”
“I need to feel,” I manage to say. “I need to feel you and only you. Nothing else.”
“Then I will make you feel me,” he says roughly. He kisses me, his mouth claiming mine in a brutal, desperate kiss that leaves me breathless. He pulls away, his forehead resting against mine, and I’m panting and bereft, my body aching for him. His eyes search mine, and he whispers thickly, “I will make you feel everything. I’m going to make you come so hard you’ll see stars.”
I believe him.
I reach down and unzip my jeans, and he helps me wriggle out of them and my underwear until I’m totally naked. If it were any other time I might have felt insecure about being with him like this—I’ve gained quite a bit of weight since we were last together—but right now I don’t care much about anything. To be worried about something like belly rolls or cellulite seems trivial and pointless when you realize how little it matters in the grand scheme of life.
With an appreciative, molten look in his eyes as he appraises my naked body, his hand slides down my belly, his fingers slipping between my legs, and then he kisses me deep again, his tongue sliding against mine, and I moan into his mouth as his fingers enter me. I’m wet and ready, and he sinks into me easily, his fingers moving in and out of me as his thumb circles my clit. I cry out, the pleasure intense and instantaneous. I arch my back, my hands fisted in the sheets as he increases the pressure, and I feel myself spiraling out of control. I’m so close, so goddamn close to losing myself to him, and then he slides two fingers inside me and I shatter, the orgasm ripping through me with quick and brutal force. I cry out, my body writhing beneath his, and he doesn’t let up, prolonging my pleasure until I’m a quivering mess. There’s a locked box of emotions just below the surface, and I’m scared that he might just have the key.
“I know that wasn’t enough,” he says, and he starts moving down my body, wet kisses trailing over my stomach. I manage to raise my head to meet his eyes as they glint with hunger. His mouth moves lower, never breaking eye contact, and he parts my legs wider with his large hands. A wicked grin curls his lips, and he lowers his head. I moan loudly as his lips brush against my clit, my head going back. I’m so sensitive after my orgasm that it only takes a few strokes of his tongue before I’m moaning and begging for more. There’s always so much begging with him.
“Does that feel good, love?” he asks hoarsely, placing a kiss on my inner thigh, his breath hot. “Should I keep going?”
I can’t answer, I’m too lost in the pleasure, but he doesn’t need an answer. He knows what I want. He knows me so well. His tongue swirls around my clit, and I shatter again, crying out as the pleasure washes over me in waves. I’m trembling, my body weak and pliant as he keeps licking me, savoring me with lips and mouth and tongue, until I feel close to coming, the tension coiling up inside me like a snake. I’m crying out, unable to control myself, and then he plunges two fingers inside me and I come apart, the pleasure so intense I nearly black out.
“Jesus, James,” I manage to say, my voice hoarse and raw. “Oh god.”
The orgasm flows through me, a golden fire licking through my veins. My eyes are closed, but I can see bright colors behind my eyelids like a rainbow. I’m moaning and crying out his name, and it’s both beautiful and torturous.
James is still between my legs, his mouth latched on to my clit, drawing on it with lips and teeth, his big hands cupping my ass, lifting me up to his sucking mouth until I nearly beg for him to stop.
Finally he pulls back. He doesn’t say a word, he just brings his fingers out of me and shoves them into his mouth, savoring me, and I can’t help but stare, my breath catching. He’s staring at me, his gaze hot and dangerous, and I feel myself growing wet again.
He moves up to kiss me, his lips seeking mine out so that I can taste myself.
“You’re so beautiful, Laila,” he murmurs, his fingers tracing over my cheek. “So bloody beautiful.”
He kisses me again, and I can feel his smile against my lips. I’m boneless, completely spent, and I can only lie there and let him kiss me and touch me. I’m in danger of falling for him, and I know I should be scared, but I can’t bring myself to care. I’m safe with him. I know I am.
“Come on,” he says, moving over me. He slips an arm underneath my waist and flips me over so I’m on my stomach. I try to roll over, wanting to see him as he fucks me, but he pins me to the bed, laughter in his voice. “I’m not done with you yet.” He rests a hand on my waist, tilting my hips up so I’m on my knees and my ass exposed to him.
He lines up behind me, and then I feel the head of his cock pressing against me and I moan, arching my back, but he doesn’t enter me yet.
“Tell me what you want, Laila.” He leans forward and breathes into my ear.
“I want you,” I say, my body aching with need. I’m still trembling from the orgasms he’s given me, but I still want him inside me. I want him to pleasure me again and again and again. Put me out of my mind.
He teases me, rubbing the tip of his cock along my entrance, and I cry out.
“Please, James.”
“Tell me what you want, Laila.”
“Fuck me. Make me forget.”
“I’m going to fuck you,” he agrees. “I’m going to fuck you until you can’t think, can’t feel anything but me.”
The blunt tip of his cock presses against my entrance, and I wriggle my ass toward him, wanting him so badly.
But then he pulls back. “Just a minute,” he whispers, and I know he’s looking for a condom. I keep myself spread for him as he kneels up and slips one on, watching him over my shoulder, my mouth parted.
I feel him move back over me, and then he sinks into me, a deep groan escaping his lips as he fills me up, taking his time pushing inside me in a long, slow slide. I gasp and then moan, the sensation of his cock filling me up, stretching me out and making me feel complete. It’s so overwhelming that I close my eyes, reveling in it, feeling his muscles bunch against me as he pulls back and thrusts forward again, slamming back into me, and I gasp, my head falling, the pleasure so sharp and sweet it makes me gasp. His hands are on my hips, holding me in place as he pumps into me, his cock hitting just the right spot, sending shock waves of pleasure through me.
“Jesus, Laila,” he says, his voice strained. “You feel so good.”
My legs are trembling, my ass pushed up in the air as he fucks me, and I can’t stop thinking about how much I want him. I want him to ruin me, to destroy me, to make me completely his.
“Look at me,” he whispers, his hand cupping my cheek, turning my chin to the side so I can see him. His shaft moves in and out of me so slowly, his eyes burning into mine. “Look at me, Laila.”
I open my eyes, my lips parting as he continues to fuck me. His eyes never leave mine, and I feel his cock moving inside me, claiming me as his. I’m helpless beneath him, and the more he fucks me, the more I want him. The pleasure is so acute, so sharp, that it hurts, and I know we’ll never go back to what we were before. All these weeks have been leading up to this moment, to where we finally give in to each other. It was always inevitable.
We were always inevitable.
He picks up his pace, his cock pounding into me, his grip on my hips punishing. I’m crying out, my head falling forward, and he leans down so I can feel his hot breath on my neck as he fucks me.
“You’re going to come for me again, aren’t you, love?” he whispers, his lips moving over my skin, his fingers slipping between my legs until they find my clit.
“Please,” I whimper. “Please, James.”
He growls and slams into me, one big hand tight on my hips.
“That’s it, love,” he murmurs, kissing my neck. “Give it all to me.”
I am. I’m giving it all to him. Everything I have right now is his to take, and I can only hope I can trust him with it this time.
“Oh god,” he says through a groan, thrusting up deeper, his skin slapping against me. “You feel so good wrapped around me.”
“Yes,” I moan, my vision going blurry, my body on fire. It’s too much, too intense. “Fuck.”
“Come on, love. Come on my cock.”
He’s fucking me faster now, his hips slamming into mine, his cock so deep inside me I’m sure I’ll feel him tomorrow.
He brings his mouth to my ear, his breath hot against my skin as he whispers, “Come for me, Laila.”
He knows all the right things to say.
I can feel his cock rubbing against my G-spot, and with a couple of hard thrusts, I’m done for. Pleasure rips through me, a firestorm of heat and light, and I can’t stop myself from coming, the orgasm ripping through me like a hurricane hell-bent on destroying everything in its path.
I hear him cry out my name, and the knowledge that he’s coming for me sends me over the edge again, pleasure pulsing through me, my pussy clenching around his cock, my body shaking, unraveling, his name like a prayer on my lips.
He’s still inside me, his cock twitching, when he falls on top of me, and I can feel his heart pounding against my back. He wraps his arms around me, kissing my neck, his lips moving over my skin, and I’m lost in a sea of pleasure while he pulls out, leaving me shaking and bereft.
I collapse onto my stomach and look at him. He’s lying on his side, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath. He looks at me, and I see the satiety fade from his eyes, quickly replaced with concern.
“Are you okay?” he whispers, reaching forward to cup my face, his palm damp and warm with sweat.
I try to swallow, tears springing to my eyes, my heart sinking deeper and deeper until I’m not sure how I’ll ever rescue it again. “I don’t think I’ll ever be okay again,” I whisper, my eyes closing, my tears spilling over my cheeks. “I am so broken.”
He doesn’t say anything, just gathers me into his arms and holds me close, letting me cry until I have nothing left. And then he kisses me, his lips soft and gentle on mine, and I know that even though I’m broken, I’m not alone.
At least not at this moment.
“Laila love,” he whispers to me, stroking my hair. “You’re not broken. You’re just a little bruised. We all are.”
“It hurts more than I can bear,” I manage to say, closing my eyes. “I thought because I’ve been through this before, when I lost my parents, that I would know what to expect. I thought because my grandmother was old, that she had dementia and we knew this end would one day come, that it would make all of this easier. That I could handle it. But I can’t. I can’t handle it at all,” I sob into him. “It hurts so much.”
He holds me even tighter. Time passes, but whether it’s passing fast or slowly, I don’t know. I feel the world has condensed itself into this room and there’s nothing else out there for me.
Just James.
Someone I’m falling for, the man I’m letting in past all the guards and walls, into my inner courtyard where the real me resides. The irony that he’s the last person I trust isn’t lost on me.
I’ve almost fallen asleep when I hear him say faintly, “I’m so sorry.”
I open my eyes, my vision blurry from tears and my eyes sore from crying, not sure what he could be sorry for. After all, it’s not like he lost his grandmother.
“I’m sorry,” he repeats, pulling back to look at me with those intense eyes. “I’m so sorry.”
My breath catches in my throat. “What are you sorry for?”
He doesn’t answer me, just keeps stroking my hair, his eyes never leaving mine. What am I supposed to think after he says something like that? He looks away from me, and I reach out, taking his chin in my hand, his stubble rough against my skin.
“James,” I say, my voice trembling. “What are you sorry for?”
He looks me in the eye and says the words I’ve been waiting for since the day he came back.
“I’m sorry for hurting you.”
“Oh,” I whisper, feeling my heart swell a little. It doesn’t change things, but I’ll take what he’s giving me because I’ve learned that sometimes things need to be broken down into pieces if they’re going to be rebuilt.
If it’s even worth rebuilding. I’m still not sure on that. I’m not sure about anything in this world anymore.
“I didn’t want to hurt you. I never wanted to hurt you,” he says again, a look of anguish on his face.
“I know,” I say, cupping his cheek in my hand. “I know you didn’t. You were a mess; I was a mess…”
“I’m still a mess, Laila.”
I can’t tell if he’s warning me or not, but I nod. “I know that too.”
He sighs and kisses my palm before moving off the bed and pulling back the bedspread, both of us shuffling under it, a cold draft coming in from the thin windowpanes now that our body temperatures have returned to normal. “We better get some sleep,” he says. “Tomorrow is going to be hard.”
A lump builds in my throat as I rest on his chest and his arm goes around me. “I know.”
He kisses my forehead. “And even though it’s going to be hard, I’m going to be here with you, every step of the way.”
I give him a quick smile, appreciating the hell out of him.
He’s going to be by my side for now.
That’s going to have to be enough.