Chapter 15
LILA
I have a nice dream.
I’m lying on a beach. The water is hot. The sand is soft like butter. The edge of a dainty wave tickles my skin.
My first thought is that I fell asleep in the sun.
I wish I could wake up, but I can’t.
The water slides over my back, and I swat at it in my dream.
Then I hear Damon’s voice behind me.
“What did I tell you, Lila Skye?”
My dream gets whisked away as I push up with a gasp.
Standing next to the bed, Damon looks at me, his hands on his hips, his eyes tilted down.
“Did you just tickle me?” I ask, rubbing a hand over my sleepy eyes.
“Yes, I did.”
I look out the patio doors.
The sky is still dark, yet a splash of red and yellow grows at the horizon.
It must be early.
“What did you tickle me with?”
“Why do you want to know?’
“It felt like water.”
His eyes shift to the bottle of water on the nightstand.
I instantly bring my hand to my back. My skin is wet. Smiling I fall back into the pillow, my back turned to him, my rear exposed.
“You’re mean.”
“What did I tell you, Lila?”
His buckle clicks.
Smiling, I pull the covers up over my ass and speak.
He pulls them down to my thighs.
“You didn’t tell me when you’d come. I waited for you.”
The belt snakes through the loops before falling to the floor.
I glance over my shoulder as he removes his shirt. His fly is already open.
“Are you going to fuck me?” I ask with a smile.
“What do you think?”
Laughing, I turn to him and watch him strip out of his clothes.
His cock is hard. It juts out in the air.
“Wet it for me, please.”
That please at the end sounds like an order.
I flick my eyes up.
Should I tell him that I have zero experience taking a man into my mouth?
Should I tell him now or after I ran my teeth over his sensitive flesh? Keira warned me that most men hate when women do that.
Should I tell him that I have about as much experience as Henrietta has in her pinky when it comes to this?
I liked it when he punished me. I liked it because he couldn’t tell how my sex life looked before him.
Now?
I don’t know what to say.
He’ll figure me out eventually.
“Do you have a problem with this? You don’t like doing it?’
“I love doing it.”
The lie flies out of my mouth like a bird looking for freedom. How could I say such a stupid thing?
I know what I need to do. I know how to roll my lips and tongue. The question is, will he be able to tell that I have no real-life experience?
I don’t even know how a man feels against my mouth.
How he tastes, and all that.
I push myself toward him and wrap my fingers around him. He’s rock hard, and his shaft is warm. The veins are plump. The head is chiseled.
He’s well endowed, and his erection is mouthwatering, no pun intended.
I wish I could feel a trickle of excitement, but I’m so afraid that I’ll give myself away that all I can think of is how to get through the motions and pretend I’m not clueless.
‘Please don’t try to make it look like you’re some sort of expert,’ a voice whispers in my head, just as fearful and uncertain as I am.
I open my mouth, and there it goes. The premiere of my having my lips around his hard-on is here.
A celebration would be in order with fireworks and cheering.
I close my eyes while bobbing my head.
I’m so distracted by the thought that I forget to move my tongue.
It takes a second to adjust, suck on him, and use my tongue before I dare to open my eyes and look up.
He peers down with a lifted eyebrow. This must be the worst oral sex he’s ever had.
“You’ve never done this…” he murmurs.
Busted.
Oh, this moment is so awkward.
I shake my head with him in my mouth. Just when I was convinced I looked like a pro.
He wraps his fist around his erection, takes it out from my mouth, and gives it a few pumps.
“No problem. You’ll blow me every day from now on, until you become an expert.”
My mouth falls open in surprise, despite the humor in his voice.
“Don’t look at me like that. Turn around now.”
I slide to the other side and make room for him.
He pulls up behind me, peels off the covers, props himself on an elbow, runs his hand down my ass, and touches me between my legs.
Despite not thinking much about what we’re doing, I’m wet. I’m always wet when he’s around.
“Any particular reason you want me with my back to you?” I ask as he slides a finger into me and slowly strokes me.
“I like it that way.”
“What do you like about it?” I ask, noticing the urgency in his moves as he removes his finger, grabs his hard length and pushes it into me, filling me up.
I also make a note of how quickly we go through the motions. There’s no time for foreplay or small talk.
He rolls his hips, pushing himself deep into me.
I enjoy having his hard chest against my back, and his hand encircling my clit as he thrusts into me.
I’m still puzzled by why he doesn’t like to face me.
He brings his mouth to my shoulder and gently sinks his teeth into my skin, having absolute control over me.
He strokes my clit as firmly as he wants to.
He penetrates me as roughly or as slowly as he wants to. He controls my orgasm. And he controls me.
He breathes hotly over my neck.
“I like everything about it.”
Goosebumps spread over my skin.
I glance at him over my shoulder, my mouth sliding closer to his.
“You like me…” I say softly, experiencing pleasure.
“I thought we’d established that already.”
He stops rocking his hips as he strokes my clit and kisses me before he speaks.
“I’ll fuck you every night. Every night I’m in the house, and you’re in. Don’t you dare to sleep with other men, or I’ll kill them.”
I smile against his lips.
“You’re not my type, you know,” I say, amused by his threats, and he flashes a smile, rolling his hips again, pushing his hard length into me.
“Don’t play with fire, Lila Skye.”
“I’m not playing with fire. And it’s true. You won’t be around for long, and I need someone who wants to be with me.”
“You don’t know how long I’ll be around. Besides, it wouldn’t make a difference if I killed them.”
“True,” I say, smiling. “There’s a little problem, though. I don’t suppose we can make this official and no longer hide from your wife.”
He gets my brand of humor.
“It’s not wise to stir her up. You already know that.”
“Yet she doesn’t expect you to be faithful to her.”
He thrusts into me harder.
“I’m not sleeping with her. And no, she can’t make a claim on me in that way.”
“Yet she’s jealous.”
“She’s jealous of all females. Henrietta is very territorial.”
“Huh…”
“What?”
“Are you two having a marriage of convenience? And arranged marriage? A fake marriage?”
“None of the above.”
He locks my mouth, stopping me from asking more questions, as he firmly massages my clit while thrusting into me repeatedly before we hear noises outside.
Footsteps. A slammed door. A phone ringing.
It does nothing to him.
If anything, he fucks me with even more passion.
I like the danger, the unpredictability, the way he plunges into me. I like it so much that I don’t even realize how fast I’m moving toward having an orgasm.
Henrietta calls his name. She’s on the floor with us. I hope she’s not headed this way.
Weirdly, her presence means nothing to him.
Aware that I’m about to come, he takes his hand away from my clit and rams into me rapidly before we quietly reach our high, moaning and grunting.
A few seconds pass as he slows down and I writhe against his body.
This feels so good. The pulsations in my center. The tension in my abdomen. The longing.
I’m longing to have him again.
Unfortunately, he only plants a quick kiss on my cheek and pulls away.
Within moments, he’s dressed up, runs a confident hand over his fly, and moves his fingers through his hair.
Looking down, he makes sure his belt is fastened and his clothes look sharp.
“Henrietta and I will travel this week,” he announces dryly. “Please don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone.”
Propped back on my hands, I study him. His eyes slide to my boobs.
“Stupid like what?”
“Like learning how to blow a man on someone else.”
I grin, smug.
“Then don’t let me be alone for long.”
“Don’t push it, beautiful trouble, or I’ll confine you to the basement and have my men guard the door around the clock.”
“No, no. Please don’t do that.”
“That’s what I thought.”
He inches closer to the bed, and I lift an arm to wrap it around his neck while he lowers his mouth to mine.
He leaves a kiss on my lips.
“I’ll leave now. If anything happens in the house, Livia can help you. Feel at home. It might be yours one day,” he says and gives me a soft wink.
I turn to stone, with my eyes wide and my mouth open.
The effect his words have on me seems to amuse him as he walks around the bed and heads to the door.
Our eyes stay locked a little longer before he walks out and I fall back into the pillows.
I’d love to spend more time with him and ignore the woman talking to him in the corridor, but what if she saw him walk out of my room?
A different thought spins in my head.
He must be fucking with me.
He must or his words wouldn’t make much sense.
He must be one of those men who know how to hook a woman with sweet promises, grand gestures, and words that mean nothing in the end.
Why did he have to say that to me?
He was so casual about it as if what he said was real.
As if his home could be mine.
I roll to my side, smiling.
He is fucking with me.
He doesn’t want me to go out with another man. I get that. I don’t want to go out with another man, either, but he and I aren’t exactly dating. Not to mention that he’s married.
He is Henrietta’s husband.
A bad husband at that.
Bad, bad husband.
I want to be angry with him, but it’s impossible. I still feel the aftershocks of my first orgasm from penetration alone, and man, does it feel good, or what?