28. Reed
reed
. . .
Shopping with her went by in a fucking blur yesterday. She looked incredible in everything she tried on, and I can’t take it anymore.
I should’ve taken her somewhere else to dim the urge to touch her, to kiss her more, but, if I’m being honest, my restraint died a quick, violent death the moment she walked back into my bar looking like a ray of beautiful sunshine.
She’s straddling my lap on the couch, her knees hugging my hips like she belongs there.
My hands stay anchored to her waist, greedy for the feel of her warm skin beneath the thin shirt she stole from me.
Every kiss she gives me comes with a tiny sound in her throat she can’t hide, and each one punches my control clean out of me.
I pull her closer, my hands tentative at first, tracing the curve of her waist.
My burn scars itch beneath my shirt; the twisted skin on my body is a constant reminder of the grief I carry, of how they changed my image and made me hate myself.
I fucking hate them, but with Layla, I don’t hide them anymore.
She tilts her head as her lips brush mine in a soft kiss.
I cup her face, deepening the kiss as my tongue slides past her lips to intertwine with hers.
She moans softly, a sound that shoots straight to my cock, hardening beneath my sweats.
My hands roam lower, slipping under her shirt to feel the smooth heat of her skin. She arches into me, her fingers threading through my hair and pulling me closer.
She shifts her hips once, a careful roll that makes me moan into our kiss.
“Layla…”
“Reed,” she whispers against my lips, breathless, her cheeks flushed pink.
I pull back just enough to look at her, my heart pounding.
She’s so damn beautiful that I could stare at her for the rest of my days and be a happy man.
That’s all I want, life, with her in it.
“Is this too much?” I mumble, my voice rough but steady. I’m not the talkative type, but with her, words came easier. “We can stop if—”
“No,” she says quickly, her hand pressing against my chest, right over the scars hidden beneath. “I want this. I want you.”
Her lips find the edge of my jaw, kissing lower, slower, as she gently nips at my neck.
My hands slide up her back as my fingers tangle in her hair so I can feel every shaky breath she exhales against my throat.
She pulls back again, looking at me with her pretty blue eyes, honey and amber threads woven through them, as she stares, her pupils dilating.
“I want more, Reed.”
The world narrows to her. To now. To us.
But she still has one foot tangled in another life in LA. And me? I still don’t know if my scars are something she truly wants to see.
I murmur her name, a plea and a stall, “Layla…”
She lifts her hands to my face, forcing my gaze to meet hers. Her voice softens into something that strips me bare. “I want to see you. All of you.”
Fuck. No one has ever asked me that.
For a beat, fear claws at my ribs.
She must sense the hesitation, because she rests her forehead against mine and whispers, “I’m not going anywhere.”
I nod, trusting her.
Together, we reach for the hems of our shirts. Cotton slides over our skin as the fabric falls to the floor in two careless piles.
We stare, admiring each other’s bare skin.
Her eyes sweep over the scars etched across my neck, chest, arms, ribs, and side—raised, jagged reminders of everything I lost.
I brace for pity, expecting her to be disgusted and walk away.
She extends her hand as her fingertip traces a long scar near my collarbone, leaning in and pressing her lips to the beginning.
She maps me with her lips, every mark the fire left behind, giving back something I didn’t know I was missing.
“You survived this,” she says quietly against my skin. “Every inch of you is proof.”
I look away because the emotion hits quickly.
She takes my face in her hands again, grounding me with her stare. “You’re beautiful,” she whispers, so sure that it destroys every argument I’ve ever had about myself.
My touch trails up her sides again, watching goosebumps erupt across her skin, feeling each breath she takes.
I cup her jaw, guiding her mouth back to mine, kissing her unhurriedly, as if I’m finally letting myself believe her.
“You have no idea what you do to me,” I mumble against her lips. “Every part of you… I could spend a lifetime admiring.”
Her eyelashes flutter, her breath catching, and it’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.
She settles completely into my lap, her bare chest pressed against mine.
The sun spills over her bare shoulders, illuminating her as if she’s meant to be seen.
I let my hands follow the lines of her, the curve of her waist, the delicate strength of her back, worshipping quietly with every touch.
“You’re art,” I tell her. “And I’m not sure I deserve to look.”
She shakes her head as her thumb grazes my cheek. “You deserve someone who sees you. I do.”
Fuck.
My fingers move up, tracing along the delicate curve of her breasts.
Her nipples pebble in the cool air, fuck me.
I lean down, taking one into my mouth, gently sucking while my tongue flicks over the tip.
She gasps, her back arching as she clutches my shoulders.
I palm both her breasts, putting my face between them, alternating sides, sucking, nipping, and soothing her nipples with licks until she’s squirming in my lap as her hips grind against the bulge in my sweats.
My cock’s throbbing, aching to be free, but I want to take my time with her.
Guiding my lips back up to hers, I kiss her slowly, our tongues intertwining, allowing us to feel every pull and drag of our connection.
I pull her closer, as if she’s the only air I’ll ever need.
Her lips part as she whispers against mine, “I want you, Reed. Take me, please.”
I rest my forehead against hers, breathing her in.“If you want all of me,” I whisper, voice wrecked and honest, “you’ve got it, baby.”
Lifting her effortlessly, I give her ass a subtle squeeze as I carry her to the bedroom, laying her down on the rumpled sheets.
I watch her as she undresses completely, slipping off her pants and lace thong in one quick swoop, teasing me with her fingers as she rubs her clit in slow, sensual circles.
Swallowing hard, I make my way to her, covering her hand with mine, kissing her deeply, expressing my gratitude through touch.
Pulling back again, I admire her bare body; soft curves, smooth skin, her pussy already glistening with arousal as I part her thighs.
I pebble kisses along her throat, her tits, her tight stomach, before settling between her legs, my breath hot against her inner thigh. “I’m gonna taste you now, Layla,” I say, looking up to meet her gaze. “Is that okay?”
“Reed, wait,” she hesitates, running her fingers through my hair.
I’m just a breath away from her clit, drooling to get a taste, but I pull back, meeting her worried stare. “What is it, sunshine?”
“N—no one has ever gone down on me.”
What the fuck?
I stare at her, puzzled. What do you mean, a man hasn’t taken the time to pleasure her? Has her fiancé never done this?
I press a kiss to her lower abdomen, “Let me take care of you, baby.”
Her pulse jumps beneath my lips as I work my way lower, dragging my lips along the inside of her thigh.
She tastes faintly of honey, and I wouldn’t mind suffocating between her thighs.
A soft whimper escapes her as she slides her fingers through my hair, holding me there like she’s terrified I’ll change my mind.
“Easy, baby,” I murmur, kissing just above her sensitive spot. “I’m going to make you feel good.”
Her thighs tense around my shoulders as she draws a sharp breath.
Looking up at her, I meet her eyes over the curve of her body.
“You sure you trust me with this?” I ask.
“I trust you with everything.”
“If anything feels wrong, you tell me. We stop. No hesitation.”
She nods, breath shaking. “Yes… I promise.”
“Good girl,” I say before I can think better of it.
I press another kiss just above where her thighs meet, my breath a warm brush across her sensitive skin. My thumbs massage slow circles into her hips as I spread her open for me, watching her chest rise too fast.
She bites her lip, but I catch her chin, guiding her gaze back to mine. “No hiding from me,” I whisper. “I want to watch you enjoy this.”
She exhales, a light moan escaping past her lips.
Taking my glasses off and setting them on the floor, I bury my face between her thighs.
I start slow as my tongue licks up her sweet cunt, savoring her decadent taste.
She whimpers as her thighs tense, and I hook my arms under her knees, holding her open. “Breathe, baby,” I coax, my voice muffled against her sweet pussy. “Open up for me, sunshine.”
My tongue delves deeper, circling her clit with light flicks before gently sucking it between my lips.
Her hips buck, a cry escaping her, and I hum in approval, the vibration making her shiver.
“That’s it,” I murmur, pulling back just enough to speak. “Your pussy’s so responsive for me, baby. So wet and eager to be tasted.” I plunge my tongue inside her, fucking her with shallow thrusts, then return to her clit, lapping at it relentlessly.
I watch her face, adjusting my pace, sucking harder when she arches, easing off when she trembles too much. “Feel that?” I ask, sliding a finger along her entrance, teasing. “Gonna add a finger now. Push back against it, baby.”
Sliding one finger inside her tight cunt, her walls already clench around me.
She’s soaked, her juices coating my hand as I pump slowly, curling to hit her sweet spot that make her eyes roll back.
“Reed... oh God,” she pants, her grip in my hair tightening.
“You’re doing so well, baby,” I praise, adding a second finger. My mouth returns to her clit, sucking in time with my thrusts. Her thighs quiver around my head, her breath coming in short bursts. “Come for me, sunshine. Let go.”
“Reed!” she screams, arching her back off the bed, trembling under my hold.
Fuck, I love the way she says my name. I could listen to that sound forever.
Her pussy spasms around my fingers, flooding my mouth with her release as she cries out my name, her body trembling with each wave.