Taking the Heat

Page 5

Layla’s tongue swirled around the sensitive crest, making his teeth grind. His spine was rigid with the need to come, his stomach so taut he felt like he couldn’t move. Shit, he didn’t want to move. If he could hang on to the edge forever, so damn ready but still able to hold off, he would. There was nothing in the world like the pleasure she could give him or the love he felt in every touch, kiss, and moan she gave up to him.
“So good.” He groaned. “You suck me so fucking good . . .”
Her fingers returned between his parted legs, once again teasing the tight ring of muscle, her touch now slickened with what he quickly realized was the missing lube. Her head rose and fell faster, her mouth working his aching cock in what he was sure was a deliberate attempt to distract him from the pressure for entry she was applying.
“Layla, baby, what are you doing?”
She released him with a pop. “You bought the lube; you can’t tell me you didn’t want some anal play.”
She knew damn well his ass wasn’t what he’d had in mind, just as he knew that this was his punishment for excessive optimism in buying the lube to begin with. Neither of which mattered, because he’d always give Layla anything she needed.
Brian pushed out, as he’d taught her to do when accepting his cock in her rear, and the slim tip of one finger slipped inside him. Instantly, sweat misted his skin. He forced himself to relax, to give her no resistance while she explored a new aspect of their lovemaking.
Chest heaving, he absorbed the feeling of penetration and the vulnerability that came with it. Layla took his cock in her mouth again, sucking the head with delicate pulls, her finger pulling out and then pushing back in.
“Ah, Christ.” His neck corded tight with strain. His thighs began to quiver.
He gasped when she pushed a second finger inside him, the slight burn sending a violent shudder through his frame. She rose to her knees, her hair falling over his hips, her mouth sucking in a greedy, demanding tempo. Her fingers moved in and out, fucking his ass.
“Damn it, Layla. You’re shredding me.” The shock and instinctive recoil he felt was tempered because it was Layla who touched him. She was already so deep inside him, so much a part of him, that ceding the intimacy to her was a natural extension of that connection. It also felt surprisingly good. Without conscious thought, both of his knees fell wide, encouraging more forceful thrusts of her hand.
“I’m going to kill whoever taught you this,” he bit out. “String him up and castrate the motherfucker. Ah . . . shit, baby. I’m gonna come. Slow down.”
The sounds filling the room—her vibrating moans and his tortured growls, the voracious suckling and the rhythmic thudding connection of her knuckles to the lower curve of his buttocks—were driving him insane. His dick was so hard it hurt, his balls drawn up tight and full. She owned him, possessed him completely, and he felt his surrender burn through him like a fever.
“I’m gonna come hard,” he warned hoarsely. “Ease up, baby. Now. Ah . . . fuck! ”
She’d found his prostate. Rubbing the gland swift and hard, she threw him over the edge.
Mindless with the savage, wrenching pleasure, Brian cried out and climaxed violently, his hands in her hair, his hips bucking. His head slammed back into the pillows, his eyes and jaw squeezed shut, his spine so stiff he thought it might break.
He pumped her mouth full and couldn’t stop, years of pent-up lust and longing exploding from his aching dick with a force that felt ripped from his vitals. Her hungry moans made his head thrash; her greedy swallows barely kept up. Her evil fingers still worked his ass, coaxing every drop from him until he collapsed into the mattress.
Dripping with sweat, he forced his cramped fingers to release their grip on her hair. She gave one last hard suck, then straightened. In a distant part of his ecstasy-dazed mind, he heard her pad to the bathroom and run the sink. That short distance between them was too much. He needed her next to him, with him, where he could hold on to her and never let go again.
“Leave the light on when you come out,” he said gruffly. “Keep the door cracked.”
Layla stepped into view a moment later, naked and flushed and so damn beautiful his heart thudded painfully in his chest. His dick twitched, a response that shouldn’t have been possible after the orgasm that just shattered him, but wasn’t totally unexpected with her. He’d been built for her, designed to please her. As long as her hot little body was hungry for cock, his body was ready to give it to her.
“Come here.” His arms lifted to embrace her. “Kiss me.”
She draped her body over his. The moment their lips touched, Brian rolled her beneath him, his head angling to form a tighter seal. His tongue thrust in slow and easy, stroking alongside hers, gliding over the soft recesses. She quivered and moaned, surrendering, her body going lax and pliant beneath his. He pushed a thigh between hers, finding her pussy slick and swollen. She’d always gotten off on his pleasure. Because she loved him. He knew she loved him still or she couldn’t have touched him so intimately. But that didn’t mean she loved him like she used to, with her heart and soul, and not just because of fond memories and the connection they’d shared through Jacob.
Lifting from her, he bent his head and caught a hard, peaked nipple in his mouth. He groaned at the feel of her on his tongue, the joy of having her close, the relief from the constant ache he’d lived with the last five years of his life.
Layla bit her lip and whimpered as Brian’s tongue curled around the tip of her breast. The vibrations of his groan sent ripples of sensation skipping across her nerves. She arched her spine, fisting her hands in the bottom sheet. His skin was hot and damp to the touch, his scent sifting through her mind like intoxicating smoke.
From the time she was sixteen, she’d been drawn to his clean masculine smell. Her primal attraction to him had ultimately exposed her love to her brother. Jacob had caught her sleeping in one of Brian’s shirts and he tore her a new one. It was Brian who told him to lay off, waving her thievery aside as if it was just aggravating kid sister shit. But he’d shot her a look that gave him away, a look that revealed a tempered hunger that made her ache. She’d known then that he was aware of her the way she wanted him to be—as a woman.
The next two years of waiting to turn eighteen had seemed endless. Just as the last five had.
“Brian.” She touched his broad shoulders, stroking over the lean flexing muscles with a soft hum of delight.
He bit lightly on her nipple, the tip elongated by his suckling. Nuzzling his way across her chest, he paid the same focused attention to her other breast, plumping the swollen flesh with his large callused hand. She was barely a handful, but he worshipped her tits as if they were the best pair on the planet.
“You’re so beautiful,” he praised, squeezing her hip before sliding lower. “I’ve dreamed of having you like this again . . . hungered for it until it gnawed at me. Your body is like food and water to me, Layla. I can’t live without it.”
She closed her eyes, fighting back tears and words she couldn’t afford to say.
When he slid between her thighs, she opened to him as he’d opened to her. Not just to take pleasure, but to give it. Knowing the sounds she made, her unrestrained reactions to his touch soothed something ferocious inside him.
Brian draped her leg over his shoulder, his lips kissing their way down her inner thigh to the tender flesh clenching in emptiness. She’d felt empty for so long. So lonely and alone.
She had walked away from him because she’d needed to be the one that left, instead of the one that was always left behind. She knew she couldn’t survive another official car pulling up to her house, carrying men bearing the news that someone else she loved was gone forever. She had cut the tie first, but she’d paid the price. She was still paying it.
He pressed a soft kiss to her clit, then massaged it with the pointed tip of his tongue.
“Later,” she said, staying him.
His head lifted, his gaze meeting hers. His smile was wolfish, but it faded. Whatever he saw on her face, he knew what she needed.
He came over her in a rippling display of gorgeously delineated biceps, washboard abs, and long thick cock. Biting her lip, she slung one leg over his hip, wanting him inside her more than she wanted to live to see another day. A soft sound escaped her when she felt the wide crest part the slick folds of her pussy.
“Shh, baby. I’ve got you.” Brian cupped her buttock, canting her slightly, making it easier for her to take the first hard inch.
Heat flared across skin, flushing her.
“So pretty,” he murmured, pushing deeper. “I love the way you blush when I slide into you. And, God . . . I fucking love the way you feel. So tight and hot. So slick. Your cunt gets so wet for me.”
She lifted her hips, needing faster and deeper. “Hurry.”
His gaze was on her face, tender and searching. “Didn’t we already talk about rushing?”
“I need you in me. You can slow down once you’re there.”
“You’re tight as a virgin, Layla.” He slid a fraction deeper, his eyes darkening as her pussy rippled greedily. “You feel like you did the first time I had you.”
Turning her head, she pressed her hot cheek into the cool pillowcase. She’d tried starting a relationship with someone else, gave it her best shot and stayed with great guys longer than she should have. But after a couple years of trying her damnedest, she’d given up. She was hurting men who didn’t deserve to be hurt and she was hurting herself.
Brian caught her face in both hands. “Open your eyes, Layla.”
Her neck arched as he withdrew a little bit, then pushed deeper.
“Look at me,” he coaxed. “Let me watch you take my cock.”
Her lids lifted. She watched him, too. Watched his skin tighten over his cheekbones, watched the pleasure cross his face like the sweetest agony. He worked into her with slow easy drives, holding her gaze as the connection deepened. Tugging him closer with her legs, Layla lifted as he bore down, the pleasure hot and drugging.