Her back bowed once again as he continued his ministrations. He wasn’t stopping, and her oversensitive clit throbbed. She shifted to close a leg, but it only served to pull the other wider.
“Come for me, Princess.” His words vibrated her insides.
“Wait,” she started, fearful of how her body would respond when she was silenced by another pull against her clit. This time, he didn’t loosen his lips. He continued to suck, and lick, and twirl, and push, and…
“Alistair!” she screamed. Her core clenched around his fingers, so tightly she throbbed. Her vision clouded, she could no longer hear the music in the room.
Her orgasm traveled up her stomach to her breasts, seeming to expel from her nipples. They throbbed in time with her excited heartbeat. Her skin prickled, her scalp burned. She thought for a moment she could feel each individual goosebump on her skin.
Hot tears rolled down her cheeks — she could smell the saltiness of them. She continued to cry out, nonsensical words between moans as her pussy clenched. All the while, Alistair never removing his mouth, continuing to gently lap at her, riding out the orgasm with her.
As the last aftershocks dissipated, her back fell against the table.
Alistair’s hand wrapped around the back of her neck, lifting her. His mouth found hers — her sweet saltiness still on his lips, but she didn’t care. She opened for him, allowing him to control her mouth the way he did her pussy. His lips were soft, yet firm, his tongue feeling every part of her.
His kiss was possessive while, somehow, simultaneously thanking her.
He ended with gentle kisses along her lips, chin, forehead and neck before gently placing her head back down.
Alistair shook, moving around the table to the towel warmer. A moment later, he placed the heated washcloth along her wet pussy.
“Is this too hot?” he asked.
“No, it’s perfect.”
He held it against her as he gently wiped the remnants of his mouth and her orgasm from her. When finished, he leaned down, gently kissing her soft mound. Truth be told, he didn’t want to move from this spot ever again. He wasn’t even sure how he managed to stop. She was … everything.
He’d never experienced a moment like this in all his life - and he hadn’t even been inside of her. His insides still trembled from the excitement, the connection. What. The. Fuck?
He untied her legs first, walking around, removing the cloth from the cabinet holding her arms. He rubbed them, circulating her blood to ensure she didn’t have pins and needles. He bent, leaving one last lingering kiss on her lips.
“When you’re ready, get dressed. I’ll be waiting,” he whispered against her lips. He knew if he didn’t leave the room now, he’d end up inside of her, something he didn’t think she was quite ready for.
To be honest, he wasn’t sure if he was quite ready for it either. Alistair had a suspicion if he ended up inside of her, he would never leave.
After quietly collecting her thoughts, Jayla stood, dressing herself and walking toward the door. There was a mirror against the wall she hadn’t noticed before; smoothing her hair, she smiled.
The bags under her eyes before the massage had all but disappeared. Her body was loose, and she struggled to walk. Just like he promised.
She bit her bottom lip, trying to keep a neutral face when a small mewl came from the other side of the door.
Tilting her head, she was sure she imagined it, until she heard the noise again. Opening the door, her small fluff ball waltzed to her calf, purring as he mulled around her legs.
“Rajah!” she called excitedly, lifting him into her arms. As she nuzzled his whiskers, a realization dawned on her.
Following the hallway into the main room, she found Alistair sitting on a large, gray couch, his back to her. A movie playing on a 70” television screen held his attention.
He’d finally gotten her to his home. “So, this is your place?” she asked, smiling.
Alistair turned. “Hello, again, Princess,” he said, beckoning her to join him.
Rajah in her arms, she walked around the back of the couch and sat down. Looking around the room, she nodded in appreciation of his interior design. The walls were a light slate gray, with white trim and molding. The natural wood floor made the room feel large and airy. The couch and loveseat were a light gray with blue pillows. A glass coffee table sat on top of a shaggy white rug.
Behind them, a white kitchen bar separated this room from the appliances — all stainless steel. To the right of the bar, a dining table against a row of windows sat, a bouquet of fresh flowers in the center.
Off to the right was a staircase leading to an upper floor.
“My bedroom,” he commented, reading her mind.
She turned, looking at him. “What about the room I was in?”
“Guest room. The guest bathroom is downstairs, and the main up by me. If you want a tour, I’ll show you around.”
She shrugged, unable to contain her smile.
He laughed. “And here I was, nervous I pushed you too far.”
She nodded. “Not too far. Just right.”
He opened his arms, allowing her to shift next to him. Head on his shoulder, legs over his lap, they watched the movie in silence. He played with her hair as they watched the end of the movie. It was such a small gesture, but the kind touch and intimate maneuver — monumental for her.
Rajah lay between them, purring contently. You’re not the only one, buddy.
A few hours later, and a second movie finished, Jayla stifled a yawn.
“Want to sleep here?” he asked, his expression hopeful. Looking down to Rajah, he added, “I know I’m not the only one who wants you to.”
“Where does he sleep?” she asked, stalling.
Alistair smiled. “With me.”
Jayla laughed at the image of strong, domineering Alistair, cuddled with their little fur ball. “Big, tough, Dom sleeps with a kitten?”
He quirked a brow. “Pussy. I sleep with a pussy.”
She shoved her shoulder into him, playfully. She opened her mouth to make a comment when he pulled her chin to face him, capturing her mouth with a tender kiss. He held her firm in his grip, a hand on each side of her face, and she’d never felt so secure in her life. The butterflies in her stomach she’d once felt fluttered again with excitement.
As they pulled apart, she smiled again. Taking a breath, she spoke her truth. “I want to … but not tonight. I just … I need time.”
He nodded, not an ounce of anger on his features. Nor disappointment. “When you’re ready. Until then—”
Placing her finger over his lips, she shushed him. Looking down and then back up, she quirked a brow. “He’d better be the only pussy you’re sleeping with tonight.”
Her jealousy surprised even her. To his credit, Alistair didn’t flinch. “The only one until yours is in my bed. And then not again until you’re tired of me.”
She tilted her head, her brows furrowing. Did he just… Her heart sped up at the admission, but didn’t know how to react. He may have been speaking off-the-cuff, not actually promising exclusivity. Especially when they hadn’t even talked about they yet.
Her lips parted to comment, then closed again, unable to form a coherent sentence.
“Don’t worry, Princess. I can be very patient.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Jayla accepted her hot chocolate from the barista and joined the other girls at the booth near the back corner of the coffee shop. She may have chickened out when Alistair asked her to spend the night, but she’d gone home and slept better than she had in ages.
Snow scooted over so Jayla could sit down beside her. “I was just catching everybody up on Evie’s condition. It’s kind of incredible, right?”
“She’s really still sleeping? What did the doctor say?” Sirena asked.
“Not much, according to Merry. Just to let her rest. She’s hooked up to monitors, and has an IV for fluids and nutrients, but she’s ju
st … sleeping.” Snow fiddled with her phone for a second. “Ah, here it is. Kleine Levin Syndrome. A neurological disorder classified by extreme bouts of sleep.”
Sirena whistled low. “Damn.”
“Merry said this happened before, right? She doesn’t, like, remember anything, does she? While she sleeps?” Jayla asked, almost jealous of Evie’s ability to sleep for days at a time.
“She said last time Evie remembered some dreams, but she had no idea how long she had been out. She thought she went to bed and woke up the next day. Apparently, when they were young, it happened on and off for like two years, and then just poof, stopped.”
“Weird,” Belle added. “But I am so glad she’s okay. And I am so glad Scarlett decided to stick around for a while,” she said to Snow. “We’ve been so busy, she’s been a real godsend.”
“Now, speaking of sleep,” Snow said turning her attentions to Jayla, “I thought for sure you’d be sleeping over at Alistair’s.”
The question caught Jayla off guard and instant color rose up her neck and across her cheeks.
Glancing up, Sirena, Belle, and Snow were all patiently staring at her.
“C’mon, Jayla, we want all the juicy details,” Belle exclaimed, bringing her latte to her lips.
Jayla rolled her eyes as she smiled. “Okay, so it was … it was … nice. Really nice.”
Belle laughed. “You sound like me when Aleks and I first hooked up.” She leaned forward, smiling. “Did you … ya know?”
“No! We just, uh…”
Snow wiggled her brows, causing Jayla to jokingly slap her on the arm. “Look at you all proud of yourself. Was that the plan the whole time?” she asked.
“Well, I mean, I hoped,” her friend answered, shrugging. Her eyes were alight with mischief.
Jayla took a breath. Filling the girls in on the motorcycle ride and the PG version of the massage was easy compared to trying to explain the last remnants of her reservations about getting into a relationship … or whatever this was … with him.
Snow already knew about her past, and Belle had probably guessed as much, but if she was going to let them into her life, she needed to tell them all of it. Jayla gave the quick lowlights of her life with Jeffrey, of spending the last five years on the run.
“I’m tired of letting my past dictate my present. Or future. I’m just nervous — like I said the other day, Snow, I don’t want to miss red flags.”
“Alistair is not like that … not at all. Aleksandr’s known him for years and is actually a really good judge of character,” Belle admitted.
Sirena nodded. “Yeah. Besides, Aleks does his own background on all his employees — if there were anything amiss, he would have picked it up.”
Belle snapped her head to Sirena. “What?”
“What, what?” Sirena asked back.
“Background checks? Did he do a background check on me?”
“Uh … no. I mean, he went to your bar in the beginning, but then once you came to the office he kinda just hired you. Sort of.” Sirena shrugged.
“You mean, coerced me to work for him … and then blackmailed me to live with him?” Belle laughed.
“Wait … what?” Snow asked, eyes wide.
“That’s a story for another day.” Belle turned to Jayla, changing the subject. “Okay, I admit. I’d seen some red flags in Aleks in the beginning — which were real, not just me being silly — but he was a good guy under it all and it worked itself out. Alistair … he doesn’t have red flags. He’s your honest-to-goodness good guy.”
“I have trouble believing in those,” Jayla admitted, taking a sip of hot chocolate.
“Well, believe in us, then,” Belle said, gesturing to the girls. “Besides, if he ever does anything that hurts you…” She paused, tilting her head, a suggestive smile on her lips. “Well, like, in a way you don’t want to be hurt … you have us now. I’ll gladly kick his ass. And then send my boyfriend on him.” She took a sip of her coffee while shaking her head. “Actually, Aleks might kill him if he ever hurt you. He feels a little protective over you since you talked about your apartment. Which, trust me, isn’t a bad thing.”
Sirena jumped in. “Not at all. ‘The Beast’ as a bodyguard is something every woman should have. Kotik here got it first.”
“Kotik?” Jayla asked at the foreign word.
“He calls me,” Belle raised her hand, mimicking claws, “his pussycat.” She laughed before turning serious once again. “The offer to live with us still stands.”
Pussycat. That was the word Jeffrey used for Jayla. Yet, Belle seemed to love it from Aleks. Guess the man makes all the difference, after all.
“Thank you,” Jayla responded, sincerely. “I’ll think about it, for real, okay?”
Taking another sip of hot chocolate, allowing the liquid to warm her, she looked around the table. Nodding with conviction, she asked, “So, let’s say I decide to … try this. With Alistair. How should I let him know?”
The girls smiled, Sirena wiggling excitedly in her chair. Looking directly at Jayla, she gave a slanted smile. It was the kind of smile that if she had been a man, they all would have recognized as trouble.
“Actually…” she said. “I have an idea.”
Jayla sat in the center of the stage floor, waiting for the music to start, the darkness around her helping to calm her nerves before her number.
She and Sirena had come to the club directly from breakfast to put Sirena’s idea into action. Jayla had to admit — it was perfect.
“Everything’s set,” Sirena had whispered in her ear before she had taken the stage. “He’s at the bar, at your eleven o’clock. Good luck!”
Dim purple ground lights and candles in the center of tables lit the room, allowing the patrons to see those near to them, but not much else. Belle’s a genius, she thought. The dim lighting all but forced the audience to give their full attention to the stage.
Servers walked the room taking orders, the glowing bracelets around their wrists always the same color as the stage lights, changing to match the performance.
Sirena was the designated DJ for the evening — making the surprise even better. The rest of the staff expected Jayla’s usual performance. Everyone would be getting a shock tonight.
Keeping the audience entertained with her quick wit, Sirena was the perfect cross between playful and sarcastic. “And now, boys and girls, we have a real treat. The sexy little minx, Ms. Dark Desires herself, otherwise known as Jayla, has prepared a hot little number for your viewing enjoyment. Hands above the table please — you can take care of it at home, boys.”
Smirking at the introduction, Jayla dipped her head to her knees. Seconds later, the first few bars of her chosen song began. As it did, the stage lights turned on her, the dim purple glow blinding for just an instant. Closing her eyes for the quickest of moments, she took a breath, moving her hand from her ankle up her leg, caressing her thigh.
With her microphone headset against her lips, she sang, arching her back as she did, allowing the sensual music to move her.
Looking around the audience, her eyes stopped at the bar, and locked on Alistair. Drink in hand, his forearm resting on his thigh — sexy as fuck.
Jayla chose the version of Sweet Dreams she liked the best — slower, darker, with a hint of danger. The vibe sultry and sexy. Just like Ali.
Eyes on him, turning to her knees, crawling forward, words flowed from her lips. The lyrics may have as well been written from her to him, eliciting the more sinister recesses of human desires — longing, need, pleasure … pain.
On her knees, her hips swaying, she trailed her hand up her side, against her neck, into her hair, pulling it back to expose her neck.
Alistair’s stare matched the darkness of the song. His jaw clenched tight, his glass firmly in his grip. Licking his lips, he leaned forward.
She imagined crawling up between his knees, her hands caressing his inner thighs as they worked their way up to his crotch, while his han
ds moved to her hair, directing her.
It was as if no one else was in the room. Her performance for him alone, never removing her eyes, gyrating just enough to force him to think of her on top of him, yet not enough to be lewd.
Opening her knees wider, resting back on her heels, presenting herself to him — albeit, covered by the leather corset dress gracing the tops of her thighs — she knew by the darkening of his facial expression that he picked up on the submissive position.
Standing, she walked around the stage as the instrumentals came in, continuing her slow dancing, moving her body sensually as her hands caressed her body, roving over her collarbone, the tops of her breasts.
Time to take the foreplay up a notch. When the instrumentals came back in between verses, she walked to the front of the stage, descending into the crowd, generating an onslaught of catcalls and clapping.
Weaving through the tables, she continued singing. Stopping at one table, she brushed her hand through one of the men’s hair, pulling him backwards as she sang to him, inches from his face. Looking up at Alistair, her heart skipped.
His eyes narrowing on her, as if challenging her to continue.
Turning again, she continued her motions, finding the lap of another man. She sat across him, arm around his neck as she leaned back, arching her back with the lyrics. When she felt a hardening under her thigh she shifted, bringing her face close to his as she kissed his cheek, getting up and turning to the bar again. The look on Alistair’s face was thick with possessiveness. And disapproval. Perfect.
The mere fact he was jealous of these strangers sent a flood of heat through her veins.
Walking back on stage, she sang the hook — blaring out the vocals in a near-moan as the tension between she and Alistair grew almost tangible. She changed the words subtly, not even sure Alistair knew the song to begin with, but making it about them. She refused to look anywhere but at him.
Finders Keepers (Fairy Tales After Dark Book 2) Page 17
