by Caisey Quinn
“Strip.” The command comes out harsher than I mean for it to, but my brave girl grins up at me. Her slender arms cross in front of her body as she lifts the hem of her shirt up and over her head. Her black lacy bra suggests to me that she wants this, planned for it even before coming to my game. For a second, I’m back in the stadium, looking up at her as the field lights shine all around my glowing angel. And she gives me that look, the secret one that says I’m the only one who knows what she feels like from the inside, in my mouth, and tight around my dick.
I want to always be the only one.
“Slower,” I command, hoping the damn milkshake doesn’t melt too much.
Layla unbuttons her jeans and raises a brow at me. I nod, because yes, now she’s going slowly enough. Once her jeans are down, she kicks them to the side, and I take in her matching lace panties. Every cell in my body screams at me to hit my knees, pull that tiny scrap of fabric aside, and plunge my tongue into her wetness.
“All of it, baby. I want to see all of you.”
Layla’s cheeks darken, and I keep my eyes on hers as she reaches back to unhook her bra. It falls to the floor, and my eyes fall to her perfectly supple breasts and the tight pink nipples protruding in my direction. Again, my tongue presses behind my teeth, aching to taste her.
“Panties,” I practically growl at her.
My chest heaves hard because I’m running out of willpower here. Her skin begs to be touched, licked, bitten. I have the strangest urge to mark her. Claim her. Eying me with her wary gaze, as if she can read my crazed thoughts, Layla bends at the waist and slides her panties down her thighs, past her knees, and lets them drop to her ankles.
“Lie down. On your back.” She blinks rapidly but does as I say.
My cock punches against the zipper of my jeans, and I’m done waiting. Setting the milkshake down on the night table, I undress quickly, leaving my boxer briefs on so I don’t rush things. Climbing on top of Layla, I take a moment to stare down at her perfect body. Perfect face.
I’m dirtying up my angel and I know it, but dammit, how can I not?
The memory of her petite features scrunching in pain and ecstasy has pre-cum dripping from my head, and I know I’m not going to make it as long as I planned. She drives me too insane with need. If she whimpers or moans my name like she did before, my intentions will be shot to hell. And I won’t be able to wait two seconds before ramming myself inside of her and hitting that sweet, delicious center.
“Want some milkshake, baby?” I ask, lifting the cup from the table.
Layla’s eyes widen. “Yes.”
I grin. She’s with me. Her chin dips to her chest. She nods and I allow myself a few seconds to imagine cupping those full breasts and sucking her into my mouth. “Say please.”
“Please, Landen,” she whimpers. My cock twitches against her thighs.
Filling the straw and closing the top with my finger, I pull it from the cup and place the tip against her lips. She opens without me having to ask, like the good girl she is. I watch her throat swallow and she shivers from the cold.
“More?”
“Yes. Yes, please.” Her breath is coming harder and the swells of her breasts are pumping faster.
“Pretty please, with a cherry on top?” I prompt. She nods rapidly and repeats the plea obediently.
I fill the straw again, but this time, when she opens her mouth, I don’t release. Instead I run it down her skin until those full swells rise to meet it. “For so long I couldn’t even look at a goddamn milkshake. Couldn’t even stand to hear one mentioned without picturing you drinking that first one on our first date. The way your eyes closed when you swallowed, and that little moan of pleasure you let out. Did you even know what you were doing to me?”
Layla shakes her head slowly, her eyes melting into mine. I release the cool liquid between her breasts and she twitches. “Cold,” she whispers.
Smiling, I nod and lean down to remove the cold dessert with my warm tongue. When I swipe across her nipples, her back arches and she moans. “But you knew what you were doing tonight, didn’t you?”
Layla licks her lips and nods her confirmation.
“Was my sweet girl teasing me?”
Her eyes darken and she shakes her head. “Not a tease, Landen. A promise.”
“Well, I can promise you something,” I say, leaning down and pressing my lips gently to the side of her neck just below her ear. “Next time you make me hard in public, I will fuck you in the nearest bathroom. Understood?” The thrill of panic that shoots through Layla’s eyes says she understands perfectly. And that I give orders quite well. The Colonel would be so proud. “Hmm…or maybe I’ll let my fingers fuck your sweet pussy under the table and we can see how well you can hide it when you come. My sweet pussy, I mean.” I let my teeth graze her flesh just hard enough to let her know I’m serious. “You don’t know it’s mine, don’t you?”
“Yes, yours. Oh, God.” Layla’s breathing so hard and fast I’m almost worried for her.
“You okay, baby?”
She nods again, but I feel her twitching beneath me in an attempt to rub her thighs together. She must be aching, that deep ache that only I can soothe. “You need me to fuck you now, don’t you?” I ask, releasing more shake across her stomach before lapping it up.
“Yes, please. ” Her voice is so tight, as tight as I know her pussy is going to be. But I need her closer to the edge. Need her to come before I do.
“Pretty please…” I prompt, and because she knows what I want, she gives me the response I’m looking for.
“Pretty please with a cherry on top,” she begs, still writhing.
“That can be arranged. Spread your legs for me,” I command as I take the lid off the cup and sit it on the nightstand. Only one cherry still has its stem attached, so it’s the lucky one I pull from the cup. Holding it between my fingers by the thin stem, I dip it into Layla’s mouth. “Clean it off but don’t bite.” I watch as she licks the cream off. Now I’m the one groaning involuntarily.
After she’s cleaned it, I drag the small red ball down her chin, between her breasts, and past her stomach, dipping it briefly into her belly button.
Just as I reach the small, closely trimmed landing strip at the juncture of her thighs, I stop. Layla rolls her hips in an attempt to get what she wants, but I don’t move. “Now neither of us will be able to so much as think about a milkshake without remembering this,” I tell her.
“Landen,” she breathes, clutching the bed sheet beneath her.
“I need you open wider.”
She complies, pulling her knees apart until her folds open and her already swollen clit is exposed to me. I suck the cherry into my own mouth, getting it nice and wet. Watching her face for any sign that she might not be into this, I lower my hand and run the cherry against her moist flesh.
“Oh my God,” she cries out, tilting her head back so far I can’t see her eyes. I glance down and watch her pink flesh throb against the little red orb. Damn, I planned a lot more slow torture involving her shake, but I’m about to lose the grip I have on controlling this situation.
Pulling the stem from the cherry, I toss it aside and put the tiny fruit in my mouth again. I bend down and use my tongue to roll it between her folds.
“Landen!” Everything else that comes out of her mouth is incomprehensible. Her cries have my entire body overheating, and I need to be inside her so fucking bad. Her thighs clench on either side of my head, and I want to make her come on my tongue. Her juices are even sweeter than the cherry in my mouth. I tell her so.
Her answering cry sounds pained, and I have to relieve that pain. For both of us. Biting into the cherry and swallowing it, I look up at her eyes staring down at me. A white-hot flash of possessiveness spreads through me, and I grab her hips hard. Too hard.
<
br /> “Your cherry will always be mine. You will always be mine, Layla.”
“I know, Landen. Y-yes, yours, always.” She’s panting, and it’s so fucking hot it steals my own breath. Despite the way she shivered earlier, her skin is covered in a thin sheen of glistening sweat. Finally I give in to the urge to suck each of her full breasts into my mouth, giving each one their turn. Biting her nipples just enough to sting. My cock tenses in time with her moans.
Suddenly she sits up so fast, she almost headbutts me with a force that probably would’ve knocked us both out. For a second I have no clue what she’s doing, until her hands reach the waistband of my boxer briefs and she starts tugging downward. I should stop her, maintain control, but my dick demands I let her do what she wants. Might as well get used to it. Probably what I’ll be doing for the rest of my life, giving Layla what she wants, when she wants, however she wants.
“Baby, we need to use a condom this time,” I mumble against the top of her head as she lowers herself along with my briefs. Her tongue lashes out against my bare chest and I flinch. Too much of that and it will be over before I get inside of her.
Lifting her from under her arms, I stand her upright. “You’re all sticky from milkshake. I think you need a shower.” I retrieve the condom from my wallet and turn back to her.
Confusion softens to pleasure on her face when I pick her up bride-over-the-threshold style, turning sideways to make it through the two narrow doorways until we’re in the bathroom. Lowering her gently to her feet, I glance in the mirror at our naked bodies. Part of me wants to press her against the sink, fuck her from behind, and watch her face in the mirror when she comes. But I saw the gleam in her eye when I mentioned the shower, and I’m betting we have a similar fantasy playing out in our heads.
I wink before tearing my mirrored gaze from her. Another time. We have time. All the time in the world. I don’t care what her last EKG says. Cranking the knob to the red, I pull Layla close as we wait for the water to heat. Might as well make good use of the time. Wrapping my arms around her from behind, I press my erection against her smooth ass. One hand I leave splayed on her stomach, and the other I slip in between her legs.
My grip tightens as she widens her stance to let me in. “You’re so wet. So fucking wet, baby,” I say into her ear. I can’t resist stealing a bite of her sweetness as I press my mouth to her neck. My teeth sink in hard enough to mark her.
“For you. Only for you,” she murmurs, letting her head fall back onto my shoulder.
“Damn straight,” I growl, pressing my fingers alongside her swollen clit. Her hips start to rock and I press harder, faster, until she’s writhing in my arms. When she cries out, I sink my middle finger inside of her. Once, twice, leaving it in her the third time. Her walls clench my finger so tight my dick throbs with jealousy. “Fuck, Layla.”
“Yes, please. Fuck me.”
Holy mother. The tiny bathroom is filling with steam so I open the glass door and lift her inside. “You ready, baby?”
“Past ready,” she breathes as I tear open the condom and roll it over my dick.
Lifting her against the wall, my arms strain and flex, adjusting to the weight. For a second I’m worried this might not work since she’s so damn slippery. But then her warmth slides down, surrounds my cock, and I don’t even have arms anymore. Rocking into her hard and fast, my mind screams at me to slow the hell down so we can enjoy this.
I pound into her until she’s thudding against the shower wall, but her cries aren’t painful. They’re pure pleasure, and I want to make her come with everything I have. Her breasts lift and fall with each thrust, and it’s too much. I won’t be able to hold myself back for another second if we keep at it like this. I try to hold still, give myself a moment to slow things down, but she slides up and down my length of her own accord.
Who am I to deny the girl I love what she wants?
Lowering her to standing, I pull out and turn her in my arms. Sliding my cock over her ass, I apply the slightest pressure to a spot I know she probably won’t let me enter.
Not yet, anyways.
“Landen?” she asks, sounding panicked.
“Shh.” Chuckling like the evil villain that I am, I slide myself forward to the entrance that’s already open for me and plunge in.
“Oh!” she cries out, because this is the deepest I’ve ever been.
Layla groans loudly, her voice echoing off the shower walls and adding to the urgency building inside of me.
“That’s all of it, baby,” I tell her, thrusting as gently as I can manage, reaching around to rub her clit as I sink myself into her as far as I can go. “Come hard for me, sweet girl.”
Obeying my command almost instantly, she comes violently onto my dick. Her internal muscles squeeze me so tight I lose my breath. “Fuck! ”
When I come, a whole list of words I never intended to say in front of her pour out of me along with my orgasm. Followed immediately by, “I love you, Layla. God, I love you so damn much.”
Landen loves me. And I love him.
It’s that simple. The realization hits me so hard it should make a sound. But the only sound I hear as he holds me in his arms is our breathing. Steady, in rhythm with one another. Just like us.
I’m sore from everything we’ve done to each other tonight, but Landen’s warmth soothes my aching muscles. His heat is the balm I need for…everything. There were so many orgasms shared between the two of us tonight that I lost count. If his arms weren’t firmly around me now, I’d probably be floating up near the ceiling somewhere. As it is I’m boneless and spent.
Tracing the hand he has resting over my breast and listening to his steady breathing, my mind wanders. What if he hadn’t given up everything to come here? Would I be with someone else right now? Would he? What if things had ended the night he left Hope Springs? And if he knew what my last EKG had said, how short our time together might be, would he still be here with me now? It makes my stomach churn to think about, so I force myself to stop.
If I keep playing out all the ways things can go wrong, I’ll miss out on the here and now. Which, for me, might not last that much longer. So I close my eyes and concentrate on every part of Landen that’s pressing against my skin. The way his breath feels on me. The warm weight of his muscular arms. His masculine legs braided with mine.
Our bodies are so entwined that I can’t imagine how we’ll ever pull apart, which is fine by me because I don’t want to. Ever.
As much as I try not to think, I can’t stop. Rolling over in his arms so I can study him as he sleeps peacefully next to me, I reach out and trace the arch of his dark eyebrows, his smooth eyelids. What I wouldn’t give to have eyelashes as thick as his. My finger glides down the perfect bridge of his nose and his firm, full lips. His face twitches, and I smile into the darkness.
Why would this beautiful creature give up everything for me? I have no idea. But he did. And just before I snuggle myself into his chest and doze off, I realize I’d do the same for him.
A crash of something slamming into the floor jerks me violently from the deep sleep I was in. “Sorry, shit. Sorry!” Corin’s loud whisper rings out after another loud crash in the darkness.
I sit upright, pulling the covers over my naked body. My thoughts are still thick with sleep, and I barely register that Landen’s next to me, sitting up and pulling me close.
“Dammit!” Corin hiss-whispers, and there’s another thud as something hits the floor.
“Shh, you’re okay, baby. It’s okay,” Landen murmurs into my hair.
And despite the fact that my heart is attempting to pound straight out of my chest, I am okay. I nod and let him squeeze me because I’m pretty sure he’s trembling harder than I am. “I’m okay, Landen,” I whisper.
He swallows hard and I feel him nodding against me as both of us go
still. “What the hell, Ginger? Just turn the damn light on,” he barks at her.
“Landen!” I don’t want the lights on. We’re naked for goodness sakes.
He shoves fabric into my hands and I pull it over my head as fast as I can manage. The lamp on the night table flickers on beside us, and Corin scrambles to grab her blanket and pillow from under the dozens of CD and the shelf that now lay on her bed. She bends down to collect the pieces of a shattered picture frame.
“Told you two push pins wouldn’t be enough to hold all that,” I tell her, stifling a laugh.
“Yeah, yeah,” she mutters. “Sorry. I figured you had company so I was just going to grab my pillow and blanket and sleep on the futon.”
Once again, I feel like the slutty roommate.
“We were just sleeping, Corin. You don’t have to give up your bed. We can go sleep on the futon,” Landen tells her before I can.
“It’s fine, um, Skylar’s here so…”
Raising an eyebrow, I look at her closely. Her clothes are a little disheveled and her curly mass of hair is a mess. “Oh, Corin, no,” I say.
“Not what you think. Shut up,” she commands under her breath, throwing a pointed look at Landen. Okay, guess we’ll talk about it later then.
“Shutting.”
“Night night, kids,” Corin says, turning off the lamp on her way out.
After she slides the door closed, Landen huffs out a loud sigh and lies back down next to me. “Thank God for Topiramax,” he mumbles.
Adrenaline shoots through my veins as I click the lamp back on. “What did you just say?”
“I said, thank God for Topir—oh God, oh shit. Layla.”
I can feel the blood draining from my face. The room threatens to spin. No, it threatens to combust into flames. While spinning. Turning me, Landen, and the perfect bubble of happiness we’ve been in to nothing. Vapor.
