I sat down beside him and reached out, my palm caressing his cheek before moving up to run my fingers through his sweat dampened hair. As I touched him his eyes closed and for a moment, just the briefest of moments, he leaned into my touch before pulling away again. I stared at him, at the way his long lashes rested on his cheeks before they lifted and I was trapped by the emotions swirling in his eyes as he looked at me.
“Ok.” I said softly, giving into the need I saw in his expression. “I’ve got to take off my shoes first though.” My leggings and top could stay. At least I’d dressed comfortably to come here. Just as well now I was going to have to lie down fully dressed.
I slipped off my shoes and climbed onto the bed, propping myself up on the pillows beside Shay. It was an uncomfortable moment. I wasn’t sure what he wanted from me. I ached to touch him. To take him in my arms and hold him, even if he was like a human furnace right now. The more I got to know him, the more I realised there were a lot of layers to him. His illness lowered his defences enough for me to see the vulnerable little boy inside and I got some insight as to what troubled him.
Shay rolled over towards me and slipped an arm over my stomach, pulling me in closer to him. I tensed at the weight of it on me. If he only knew how close he was to where our baby nestled in my womb. He still had no idea. I thought I would have told him by now. I never expected to find him so sick, but there was no way I could tell him until he was better. In his current condition it might not register what I was saying or if it did, the news might make him worse. I didn’t want to think about how he would react. In every scenario that played out in my head, not one single one of them ended with him happy about the news.
As I lay there worrying about how he would take the news when I finally told him I was pregnant I realised the weight of his arm on me had grown heavier and his breathing had deepened and evened out. He was asleep.
I couldn’t lie here with him. He was too damn hot from his fever and I wanted to get something prepared for him to eat. He had to eat, even if it was just a little, if he had any chance of getting over the virus he had.
Gently, carefully I managed to slide my way out from under him. It was a slow process as I didn’t want to wake him. Apart from rolling onto his back, he didn’t stir and once I was clear of the bed I didn’t bother with my shoes and instead padded barefoot out to the kitchen.
I wasn’t sure how long Shay would sleep for but hopefully the tablets he took would kick in sometime soon and start lowering his temperature and then he’d probably start feeling better.
I wanted to have something ready for him to eat when he woke. So starting with the chicken, I browned it off for the soup I was making and began dicing celery, onion and carrots to add to it. I figured I’d go with the old remedy for an illness: chicken soup.
Shay
My father’s fingers bit into the skin of my arms and his voice was harsh in my ear. “Keep still.” I could feel his spittle spray across my cheek. “You owe me for raising you, you little bastard. We both have our debts to pay off.”
The man behind me was thrusting into me so hard it hurt. Why wouldn’t my father or that man listen to me when I told them to stop? It hurt. It always hurt and the pain would stay for a few days afterwards. It would hurt to sit down. It would hurt to use the bathroom. There would be blood…
“No.” I cried, tears flowing down my cheeks. “No…it hurts…stop…it…you’re hurting me.” I sobbed but the pain just kept going on and on, unrelenting. “No dad…please…make him stop.”
“Don’t call me that you fucking little shit.” More saliva sprayed against my cheek as my father snarled the words at me, his fingers biting into my wrists as he held me still so I couldn’t fight the invasion of the man behind me.
“Shay…Shay…wake up. Please wake up. It’s ok. You’re safe.” A woman’s voice came to me. It got louder and louder until it drowned out the voices of my father and the other man. It dragged me away from the blinding fear. It dragged me away from the anger I saw in my father’s eyes. But most of all it dragged me away from the pain. That searing, unrelenting pain I felt, each time that man who made those god awful grunting sounds, fucked me over and over again.
My eyes shot open and with my heart pounding so hard I wondered if it might burst free from my chest, I looked into the panicked face of Lyla.
“Shay, are you ok? Jesus Christ, you scared me half to death. You were crying out. You must have been having an awful nightmare. I couldn’t leave you like that. I had to wake you.” She sat down by the bed, her fingers brushing against my cheeks and it was then that I realised I was crying.
“Fuck.” I muttered, swiping at my tears, suddenly embarrassed that she was seeing me like this. Damn dreams were doing my head in and I was revealing too much to Lyla. I could tell by the sympathy I saw in her eyes. I didn’t need her sympathy. I didn’t need her pity. I was fine. I’d been dealing with these dreams alone for years and survived.
“What happened to you baby?” She asked, her hand coming up to cup my cheek and for some inexplicable reason I instantly fell apart. I should have just raged at her, driven her away by being an asshole. I’d already proven I was good at that, but I didn’t.
Maybe it was something about the tone of her voice? Perhaps it was her hand on me? It could have been the soft way she called me baby. More than likely it was because I was weakened by the virus ravaging my body. I don’t know and I didn’t have time to debate it.
For reasons unknown but more than likely the result of all of the above, I crumbled. Reaching for her, my arms circled her waist and with my face tucked into her, her sweet, floral scent surrounding me, I gave into the emotions that suddenly seemed to weigh me down and I wept.
I couldn’t even work up the energy to get myself under control. Even the initial embarrassment I felt faded quickly and I gave up worrying about what Lyla would think of me as I rapidly soaked her top with my tears. Surprisingly it felt nice. Nice to not have to fight it. Nice to not have to always be so tightly controlled and nice to feel her fingers in my hair, combing through it, soothingly. It was nice to have someone holding me in a way that was comforting and not sexual. It was nice to feel even for just a short time, like someone cared.
I don’t know how long I gave into my emotions for, but when I finally stopped crying I closed my eyes for a moment, exhausted by it all, worn out from my tears. It had to be the virus, surely that was doing this to me?
My tears seemed to have a cathartic effect because I actually felt a little better instead of feeling like I was trapped in an inferno I couldn’t escape. If anything instead of the heat that had consumed my body, I now felt cold.
Shivering I edged closer to Lyla, my grip tightening around her as I tried to absorb her warmth. She responded by pulling the sheet over both of us and settling down in the bed, her arms still around me. It felt nice, nicer than I expected it to feel to have someone holding me and inching even closer to her, until I was tucked up against her body, I gave myself over to sleep.
When I woke it was dark and for a moment I froze when I realised I wasn’t alone. I could hear steady breathing next to me and as the fog around my brain cleared, I remembered it was Lyla who lay with me in my bed.
Reaching over, I turned on my bedside lamp and the soft glow from the low watt globe cast a dim light over the bed and the woman who slept beside me.
Rolling onto my side, ignoring the dull aches and pains in my joints, I studied her face. God she was beautiful. Even asleep with her lips parted slightly and her hair a tangled mess around her, she was still, easily the most attractive woman I’d ever seen.
I lay there watching her, fascinated by the sight of her. Why was she here? Why had she come to see me? Why was she helping me, taking care of me? I’d treated her so badly after she’d spent the night with me and I’d run out on her the next day at her apartment. We’d barely seen each other since. Even at the courthouse I’d done everything I could to act like the sight of her was
n’t sending me into a tailspin. Yet here she was, like Goldilocks sleeping in my bed.
Tentatively I reached out, letting my fingers trail across her cheek, over skin that was so smooth it was like silk. I barely touched her, not wanting to wake her but she was either a light sleeper or about to wake anyway because she stirred, her eyelids fluttering before opening, revealing her stunning blue eyes.
She stared at me, her expression blank before a frown finally drew her brows together as if she too struggled to remember where she was and what she was doing. I saw an awareness of her surroundings appear in her eyes and she lifted a hand towards me, pressing the back of it against my forehead.
“You’re still hot. A bit better – but hot.” She sat up, turning to reach for more of those damn pills for me. Again she popped out two and handed them to me with the glass of water.
This time I didn’t even argue with her. There was no point. She would more than likely force them down my throat anyway and she was only trying to help me, despite my ungrateful behaviour. Like an obedient child, I took the pills and swallowed them straight down with some of the water. Even adding a murmured ‘thank you’ for her as I stretched back out in the bed again.
I still felt cold, enough that I shivered and I hated it. Whatever the hell this virus was, it was kicking my ass. I hated being sick. I hated feeling weak and I hated that I was showing weakness in front of Lyla. What must she think of me?
Shifting closer, wanting the warmth coming off her body to help ease the chill in mine, I threw a leg over hers. It wasn’t enough though. I needed more, so I brought my body flush with hers, adhering to her in a desperate effort to feed off her warmth.
She must have felt the tremors running through me because her arms came around me and she pressed her body to mine. I sighed, my lips against her neck but our position mustn’t have been comfortable for her as she turned, rolling onto her side facing away from me. I hesitated, not sure if she wanted some space between us but she shifted her body back until it was against mine and we were lying, her back to my front. I’d never been a fan of spooning but right now, in my weakened stated, my body curled around hers, I was rapidly becoming a fan.
I don’t know how long we lay like that. It could have been minutes or maybe it was hours. I didn’t really care. I just couldn’t get enough of absorbing the feel of her body in my arms and the smell of her hair and perfume as they filled my nostrils.
Whereas I was happy to just lie there soaking up Lyla’s warmth, she however couldn’t seem to lie still. With every wiggle and squirm, with every bump of her delectable ass against my groin I felt my cock begin to lengthen and harden. The damn thing clearly didn’t understand I was sick. While it was ready to party the rest of me wasn’t feeling quite so enthusiastic.
Worried Lyla would notice and think I was coming onto her, I tried to pull the lower half of my body away from her but when I felt her tense, I knew she was aware that something had come up between us.
She rolled over again until she was facing me and I met her gaze warily, wondering if I was about to be berated about how inappropriate my hard on was right now.
Lyla didn’t say anything. She just looked at me, her eyes moving over my face until finally, unexpectedly, she leaned in closer and kissed me. As she kissed me, tasting me, her lips on mine were my little piece of heaven. A heaven I latched onto in the middle of the hell caused by the virus and the nightmares that wouldn’t leave me alone.
She kissed me until I opened to her, letting her inside. She kissed me until I was breathless in her arms. She kissed me until I gave up the battle and my tongue took possession of her mouth and she kissed me until my body raged with the overwhelming, all-consuming, desperate need to be inside her.
I had to stop this. I had to release her or I was going to take her. Frantically I dragged my lips from hers. “Jesus Lyla. Stop. Please. If you don’t want this to go any further we have to stop or I won’t be able to.” I groaned. “I want you. I know it’s wrong. I’m sick. I might infect you, but I want you. Dammit. Even if I pass out from the effort, I fucking want you.”
I watched a myriad of emotions cross her face as she stared into my eyes and I tried to read her thoughts, searching her expression for something that might give me a clue as to what she was thinking.
“Are you sure? You might make yourself worse.” She frowned. “You might not be up to such rigorous exercise.”
Her words forced a hoarse sounding snort from me. I honestly didn’t know if I was up to sex right now but clearly one part of me was more than up to it.
“Well one part of me is.” I pointed out, nudging my cock against her so she could feel how hard I was for her. “If you don’t want to, you only have to say.” I told her. “Maybe you just don’t want me. I haven’t treated you very well I know.” I let my fingers drift over her lower lip. “Don’t you want me?” I asked, my voice little more than a whisper.
“Too much.” She whispered and I saw tears shimmer in her eyes. My heart jolted at the sight of them and I couldn’t help wondering what I’d said or done to cause them. Maybe they were there because she was remembering our night together and what I’d done to her the next morning? I had no idea but when she turned, unleashing the full force of her brilliant gaze on me, I saw so much emotion in her eyes it momentarily took my breath away. “You’re still sick Shay. I don’t want to make you worse. You’re supposed to be resting and I’m not sure ‘rigorous exercise’ as you call it can be classed as resting.”
I released her, rolling onto my back. “If you want me as much as I want you but you’re worried about my health, then you do all the work.” I told her. “You’ve done it before and I seem to remember you enjoyed it.” I gave her a smile before pushing the sheet down to uncover my straining erection. Her eyes lowered to where my eager cock jutted up, ready and willing for action.
She hesitated and for a moment I thought she was going to reject me but instead she sat up, pulling the top she wore over her head where she tossed it to the floor. Her bra went the same way as her top and she lay down, lifting her hips from the bed to shimmy out of the leggings she wore, taking her lacy panties with them.
It wasn’t the sexiest striptease I’d seen but it still took me from hard to harder, watching her. When she pulled herself up onto her knees and threw a leg over my hips, the sight of her naked body rising above mine was enough to make my cock twitch in response.
As she kneeled over me, her eyes fixed on my face I slipped a finger between her thighs and ran it through her slick folds, feeling it glide smoothly through the moisture that coated her entrance.
I swallowed down the groan that tried to work its way up my throat when I brushed my thumb over her clit, rubbing it and feeling it swell beneath my touch. I followed the movement of my fingers and thumb, captivated by the sight of her and the way her arousal left my skin wet where my hand touched her between her legs.
Right now, she needed this as much as I did and all I could do was watch helplessly when she rose up higher on her knees and reached between our bodies, taking me in her hand. Holding me steady she lowered herself and I couldn’t take my eyes off the sight of my cock disappearing inch by inch into her warm, wet pussy. I sucked in a deep breath at the sight of her folds parting and her body opening to receive me and as I filled her, spearing my way inside her, I savoured the feel of her, so incredibly tight around me.
My head dropped back making an audible thump as it hit the headboard but I didn’t feel any pain. Maybe I should have, given I’d hit my head when I passed out in the kitchen, but right now I couldn’t feel anything but the heat surrounding my dick as I disappeared inside Lyla’s body. When it seemed like I was as deep in her as I could go, I tilted my hips and she took me deeper, not stopping until I butted up against her womb. She sat on me, not moving other than to tighten around me and I couldn’t stifle the groan that rumbled up from my chest.
“Fuck.” I groaned again, my whole body tense. Every sense tuned into the
woman who sat so silently on me. “Please Lyla.” My eyes opened struggling to focus on her. “I need you to move. Ride me dammit. Fucking use me. Take what you need from me.”
Lyla’s eyes darkened as they drilled into me, leaving me feeling exposed, vulnerable beneath her. She watched me, her focus so intense I felt like she was trying to see inside me.
Her hands moved to my stomach and slowly she rose up onto her knees and the air left my lungs with a loud whoosh. Finally she was moving, but slowly, oh so agonisingly slowly, and I broke free of her gaze to focus on the point where our bodies were joined, watching as I emerged from her, my cock wet from her, before she lowered herself again, taking me just as slowly back inside.
She settled into a rhythm, rising and lowering herself, her hands braced on me and all the time, I watched my cock appear and then disappear as her body took me deep into it over and over again.
God she was tight, so fucking tight and it was both a heaven and a hell being balls deep in her. I didn’t understand her power. What it was that made her different. I didn’t know why I couldn’t seem to get enough of her. Why I couldn’t stop thinking about her, even during the months we hadn’t seen one another. I also didn’t know why, when I was in her, I forgot everything that tormented me and all I could focus on, all I was aware of was her.
“Oh my…oh Shay…oh Shay.” My name began to fall from her lips and I dragged my attention from where our bodies were joined to watch her face. Her eyes were closed, her head back, showing off the beautiful length of her slim neck and as I stared at her, totally enthralled by her, she began to move faster, riding me with complete abandon.
I cursed under my breath at the feel of her tightening around me, gripping me so firmly I could feel my own release rushing at me. I couldn’t come yet. Being sick didn’t give me an excuse to come too soon. I was supposed to be the fucking sex god. I had to make her come first.
Sex God Page 22
