Slay (Storm MC 4)

“You pissed me off, Donovan. I won’t ever be the type of woman you can control like that, so if that’s what you’re looking for, it’s best to walk away now.”

What the fuck?

I slid one hand around her waist, and the other around her neck. Gripping both hands tightly around her, I bent my face to her ear and growled, “I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart, so you need to tell me what the fuck has gotten into you over the last few days. You’ve pulled away from me, and we need to fix that. Tonight.”

I felt her suck in a breath, and watched in the mirror as her eyes widened. When she didn’t say anything, I spoke again, “Feel it, Layla. Stop thinking so hard, and just tell me what you feel.”

As we stared at each other in the mirror, the only sound in the room was our uneven breathing. We were both feeling this, I was sure of it.

“I feel like I’m falling so deep into this with you, Donovan, and I think you feel the same way, but then I don’t want to believe it...” Her voice trailed off.

“Why?” I held my breath, waiting for her answer.

She hesitated for a moment. “Because if it’s not true, it will kill me when you walk away,” she whispered.

The brokenness in her voice hit me in the chest, and I pulled her into me, my arms wrapping tight around her. “I’m in deep, baby, with no intention of walking away. I told you I’ve never felt it like this before, and I meant that. I fucking need you, Layla, like I’ve never needed anyone.”

She stared at me, and I knew her brain had kicked in again. When she didn’t speak, I squeezed her, and demanded, “Say it. Whatever it is, say it.”

Her eyes shut for a couple of moments, and when she opened them, I could see the change. “I worry you’re not over Ashley, that one day you’ll realise I can never be her . . . ”

I cut her off, “I don’t want you to be her.” I let her go and spun her around. “I want you. You accept me in ways she never could, and you’ve never once tried to change me. I fucking needed that because I was buried so far down in my own self-hatred it was suffocating me. For the first time in years, I feel like I can breathe again, and that’s because of you.”

Her eyes searched mine, and she brought her hand up to my face, gently resting it on my cheek. “I’ll never want you to change,” she whispered. “I want you, flaws and all, Donovan, because you’ve been there for me in ways no one in my life ever has. And you might not want to hear this so soon, but I’m fairly sure I’m falling in love with you.”

Fuck.

I pulled her into my arms and kissed her. This woman fucking owned me, and she had no idea. I used my mouth and my body to show her just how much I wanted to hear what she’d just said to me. And I knew she felt it when her arms wrapped around me, and she sunk into my embrace. It was like the barrier she’d erected between us four days ago came crashing down, and she let me back in.

Reaching my hands down to cup her ass, I lifted her into my arms and carried her to the bed. After I deposited her there, I stripped out of my clothes, and enjoyed the feeling of her eyes on my body. Layla never hid her hunger for me, and that turned me on more than anything. I watched as she removed her towel and revealed her body to me. Fuck, she was beautiful.

I moved to position myself over her and bent my face to kiss her again. She opened her mouth to me, and our tongues danced as we lost ourselves to the kiss. Her hands were urgent on me, pulling me closer. I didn’t need encouraging, though. I fucking wanted her as much as she wanted me, and when her legs wrapped tightly around me, I knew this wouldn’t last long. Our needs demanded to be satisfied quickly.

As she rocked herself against me, I thrust inside her. Hard enough that she cried out and clawed my back. I pulled out and thrust in again.

“Fuck,” she yelled out as her head arched back against the pillow.

I worked us up into a relentless pace, and as I felt my orgasm hit, I thrust hard one last time before burying my face in her neck, marking her. I’d never wanted to sink my teeth into a woman as much as I did with Layla. It was as if some primitive desire came over me that I was helpless to control.

Her pussy squeezed around my dick, and she gripped me tighter as she let her orgasm take over.

She eventually let me go, unwrapping her arms and legs so I could shift to lie next to her on the bed. I put my arm out and pulled her against me so her head rested on my shoulder. She entwined her leg with mine and whispered, “Maybe I should tell you I’m falling in love with you more often.”

I squeezed her against me. “Maybe you should.”

I could hear the smile in her voice when she said, “I like it when your voice goes like that.”

“Lik

e what, sweetheart?”

She shifted so she was looking up at me. “All growly and hot. You should talk to me like that more often, cause you’d get laid more.”

“Fuck, Layla, I get laid plenty. You’ve got demands on my dick morning and night as it is.”

She grinned. “Stop your grumbling. Any man would love to have that problem. I’m thinking of adding in a lunch time session, too.”

Fuck me.