Slay (Storm MC 4)

Fuck, her touch healed, if only for that moment. She knew what I’d done, and she was fucking thanking me for it. She accepted that part of me.

I drank some of my scotch and welcomed its burn.

She let my hand go, tightening her scarf back around her neck. My need to be connected to her was too great to move my hand away. I trailed my finger along her collarbone and then I traced the skin above the v of her t-shirt, letting my finger slip underneath the material every now and then. The gentle rise and fall of her chest turned me on. I loved how I affected her.

I kept feathering my light touch over her skin while I drank the rest of my scotch. Our eyes held each other, and the slow burn of need sizzled through me.

“I need you,” I growled.

“I need you, too,” she whispered.

Fuck.

I looked at my hand against her chest and the contradiction of what that hand could deliver wasn’t lost on me.

The contradiction of me.

I moved my hand and stood. Picking up the scotch and my glass, I waited for her to stand, and then I followed her. I took the scotch upstairs with me. I’d need it tonight.

Chapter Eleven

Layla

Donovan’s need matched mine, but he fucked me slower tonight. He didn’t have the wild, driving desire of last night. Instead, he blessed me with his touch.

It was almost like a spiritual experience.

He sat on the edge of the bed, facing me while I stood, and wordlessly stripped me, eyes focused on my body rather than my face. Once he had me naked, he snaked his hands around me and rested them on my ass. He bent forward and pressed a kiss to my stomach. A growl came from his chest, and he gripped my butt tight, kissing my stomach as if he was kissing my mouth. I dropped my head back and grasped his hair while the pleasure spread through me.

When he’d finished kissing all over my stomach, he moved lower to my pussy. His hand slid down the back of my leg and he lifted it so he could place my foot on the bed. He opened me up to him, and my core clenched as he licked along my slit. He growled again, a deep growl that vibrated against my opening, and I moaned my pleasure.

It was a slow, exquisite torture as he gently moved his tongue and fingers inside me. He would get me close and then back off, leaving me to ride the waves of bliss, and then pant for more. I was desperate for him to drive me over the edge, but I sensed he needed this to go slow tonight, so I took what he was willing to give until he was ready to give more.

Donovan lost himself in me. His slow movements gradually built and his grip on me tightened, bit by bit, until he was roughly grasping me and holding me firm to his mouth. As he finally brought me to my release, my legs trembled and threatened to buckle. Brilliant white lights burst through my mind as every inch of my body felt the orgasm he’d given me.

“Baby,” he rasped.

Yes.

I opened my eyes and looked into his. He was sitting on the bed, watching me closely. Waiting for me.

“Yes,” I whispered, my mind a hot mess of thoughts after that orgasm.

“Come here.” He pulled me onto his lap, and I went willingly.

I crawled onto him and wrapped my legs around him. He was still fully clothed, which irritated me, and my hands went to the bottom of his tee and began lifting it over his head. His arms went up as I pulled it off. I threw it on the floor and put my hands on his chest.

Oh god, I could get used to this man.

His hands travelled up my arms to my neck. A moment later, his gaze shifted to my neck and he bent to lay soft kisses on the marks he’d put there last night. I tilted my head to allow him access and enjoyed the feel of his mouth on me.

“Not gonna mark you tonight,” he mumbled in between kisses.

“I don’t mind,” I confessed. “I love your teeth on me.”

His hands curled tighter around my neck, and he slowed his kisses until he was still. His breathing grew ragged and he spoke in a strangled voice. “No, not rough tonight.”

I sucked in a breath at the ravaged tone in his voice. It was like he was fractured somehow, not completely himself.