I work slowly removing the clothes from her body. Once that’s done, I stand at the foot of the bed, then take a moment to just admire her. She’s fucking beautiful and somehow—despite fucking up in the worst ways imaginable—she still cares for me.
I move onto the bed, gently grasping my hand around her ankle and lifting her leg, making room for my body. I kiss her tender skin and hear her sweet moan. It encourages me to do more. I kiss along her calf muscle, licking an invisible path, tasting her skin and immediately needing more.
“Thomas?”
Lyla’s sleep filled voice hits me and I look up to find her deep blue eyes staring down at me.
I hold her gaze as I move my hand along her inner thigh.
“T-take your shirt off, Lyla,” I order, my voice graveled and full of need. I let my thumb stroke her soft skin and wait to see if she’ll do as I ordered.
“Thomas…”
“Do it.”
She swallows nervously. I’m prepared for her to tell me to go to hell. Surprise floods me as she lifts up, pulls her top off and throws it to the side.
“Good girl,” I groan as my gaze moves to take in her large creamy breasts, the nipples swollen, distended and begging for my mouth.
“I’m not sure this is a good idea,” she cautions as I stretch over her body.
“I’ll convince you,” I grunt, right before my lips find her nipple and I take it into my mouth. I trap it between my teeth and suckle. Lyla cries out, her body jerking under me, proving just how tender she is. I lap at the hardened morsel, teasing her before sucking it again. I squeeze her other breast with my hand, and she cries out.
I free it for a minute, afraid I hurt her. When I look down at her, all I see is a woman hungry for more.
My woman is hungry for me.
I keep working her breasts as I kiss my way down her body. I stop when I get to her stomach and let my hands come down to caress the area gently. Our child is there. A human being that the two of us created. A little girl or boy that will hopefully grow one day to have his or her mother’s eyes along with a heart so sweet it shines through them. This sense of pride and satisfaction runs through me so strong that I can’t truly describe it. Despite how things started, I know I’m right where I belong.
“Thomas?”
I look up to find Lyla staring down at me, confusion and worry on her face. I smile at her, feeling as if a part of me has slid into place—a part that has been missing since I let Lyla walk out my door.
“We’re going to m-make this work, Lyla. Together.”
That’s not all that what I want to say, but my heart is so full, I’m not sure how to put it all into words. So, I can only give her the only ones that are on my mind because I can’t let her go.
“Thomas,” she breathes, before I slide down further.
I pull her legs over my shoulders and bury my face in her perfect pussy. She smells so fucking sweet—completely hungry for me. God, she’s like a drug and I just want more. I pull her lips apart so I can see her pussy completely open for me. She’s so fucking wet that she’s glistening like diamonds in the rain.
“So beautiful,” I groan. I flatten my tongue out and lap at her juices that are coating her tender flesh. Her legs quiver around me, making pride surge through me. I lick at her cunt until it feels as if my tongue is numb. I can’t pull away. Her sugary sweet pussy is a nectar that I’ll never tire of, she’s covering my tongue my throat and I hum against her swollen pussy as she slides down the back of my throat.
I fuck her pussy with my tongue, all while sliding my fingers over her slick, throbbing clit. Jesus, she’s so wet and there’s no way she can last very long. I want to be buried inside of her—and I will—but only after she comes on my tongue and shatters around me.
She grinds down on my face, riding it. I give her what she wants, letting her use me before pulling back enough to take control. I suck on her clit, lapping at it with my tongue, teasing her as I push two fingers into her tight opening. I was her first and it’s been way too long since we fucked. I’m going to need to stretch her all over again. The joy that brings me is indescribable. I don’t question that Lyla has been with anyone but me. She hasn’t. She belongs to me and that’s a fucking gift. I’d kill another man for even trying to touch her and I’m not exaggerating. She belongs to me. I pull back and remove my fingers from her tight sheath. I grin down at her, enjoying the way she’s panting. My fingers are coated in her cum, and I slide them against her taut nipples. Her body jerks, her hips pushing out toward me.