Layla
Dalton’s hand slides up my side under my shirt, his rough, calloused hand smoothing over my skin. I shiver against his touch, my eyes fluttering closed.
“Come with me,” he whispers against my neck, sucking the delicate skin hard enough to leave a bruise.
I’ll follow him anywhere. That’s how I know I’m in deep, drowning in him, actually. I’ll follow him to hell if he asks.
Maybe I’m already there.
A gentle scratching noise sounds overhead as he guides me into the bathroom, his eyes locked on mine, dark and full of primal heat. Desire. Excitement.
I look up at the ceiling as the scratching sound gets louder, like something is scurrying back and forth right above us.
“Eyes on me,” he whispers, and I look back at him, nodding as if in a trace.
He shuts the bathroom door behind us, his fingers still intertwined with mine. “Dalton?”
“Shh….” He turns to me, caging me in against the counter. “Don’t say anything, Angel. Just let me take your mind off everything.”
That sounds perfect. I’m already under his spell when he lets go of my hand and turns to the shower. In a matter of seconds, steam feels the snug room, the hot water thrumming against the tiles.
He turns back to me slowly. My heart bears erratically as his gaze rakes over my body. “Take off your clothes,” he commands, his voice low and rasping.
I slowly pull my shirt over my head, tossing it to the ground. He inhales sharply, his eyes traveling down from my face to my neck, then my lacy blue bra. I keep my eyes on his face as I hook my thumbs in my shorts and shimmy out of them, standing in nothing but my bra and a matching thong.
“Everything, Angel,” he says. He watches my hands as I pull down my thong, then I reach behind my back to unclasp my bra.
Steam swirls around my skin while I stand in front of him, bared to him, my blood roaring through my ears. I step toward him and guide his shirt over his head, then reach for his belt.
His knuckles graze over my upper breasts as I undo his jeans and shove them down over his muscular thighs. He seems to be in just as much of a trance as I am when I kneel, pulling his boxers down.
He told me I belong to him. I want him to treat me like it.
Kneeling, I rest my hands on his thighs, looking up at him. I open my mouth and stick out my tongue.
A cocky smirk plays over his lips. He chuckles darkly down at me while running his fingers through my hair to cup the back of my head. His cock is rigid as I slide my hands up his thighs. Slowly, he drags the head over my tongue, exhaling deeply.
I wait for his praise; I’m desperate for it.
I open my mouth wider in invitation for him to fuck my mouth. A faint mewling whimper escapes my throat as he teases his cock against my tongue, giving me only a taste of him. Salty, sweet, everything I’ve been craving.
“You,” he rasps, gripping the back of my head with more force, “are a very good girl, Angel.”
I close my eyes and moan as he thrusts his dick into my mouth, hitting the back of my throat. I suck him down, grazing my teeth down his shaft.
Looking up at him, I notice he’s closed his eyes, his lips slightly parted as he pumps into my mouth and drags his cock out slowly, relishing the way my tongue swirls over the head.
“Layla.” He whispers my name like a prayer. It sends shivers of pleasure licking down my spine and settling between my thighs.
I suck him down again, further than ever before, my vision going blurry at the edges as that fight or flight response kicks in. I can’t breathe around his girth. His length glides down my throat, and I fight against my gag reflex, willing myself to relax.
I am his. I belong to him—and only him.
And right now, I want him to know that he is mine.
He pulls out all the way, looking down at me with a sleepy, heated expression. It’s a soft look, something I realize he doesn’t show often.
I don’t know this man. I don’t know anything about his childhood, his family, or his life beyond this house. But I know that there’s something different about this… the feelings between us. His body feels like it was made for mine, and his touch is the one thing that’s ever been able to set my soul aflame.
He taps the head of his cock on my outstretched tongue. “You’re so beautiful with my dick in your mouth.”
I’m so wet that I’m dripping down my thighs.
He takes me by the wrists and pulls me upright, roughly pressing me against the counter. The shower stills runs in the background as he spins me around so I’m facing the mirror. His paint smeared hands wipe away the mist clinging to the glass, and then I’m staring at my reflection while he stands behind me, his hands coming up around my belly to cup my breasts, which are full and aching to be touched.
I close my eyes and moan, pressing my ass on his thighs. “I need you.”
“Open your eyes, Angel. I want you to watch while I fuck you.”
One of his hands grazes up to my neck, squeezing lightly. I open my eyes just as he presses his dick against my entrance, sliding it through the wet heat gathered there. I gasp at the fullness as his head penetrates my pussy.
“Are you sore, Angel?” he whispers, against my hair. I watch through the reflection in the mirror as he nudges my head to the side, giving him access to my neck.
He groans in my ear as he thrusts into my pussy, my belly pressed against the counter. He fills me up completely and hisses through his teeth at the way my pussy tightens around his cock. I lift up on my toes so I can take him deeper.
This isn’t like the times before. There is something far more intimate about the way he’s touching me now. Even while he’s fucking me from behind, his hands leaves my neck. One cups my breast, the other one resting on my hip as he closes his eyes and presses his forehead to the top of my head. He grits his teeth like he’s holding back.
“Open your eyes,” I tell him, unable to recognize my own voice. It’s low and sultry, exuding a kind of confidence I hadn’t realized I possessed.
He slowly raises his head, his eyes washed in ecstasy, and meets my eyes in the mirror.
My lips part in a moan as I keep my eyes on his, my climax beginning to curl through my lower belly and into my thighs. The tension builds, getting sharper and deeper with each thrust.
I want Dalton unleashed. I want him to scream my name. I want him whispering his praise in my ear while I come undone with his cock buried in my pussy.
His eyes darken as he nips the rim of my ear, his eyes still locked on mine. “Your pussy is fucking paradise, Angel. The way you grip me….” He growls low in his throat, his lips dipping from my ear to my neck, his teeth grazing over my pulse. “Do you like watching yourself get fucked?”
“Only by you.” My eyes nearly roll back in my head when he hits that spot deep inside of me that sends my heart rate skyrocketing.
He chuckles low in his throat, raking his teeth over my shoulder. His hand leaves my breast and travels over my belly, then to where we’re joined. I whimper when his fingers brush over my clit in rough circles, the feeling ripples through me and causes me to clamp down around his cock.
“Oh, that’s it,” he moans, biting down on my shoulder. His teasing touch is light, soft, less than what I need to come, and he knows it.
I arch my hips, taking him deeper, my mouth parting in another whimper as my legs start to shake.
He pumps into me hard, the sound of our bodies joining echoing through the room.
“Dalton–” I choke out. I’m close. So, so close. I just need a little more. I want more.
“Beg,” he says in my ear, and I practically scream his name as he pulls out all the way and slams into me again.
“Please!” I cry out. His thrusts become violent, damning; the counter bites into my stomach as he pounds home, filling me wholly and completely. He slaps my clit, causing me to scream his name again, and again, his cock dragging in and out of my sore and swollen pussy.
He hooks an arm around me, clutching my back to his chest, and presses a rough kiss to my neck.
Then I’m coming undone, falling to pieces in his arms. My legs shake violently as the strongest orgasm I’ve ever felt in my entire life rips through my body. Stars fill my vision, and I gasp for breath. My pussy spasms around his dick, but he’s not done. He pulls out, whirling me around so we’re chest to chest, and then lifts me up onto the counter and spreads my legs wide.
He thrusts into me again, his mouth crushed to mine. I wrap my arms around his neck and hold on for dear life.
“Dalton,” I whisper against his lips.
“Angel,” he replies, breathless.
“You’re mine.”
He looks into my eyes as he comes, buried deep inside of me.
His tongue sweeps over my lower lip, then his mouth is on mine again in a kiss so passionate, it takes my breath away.
I expect him to leave, for whatever reason. I expect to spend the rest of the evening alone, like usual. But gently, he helps me off the counter and guides me into the shower, where his hands travel over every inch of my body, and his mouth finds mine again and again.
It’s only a matter of minutes before he’s hard once more, and his touch becomes more frenzied. Before I know it, my back is pressed against the wall, and he’s holding me up, my legs locked around his waist, while he fucks me dizzy.
The entire time, his lips are on mine, soft and passionate, the kisses full of something other than possession. Feeling, I believe. Connection. An emotion maybe neither of us are ready to put into words.
Because… well, what happens after this? Do we have a future together outside of this creepy house and fucked up situation?
Do we have an out, somehow?
Or is what I feel for him only the need for comfort and distraction?
Either way, an hour later, I’m getting dressed, and Dalton is walking out my bedroom door. He looks at me over his shoulder, that cocky smile that I love playing over his lips before he says, “I’ll find you later.”
“You’re absolutely insatiable,” I remark.
He winks at me, which he’s never done before, and it sets a spark of hope flaming to life in my heart.
“Only for you.”
The door closes with a soft click, and I’m alone. Beyond the windows, night has fallen. I dress in my usual scrubs, ready for whatever the night will bring with Aunt Penny, and wait for Bailey to come back.
My head is clear, and I’m ready for whatever happens next.
But then a long, jagged scraping sound echoes above my head, muffled by the ceiling and floorboards above me. I look up, wondering if the calm, starry weather outside is enough of a shelter from the storm brewing inside of the house tonight with each passing second.