Chapter 205 My favorite part!

Chapter 205 My favorite part!
LAYLA

His hands work the laces at my back while I undo the buttons of his pants.

I win the race, sliding my hand beneath the fabric to stroke him from root to tip.

The guttural groan he gives me feels like a reward and hits straight between my thighs, the ache intensifying to a throb.

“Let go so I can get you naked.” He punctuates that last word with a nip
of my lower lip.

Yes, please. I free him, and he pulls my inner shirt loose enough to tug it over
my head.

It smacks the ground, and a second later the sensitive peak of my breast is surrounded by his mouth, flicked by his tongue.

I moan, my fingers tunneling through his hair to hold him right there. “That feels so
damned good.”

Wrapping an arm around my back and the other behind my knees, he lifts, then lays me onto a soft bouncing bed in one smooth motion.

“You sure you want this here, now?” he asks, rising above me, blocking the spray of water from my breasts, his eyes hooded and his hair mussed from my hands.

“In thirty minutes, I can have you comfortable in my bed.”

He’s so beautiful that my heart actually hurts from just looking at him.

“Now.” My hands stroke his wide shoulders and down the relic that winds from his jaw to his forearm.

“Now,” he agrees. There’s nothing practiced or polished about the next
kiss, it’s all need sweetened with a desperation that matches my own, and
all the hotter for it.

This is exactly what I need, to be pressed between his hard body and a warm bed, devoured with the same urgency I feel for him.

His hand skims down my curves, following the dip of my waist before skimming my waistband and undoing the buttons of my pants one by one.

There’s no hesitation in his touch when his fingers delve and stroke from my entrance to my clit.

My back arches and I gasp with white-hot pleasure.

“Even hotter than I remember.” His mouth moves down my neck, overwhelming me with sensation as his fingers tease with featherlight touches.

“Fuck, you feel like silk. Hot, slick silk.” His voice has that rough rasp to it that I’ve missed.

He moves lower to worship my breasts with his mouth, his teeth raking lightly over my nipple with the perfect amount of friction to build the pleasure coiling tight within me.

Of course he knows what I like. This isn’t
our first time. It’s not going to be our last, either.

Energy swells under my skin and builds as he circles my swollen clit, denying me the pressure I need.

“Sebastien,” I beg, my nails biting into the tops of his shoulders, but I’m careful not to brush his new scar from the operation.

Every stroke of his fingers and flick of his
tongue feels like a jolt of lightning through my system, electrifying every nerve until I’m a hypersensitive bowstring drawn too tight but not tight enough.

“I know exactly what you want”—he skims my clit..“and what you need.” Two fingers slide inside me. Deeper. Closer. More. That’s what I need.

“Then give it to me,” I demand, my hips rolling. “I’ve waited forever to touch you.”

My breaths come in ragged pants and moans, and my skin flushes, heat prickling as he builds the aching pressure with tighter, faster strokes.

“Gods, look at you. You are all I’m ever going to want. Just you. Just this. Just us.” His voice curls around my mind until he’s all I see, all I hear, all I feel and think. He’s everything, watching me like he thinks the same about me.

“I need you.” Maybe need isn’t the right word, but there’s no other term that captures how essential he is to my existence.

I shove my thumbs into the waistband of my pants and push. I need them off, now.

“Same.” We’re a frenzy of questing hands and mouths as we struggle out of the rest of our clothes.

I have a whole new reason to curse these
shoes, but Sebastian makes quick work of them, stripping me bare.

I ghost my lips over the scar on his arm, more than aware of how close I came to losing him, and our child, and then he’s over me again, bracing his weight on his forearms, his eyes studying mine with an intensity that makes me shiver with anticipation as he settles between my thighs.

Reaching between our bodies, I wrap my fingers around him, bringing the head of his cock to my entrance.

I’ll die if he makes me wait any longer.
I won’t survive another breath without him inside me.

“I need you more, Layla.” He cradles the side of my face and rolls his hips, pushing inside, stretching me as he consumes those first sensitive inches.

“However much you think you need this, need me, I need you more.” He thrusts, filling me with one long drive, until he’s so deep that my eyes flutter closed, and I moan with the sublime pleasure.

There’s nothing like this in the world. I’m sure of it.

“So. Fucking. Good.” He echoes my thoughts with a groan, and then he’s moving, withdrawing only to slam home again and again, stealing my stuttered breaths with kiss after kiss.

The bed at my back gives me the leverage to arch into his thrusts, taking him deeper.

It’s too much, too good, and not enough all at the same time.

Each powerful stroke has me greedy for more. This is where I want to exist, with him above me, moving inside me, his focus totally, completely mine. “Harder. Deeper.” I’m breathing too hard to speak.

“Don’t treat me like I’m breakable.”

“I know exactly how much you can take.” He slides his hands under me, then holds me to his chest as he rises, pivoting to sit on the edge of the bench.

My cry echoes in the room as I sink onto him, my knees anchoring on either side of his hips, and he hits that sweeter, deeper angle that steals my breath. “Yes. There. Geez, I feel you everywhere.”

“Right where we left off.” His hands shift to my ass. “With you riding me.”

I wind my arms around his neck and smile against his mouth. No one is coming through those doors to interrupt us this time.

There’s only the sound the AC machine beside us and our bodies coming together again, and again, our hearts pounding, breaths strained between long, drugging
kisses.

Reality narrows to sensation, the exquisite feel of his chest against my breasts, his mouth worshipping mine, his cock filling every inch I have, stretching me for more.

The pressure coiling in my core is so tight, the pleasure so sweet I can taste it. It vibrates through me.

“More,” he growls. “I want everything, Layla.”

“You have it.” His stubble scrapes my palms as I cup his face and kiss him.. I know he has me.

He knows how my body reacts, knows
exactly how to push me to the breaking point, and he has me covered when
I exploded.

I love him. I love him. I love him. I’m not ready to give him the words, the power that comes with them, but I can keep them for myself, chant them like my own personal Codex, the only truth I’m certain of.

His body tightens beneath mine, his thrusts coming harder as he curls an arm around me, hooking my shoulder and pulling me into every thrust.

That spiraling pressure arcs to a breaking point, and I fight, holding it at bay. Not yet. I want more. Fuck, I want to feel like this every minute of every day for the rest of my life.

“Let go.” He shifts his angle, rubbing against my clit with the next thrust.

“I don’t want it to end.” I can hear the note of panic in my voice, the sharp note of fear that this will be the only time I feel like this, the only time he’s mine.

But the waves are coming closer with every roll of our hips, and my muscles tighten to the point of locking.

“Layla.” His hand slides from my shoulder to the back of my neck, fisting in the long strands of my hair as he looks into my eyes like he can see straight to my soul.

“I can’t give this up. I won’t give you up. Now let go.”

My thighs tremble, and at the next thrust, I fracture with a cry. All I can do is hold on to Sebastian and ride the pressure out, bliss flooding my body until I’m too limp to rock back against him.

“Perfect.” His restraint vanishes in an instant. Gone are the measured, precise thrusts.

He growls into my neck and drives wildly with his hips, consuming me with abandon, and I realize that this is what I craved beyond anything else, even beyond his secrets, his loss of control.

I want to be the only person he unravels for.

Holding on to his shoulders, I push back into every thrust, swiveling my hips and savoring the shout he lets loose when he finally shudders beneath me. My heart races as I grin.

“Fuck.” His forehead rests against mine, our chests heaving as we fight to catch our breath.

“Just when I think I can handle you, I completely fucking lose it.”

“That’s my favorite part.”

“Why does that not surprise me?” He brushes his lips over mine, and he locks his arms around me, keeping me from melting off his lap. “Death of me, I swear.”