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My legs are trembling, my ass pushed up in the air as he fucks me, and I can’t stop thinking about how much I want him. I want him to ruin me, to destroy me, to make me completely his.
“Look at me,” he whispers, his hand cupping my cheek, turning my chin to the side so I can see him. His shaft moves in and out of me so slowly, his eyes burning into mine. “Look at me, Laila.”
I open my eyes, my lips parting as he continues to fuck me. His eyes never leave mine, and I feel his cock moving inside me, claiming me as his. I’m helpless beneath him, and the more he fucks me, the more I want him. The pleasure is so acute, so sharp, that it hurts, and I know we’ll never go back to what we were before. All these weeks have been leading up to this moment, to where we finally give in to each other. It was always inevitable.
We were always inevitable.
He picks up his pace, his cock pounding into me, his grip on my hips punishing. I’m crying out, my head falling forward, and he leans down so I can feel his hot breath on my neck as he fucks me.
“You’re going to come for me again, aren’t you, love?” he whispers, his lips moving over my skin, his fingers slipping between my legs until they find my clit.
“Please,” I whimper. “Please, James.”
He growls and slams into me, one big hand tight on my hips.
“That’s it, love,” he murmurs, kissing my neck. “Give it all to me.”
I am. I’m giving it all to him. Everything I have right now is his to take, and I can only hope I can trust him with it this time.
“Oh god,” he says through a groan, thrusting up deeper, his skin slapping against me. “You feel so good wrapped around me.”
“Yes,” I moan, my vision going blurry, my body on fire. It’s too much, too intense. “Fuck.”
“Come on, love. Come on my cock.”
He’s fucking me faster now, his hips slamming into mine, his cock so deep inside me I’m sure I’ll feel him tomorrow.
He brings his mouth to my ear, his breath hot against my skin as he whispers, “Come for me, Laila.”
He knows all the right things to say.
I can feel his cock rubbing against my G-spot, and with a couple of hard thrusts, I’m done for. Pleasure rips through me, a firestorm of heat and light, and I can’t stop myself from coming, the orgasm ripping through me like a hurricane hell-bent on destroying everything in its path.
I hear him cry out my name, and the knowledge that he’s coming for me sends me over the edge again, pleasure pulsing through me, my pussy clenching around his cock, my body shaking, unraveling, his name like a prayer on my lips.
He’s still inside me, his cock twitching, when he falls on top of me, and I can feel his heart pounding against my back. He wraps his arms around me, kissing my neck, his lips moving over my skin, and I’m lost in a sea of pleasure while he pulls out, leaving me shaking and bereft.
I collapse onto my stomach and look at him. He’s lying on his side, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath. He looks at me, and I see the satiety fade from his eyes, quickly replaced with concern.
“Are you okay?” he whispers, reaching forward to cup my face, his palm damp and warm with sweat.
I try to swallow, tears springing to my eyes, my heart sinking deeper and deeper until I’m not sure how I’ll ever rescue it again. “I don’t think I’ll ever be okay again,” I whisper, my eyes closing, my tears spilling over my cheeks. “I am so broken.”
He doesn’t say anything, just gathers me into his arms and holds me close, letting me cry until I have nothing left. And then he kisses me, his lips soft and gentle on mine, and I know that even though I’m broken, I’m not alone.
At least not at this moment.
“Laila love,” he whispers to me, stroking my hair. “You’re not broken. You’re just a little bruised. We all are.”
“It hurts more than I can bear,” I manage to say, closing my eyes. “I thought because I’ve been through this before, when I lost my parents, that I would know what to expect. I thought because my grandmother was old, that she had dementia and we knew this end would one day come, that it would make all of this easier. That I could handle it. But I can’t. I can’t handle it at all,” I sob into him. “It hurts so much.”
He holds me even tighter. Time passes, but whether it’s passing fast or slowly, I don’t know. I feel the world has condensed itself into this room and there’s nothing else out there for me.
Just James.
Someone I’m falling for, the man I’m letting in past all the guards and walls, into my inner courtyard where the real me resides. The irony that he’s the last person I trust isn’t lost on me.
I’ve almost fallen asleep when I hear him say faintly, “I’m so sorry.”
