4. Can I touch you?

Chapter 4

Layla’s POV

“I—I-ah” I stammered, unable to utter a word or even cover myself.

His dark eyes didn't snap away in politeness. Instead, they darkened instantly, dropping down from my shocked face to slowly, deliberately rake over every single inch of me.

He looked at the heavy weight of my chest, the way my nipples were tight from the cold air, down to the neat, bare skin of my pussy, and all the way down the lush, heavy span of my legs before dragging his gaze all the way back up to my eyes.

A heavy, visible shudder went through his chest.

His jaw tightened so hard the muscle ticked, and his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard.

The shopping bags slipped from his fingers, hitting the carpeted floor with a soft thud.

He didn't apologize or turn around.

Instead, he took a slow, heavy step toward me, his intense, predatory focus never leaving my face.

The sheer, unadulterated lust radiating off him was a physical force, pinning me to the floor as he closed the distance between us, his tall, commanding frame looming over me until the clean, expensive scent of his cologne completely erased the smell of the hotel soap.

He stopped just inches away, his breath hot against my wet skin.

He reached up, his large, warm hand trembling slightly as his rough fingers gently cupped the side of my face, his thumb tracing the exact line of my cheek that Wyatt had ridiculed less than two hours ago.

“Girl,” he rasped, his voice dropping into a deep, gravelly register that made a violent, wicked shiver shoot straight down between my thighs.

His large hand came up, his thick, veiny fingers hovering just a millimeter away from the wet skin of my jawline.

“You’re so perfect… Can I?”

Can I, what!?

My mind spun, a frantic alarm bell telling me to push him away, to remember that I was a broken mess, that I didn't even know his name.

But before my lips could form a single word of protest, his head tilted, and his mouth claimed mine.

His mouth claimed mine with a fierce, bruising hunger that knocked the remaining air straight out of my lungs.

It wasn't a tentative kiss, it was a dominant, deeply possessive declaration.

His large hands slid down to my waist, his fingers digging firmly into the soft, full flesh of my hips, pulling my wet, naked front flush against his dry, expensive clothes.

“Ahh—” A soft, involuntary whimper escaped the back of my throat, and he used the moment to deepen the kiss, his tongue sliding past my teeth with a smooth, practiced heat that made my knees turn to water.

My hands, entirely acting on their own, came up to clutch at the rolled-up sleeves of his shirt, my fingers gripping the hard muscle of his forearms just to stay upright.

He groaned into my mouth, the sound low and primitive, his hands moving restlessly over my back, tracing the line of my spine before cupping the heavy fullness of my ass, lifting me slightly into him.

He kissed me like he was starving, his lips parting mine over and over, devouring me with a passion that made my entire body vibrate with an intense, overwhelming lust.

He broke the kiss for a fraction of a second, his hot breath panting against my wet cheek as his lips dragged down the sensitive skin of my neck, his stubble scraping deliciously against my flesh.

“Whoever made you cry tonight is a fucking bastard,” he muttered roughly against my skin, his hands gripping my curves tighter, molding me against his frame as if he wanted to sink right into me.

“You are magnificent. Do you hear me? You’re so fucking beautiful.”

Before I could say another word he lifted me up without groaning.

He walked close to the table and dropped me there, standing in between my laps, his big body crowding me until I could feel the heat pouring off him through his clothes.

My bare ass hit the cool surface and I shivered, thighs spreading open around his hips because there was nowhere else to go.

I knew I should push him the fuck away, tell this stranger to back the hell off, that my life had just exploded ten minutes ago and letting some random man touch me right now was the dumbest shit I could do.

But his eyes were locked on mine like he wanted to eat me alive and something in my brain just melted, turned to hot mush, left me sitting there with my soaked pussy already clenching around nothing, dripping onto the fancy table wood.

His rough hands came up fast, his palms sliding heavy over my full tits, and he clamped his thick fingers right onto my nipples, pinching them hard, rolling and twisting until the sharp sting shot straight down to my cunt like electricity.

“Ahhh fuck!” The moan tore out of me loud and shaky, my head falling back so fast my wet hair slapped against my shoulders.

My nipples were already tight and aching from the cold air and all the crying, so sensitive that every squeeze made my pussy leak more, thighs trembling around him.

He leaned in without saying shit, mouth hot and wet as he sucked one nipple deep between his lips, tongue lapping at it rough while his teeth scraped the swollen tip.

I shuddered hard, a full body shake that made my heavy tits jiggle against his face, and my hands shot up on their own, grabbing the back of his head, fingers twisting in that salt-and-pepper hair as I pulled him tighter.

Fuck, what am I doing, this is crazy, but his mouth feels so good I don’t want him to stop.

He switched to the other nipple, sucking harder, spit running down the curve of my tit and dripping onto my belly while he groaned against my skin, the vibration making me whimper.

“Oh shit yes, like that—” I gasped, back arching, pushing my chest into his face because it felt too good to think straight.

He popped off with a loud wet smack, his lips shiny with his own spit, and crashed his mouth onto mine, kissing me deep and nasty, tongue shoving in like he was already fucking me.

I could taste myself on him, faint and salty, and it made my cunt throb worse.

His hands stayed on my tits, squeezing the soft heavy flesh, his thumbs flicking my sore nipples while we kissed sloppy, our spit mixing between our mouths, my moans spilling right into him.

I was dripping so much now the table was getting slick under my ass, my pussy lips swollen and open, aching for something to fill it.

He groaned into the kiss, low and rough, one hand sliding down my soft belly, rubbing slow teasing circles just above my mound, his fingers brushing the top of my bare pussy but not going in yet.

This man was edging me, making me wait while my hips jerked up trying to chase his touch.

He pulled back just enough to breathe, both of us panting hard, chests heaving, my spit-slick tits rising and falling against him.

His eyes were dark, pupils blown wide as he stared down at my spread cunt.

“Can I touch you?” he asked, his voice gravelly and thick, like he was barely hanging on.

I was gone, completely lost in it.

Up close he looked so fucking sexy, that strong jaw clenched, the way his chest strained under his shirt, the raw lust rolling off him in waves.

My mind screamed to slow down but my body didn’t give a shit.

I didn’t say a word, Instead I grabbed his thick wrist with both my hands, shaking, and guided his fingers straight down to my exposed, dripping pussy, pressing his fingertips right against my hot, slippery folds.

“Ahh!” A needy whimper slipped out the second he touched me, my hips bucking.

He smiled, dark and hungry, then pushed two thick fingers inside my cunt without warning, stretching me open with a filthy wet squelch.

“Fuck, you’re soaked, baby. This tight little pussy is gripping my fingers so good already,” he growled, pumping them in and out slowly and deep, curling them to hit that spot inside that made my toes curl and my eyes roll back.

“Should I stop?”

“Unghh—no, oh god don’t stop,” I moaned, my voice breaking as I rocked my hips back against his fingers, chasing every thrust.

The wet sounds were obscene, loud squelching every time he plunged in, his palm slapping lightly against my clit while juices ran down his wrist and onto the table.

My walls fluttered and clenched around his thick digits, sucking them deeper, and I could feel how messy I was getting, slick coating my thighs.

He kept fingering me harder and faster, his thumb rubbing tight circles on my swollen clit while he leaned in and kissed me again, swallowing every whimper and moan like he owned them.

My hands clutched at his shoulders, his nails digging in through his shirt, body shaking as the pressure built low in my belly.

His fingers are so much thicker than Wyatt’s ever were, stretching me just right, making me feel full and filthy and wanted.

I was melting into it, grinding shamelessly, my heavy tits bouncing with every rock of my hips, with my nipples still shiny from his spit.

Then suddenly he dropped to his knees right there on the carpet, yanking my legs up and hooking them over his broad shoulders, spreading my pussy wide open in front of his face.

What’s he doing right now!?

“Wow, this is so fresh” he murmured more to himself.