Page 36 of False Assumptions

Chapter Sixteen

Layla’s soft breasts pressed into his chest, and Evan pulled himself off her, mindful of the fact that he might’ve crushed her when he collapsed on top of her after he came.

And shit. She hadn’t made it there with him. He’d tried, but he’d rushed through the foreplay, and she hadn’t been close enough beforehand to come with him. He’d have to make that up to her.

Pulling back, he slid out of her, his fingers gripping the condom. He leaned down and kissed her. “Sorry.”

“What for?”

He straightened, moving to the bathroom to deal with the condom. “That you didn’t finish. Gimme a sec, and I’ll take care of you.” He wanted to see her come. To be the one to make her come. It was something he enjoyed, and he prided himself on the fact that he had a ladies first policy. And he especially wanted to see Layla come. So the fact that he’d finished before her grated on him. He’d have to make her come so hard she forgot her name.

When he strode back into the bedroom, she was sitting on the bed, holding the sheets over her chest. She scrambled back a little at his approach. But he didn’t let that distract him from his mission. Tugging the sheets out of her hand, he sat next to her, kissing her again, and letting his hands roam over her, mapping her curves with his fingers.

“What are you doing?”

He looked up from where he was kissing down the side of her neck. “I told you. Making sure you finish.” If she was still talking, then he obviously wasn’t doing a good enough job. On Saturday he’d paid more attention to her breasts, so maybe he needed to start there. He returned his mouth to hers, bringing one hand up to cover her breast, his thumb running over and around her nipple, making it stiff and hard, begging to be sucked. So he did. While his other hand brought her other nipple to attention to receive the same treatment.

Sitting up, he coaxed her back down onto the bed, pulling the sheet away so he could have full access to her body. He stayed at her breasts for a while, building her up, enjoying the feel of her fingernails raking against his scalp as she clutched his head, loving the breathless gasps and sighs as he got his fill of her breasts.

When she was writhing and panting, he slid one hand down her torso to her thigh, caressing the soft skin on the inside of her leg, coaxing it to the side so he could slide his fingers through her wetness. And she was slick and soft and open for him, the sound she made when he reached her clit something he wanted to hear every day. Her hips pressed into his hand as his tongue flicked over the nipple in his mouth again and again. He got into the same rhythm he’d started the other night—dipping a finger inside her, pulling it up and circling around her clit a few times before repeating the process. Again and again as her hips bucked under his hand. He wanted to taste her, but she seemed to be enjoying his mouth on her breasts so much that he wouldn’t disrupt what he’d started, not when she was getting so close.

He sunk a finger inside her all the way, curling up to hit her G-spot, and letting his thumb take over the circles on her clit while he switched to her other nipple. Her fingernails dug into his head, and he worked his hand harder, sensing that she was right there. Her hips pressed up, a fine tremor running through her body, every muscle rigid, and he sucked hard, his thumb pressing down as his finger curled up. Clamping her thighs together, she trapped his hand and shook with her orgasm, a gasp that sounded almost surprised coming from her mouth. He kept his hand working, but pulled his head up to look at her face, wanting to see how beautiful she looked in the throes of ecstasy—her red lips open, her eyes closed and head thrown back, black hair spread out in stark contrast against the white pillow.

So gorgeous.

And all for him.

He slowed the movement of his fingers but kept them working, her body shuddering with each stroke, only stopping when her legs fell open and she pushed his hand away. Once he withdrew his fingers, she covered her face with her hands and lay there silent and still. Lying down next to her, he pulled her in close to him, caressing her side and over her belly as he waited for her to speak.

The minutes stretched out, and still she kept her hands on her face. Evan hadn’t been concerned at first—everyone had different reactions to having an orgasm, especially for the first time with a new person—but started to wonder what was going on the longer she hid behind her hands.

“Layla?”

“Hmm?” Her voice was muffled, but at least she wasn’t ignoring him.

“Why are you hiding from me?”

Her hands fell away from her face, one arm above her head, and the other down at her side, but she kept her eyes closed. “I don’t know,” she whispered.

Propping himself up with his hand under his head, he stared down at her face. “Open your eyes,” he whispered back.

She shook her head. “I don’t want to.”

He kissed her softly. “Please.”

That was the magic word. Her eyelids lifted, and she blinked up at him, her eyes still dark and languid.

“What’s wrong?”

She studied his face, her lips parted like she wanted to say something but was having trouble formulating the words. Finally, she shook her head. “Nothing. That was … amazing. I wasn’t expecting all of that, though.”

His brows drew together. “All of what?”

But she clamped her lips shut and shook her head. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does.”

Her eyelids fell closed again, shutting him out. But she answered his question. “The … care and tenderness. I just didn’t—no one’s ever—I mean, you took me by surprise is all. Not in a bad way, just … you’re not who I thought you were.”

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