Page 68 of So This Is Love

Bryce places kisses down my neck eliciting another moan from me.

“If you don’t want this I need you to tell me now,” he says, his lips close to my ear, giving me an out if I want it.

I don’t.

I press my ass back into him, grinding against his hardness.

“Fuck, Laila,” Bryce breathes.

He lifts my skirt and yanks my panties down. I hiss at the intrusion as he pushes into me, the shock of the intrusion quickly turning into a moan of pleasure. He strokes me slowly at first, giving me time to adjust before his pace quickens.

“Is this what you wanted?” Bryce asks, pulling nearly all the way out before plunging himself deep into me again. “For me to be fucking this pretty pussy.”

I can’t answer, unable to form a coherent thought as he continues stroking me, the feel of his dick causing my pussy to clench. I feel his hand come to my hair, taking a handful and tugging my head back.

“I asked if this is what you wanted,” Bryce says, his voice rough.

“Yes,” I gasp.

“Good girl.”

This orgasm comes without warning, rippling through me and causing my body to jerk. Bryce follows soon after, spilling into me with a groan.

I brace myself against the railing catching my breath while Bryce adjusts himself back into his pants.

Bryce places a soft kiss to my shoulder before he reaches down to pull my panties the rest of the way down my legs, helping me step out of them. He bends down and picks them up, sliding them into his pants pocket.

“You won’t be needing those anymore,” he says. “Let’s go get you cleaned up before dinner.”

23

Laila

The moments leading upto interacting with my mother always leave me feeling like there’s a weight attached directly to my chest. A heavy, try to clear your throat but it doesn’t ease the pressure, kind of weight. The kind that I have to decompress from after the interaction is done.

I have been avoiding her calls for weeks, partially because I have so much going on in my own life, and also because I wasn’t in the mood to play personal ATM for all her needs. But a few days ago she texted me saying that we should get lunch to catch up and reluctantly I agreed.

I have that heavy feeling now as I wait for her at the restaurant and wish I had never agreed in the first place. I have just decided on ordering a peach bellini when my mother arrives at the table. I stand and hug her, a quick small pat on the back that doesn’t really give any affection at all.

“How are you?” I ask as we pull apart.

“I’m fine,” she replies. “The parking situation here is dreadful. If I had known, I would have said for us to choose another restaurant.”

“Oh I wouldn’t know,” I reply with a shrug. “I usually take the train, but their food is really good.”

Our waitress comes to our table a few moments later, setting down a carafe of water and taking down our drink orders before darting away again to give us more time to look over the food menu.

We scan our menus quietly. I’ve been here a few times but I still like to look to see what new things have been added to the menu even though I always get the same thing, shrimp and grits.

Despite the growing lunch crowd, our food and drinks come out relatively quickly and it gives us something else to focus on other than the strained small talk.

“You look so much prettier when you wear your hair down instead of up like that,” my mom says, flipping her own long straightened strands over her shoulder.

I had dragged my feet getting ready this morning, wishing that I hadn’t agreed to brunch and could spend more time with Bryce instead. I procrastinated so much that instead of taking the time to fix my curls and make them look nice, I used a scrunchie and some gel to pull my hair up into a messy bun.

“There’s nothing wrong with my hair, it’s just up in a bun.”

“Yes, but you should always show the best version of yourself when you’re out and about, especially since you’re single. You never know who you might run into.”

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