Page 10 of Coming Home to My Cowboy
“Layla…” I breathe, forehead dropping to hers, fighting every instinct pulling me toward her. My fingers loosen at her waist, not letting go, but not moving either. “Sweetheart… I need a second.”
Not because I don’t want her. Because I want her too damn much.
I exhale slowly, trying to steady the pulse thundering through my veins. “I can’t… take something from you that precious unless you’re absolutely sure. And unless I can give you all of me right back.”
She lifts her hands to my face, soft and tentative, like touching something sacred. “I am sure.” A breath. A tiny, trembling smile. “It’s you.”
And God help me — everything inside me comes undone.
“Are you …” Fuck, I want her and I want to do right by her too. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, please. Please,” She whimpers. “I want you … only you.”
Her pleas aren’t wasted. I groan and kiss along her neck while hooking my fingers in her leggings. I drag them down her perfectthighs. She’s still damp, but so fucking soft. Groaning, I trace the top of her panties. She’s too much. So, fucking sinful despite how sweet she is.
I spread my hands over her thighs, slowly spreading my fingers across her. Touching her feels like damning myself, but if that’s the exchange, she’s worth it. I groan as I watch her gaze appraise me. Her fingers dance across my arms, following the raised veins that are a testament to my control.
“If you want to stop at any point …” I trail off, making sure I have her attention and that she’s not staring at my body. “All you have to do is say something.”
She trembles. “I want you in every way possible. Every way I can think of. You’re theonlyman I’ve wanted for as long as I can remember.”
That bit of vulnerability, the way her hands shake as she tries to pry her dripping bra off, the needy glint to her eyes undoes me. Grasping at restraint is like grasping at air. I kiss her hungrily, lick across her bottom lip, swirl my tongue with hers while finally freeing her ankles from the leggings. I toss them to the side and wrap her perfect thighs around me, following them up to her ass.
I grip her hard and grind her against me. Moderation is pointless. I want to have her. I want to keep being her fantasy, to be the only man that she thinks about. She grinds against me, pants my own name in my ear until I have it memorized and can’t think of anything else.
“I’ll give you everything, sweetheart,” I promise against her heart before pressing a hungry kiss there. “Everything you want. Everything you need.”
“Now,” she pants, arching against me. “Right now, Jace.”
She calls me capable, reliable, good at everything I do and I’m going to show her exactly how true that is.
Chapter 7 - Layla
I fumble with my own bra, hating that it means I’m not touching him. Jace feels so right under my fingers. The ways his muscles shift, how he’s half panting, half grunting as he uses his teeth to pull back the cups of my bra. He guides my hands back to his body, down his abs and to his jeans while he takes care of my bra.
“So, fucking beautiful. You have no idea, Layla …” he trails off on a groan, lavishing my breasts with his affection and attention. “Feeling you, touching you, it’s better than anything.”
I whimper, not sure what to say. I’ve heard about dirty talk. To tell the guy how well he’s doing, how big he is, how good he feels, but all that pales in comparison to Jace. He’s notgood, he’s excellent.
The way his fingers brush across my body makes me feel like art. I feel a kind of naughty happiness that doesn’t feel possible. I mold to his hands, welcome the push and pull of pressing my body against his or feeling more of his touch.
When he closes his mouth around my nipple and palms my other breast in his hand, my whole body threatens to levitate. “Jace!”
“Tell me what feels good, sweetheart. Tell me what you want. Tell me what you need,” he encourages.
“Everything feels so, so great. Don’t stop. Please,” I beg.
He groans and slides his hand into my panties, tracing my pussy lips, then teasing my clit. His groan vibrates across my nipple and sinks into my skin. “So wet.”
“Yes!” I yell.
He groans and gives my nipple one more lick. His eyes trace my body. “There’s no way once is going to be enough. There’s so much of you to lick, touch and enjoy.”
I squirm under him as he kisses across my belly, continuing to tease my clit with his fingers. Every touch is a new surprise, a new layer of ecstasy blanketing my body. Then he pushes one finger into me while biting my panties. He tugs at them with his teeth, then lets out a feral sound and nearly rips them off me.
As soon as I get close to giggling, he lifts me up slightly and buries his face between my legs. His satisfied groan makes my eyes roll back as much as his tongue across my clit does. He eases a second finger into me.
It hurts the smallest amount, but the pleasure when he curls his fingers is better than I’ve ever felt. I’m reduced to gasps and groans and the halo of ecstasy that comes with a fantasy coming to life in a way that shatters the fantasy. Every wet dream, every dirty fantasy falls short when compared to Jace’s fingers and his tongue.
