“I want you to take me to your music room.” She forks her fingers into my hair, scraping her nails along my scalp the way she knows I like it.
I groan and my hips jerk forward, rubbing myself against her thigh. “Say please.” Fuck, she’s got me so worked up my voice sounds weak in my own ears.
Her hand slides down and grips my hard-on. “You first.”
“Dammit, woman.” I push up and do a quick rearrangement of my pants for comfort then scoop a satisfied-looking Layla off the bed. “You’re learning all my tricks, beating me at my own game.”
She giggles and buries her head into my neck. “So punish me.”
“Fuckin’ hell, now she’s asking to be punished, as if I wasn’t already about to explode.” I growl and move out of our room and down the hallway to the one room in the house that has always been locked . . . until Layla. I kick the door open, flick on the lights, and bring her to the worn leather couch.
The smell of maple, birch, and mahogany soothes my nerves, and the view of my woman, flushed with arousal and need, stirs my blood. I shut and lock the door then turn toward her. She leans back on the couch, her tiny shorts and tank top showing off a healthy portion of her swollen belly.
I move to stand at her feet and glare down at her. “Up.”
“Up?” She scopes the area, almost as if she’s wondering where else there is to make love if we’re not doing it on the couch.
I nod and offer her my hand, knowing that it’s not easy for her to push herself to standing. Once she’s up, I turn her around, gripping her hips firmly until she presses her ass against my dick.
Yeah, now she gets it. There are only a few positions that are comfortable for her at this stage in pregnancy, and luckily they’re all my favorite ones. Then again, every position with Layla is a favorite.
My hands run from her hips around to her belly. I rest my chin on her neck, and she tilts her head, inviting my lips. There’s a small strand of hair in the way, so I blow gently to gain access to her sweet skin. She shivers in my arms and my dick jumps.
After I spend a short time on her neck, her ass rubbing against me, her hands dip beneath my pants and she digs her fingernails into my ass. Need rides me hard, and I tug at the tender flesh of her neck with my teeth.
I suck deep and hard at her neck as if I could ingest her goodness and love. Like a starving man, I gorge myself and know that nothing the world can offer will ever satisfy me as she does.
Moving down her body, I drop to my knees behind her, pulling her shorts down to her ankles. I don’t have to ask; she freely steps out of them and I toss them aside.
At eye level with her ass, I groan at how fucking perfect she looks. The curve of her hips and round globes of her cheeks are fuller now, and my teeth tingle to sink into the soft flesh. Might have to keep her pregnant all the time.
I lick my lips before placing a kiss on her backside. She drops her head forward; her hands cover mine, which are on her hips.
“Knees on the couch.” My command is low and throaty, and she shivers in response as she does what I ask.
Kneeling on the couch, she leans forward to place her elbows on the back. The visual is almost too much to take, and I stare for several seconds to commit the view to memory.
“Hell, Mouse . . . never seen anything so beautiful in my whole life.”
She ducks her chin, and I know this must be hard for her. She’s mentioned how self-conscious she is with all the changes her body is going through. If only she could see herself through my eyes.
I run my hands up the front of her thighs and around to her ass, preparing her for my attention. “Arch your back, baby.”
She does, giving me all the invitation I need. I dip down and kiss her between her legs. Long and deep, I use my tongue to blaze a trail that I plan to soon follow with my dick.
She walks her knees wider and presses back into my lips. Every lap of my tongue, nip of my teeth, and slide of my mouth has her moaning and moving against me. Words fall from her lips in jumbled strings, and if I weren’t so lost in her taste, I might’ve grinned.
“Don’t stop . . .” Her hips roll as she works herself against my face.
Aw, fuck, my stomach tightens with the building orgasm that is sure to end all orgasms.
I pull back and she whimpers loud.
“Shhh, baby.” I stand and align myself with her. “I’ve got you.”
“Blake, hurry.” She leans her forehead on the back of the couch, pushing herself out to me.
Slowly, I nudge my way in, and my jaw falls loose at the overwhelming feeling, the awe-inspiring sight, and the sensory overload that is sliding inside Layla. No matter how many times I do it, it never ceases to rock me to the core. Her tiny body, so in tune with mine, nothing has ever felt like a coming together of mind, body, and soul like making love to her.