The Owner of His Heart

CHAPTER SIX





LAYLA’S mind struggled as it tried to process what was happening. Nathan’s lips were crushed to hers, his tongue inside her mouth, effectively silencing all of her questions. And even more surprising than his unexpected kiss was the way she responded to it. She’d immediately began kissing him back and flames of desire burned a path down her torso, engulfing her womb with a need so insistent it verged on pain.

“Please,” she moaned against his lips, not quite knowing what she was begging him for. “Please…”

“No,” he said, running kisses down her neck. “I’m not going to let you do this to me.”

Then, to Layla’s utter dismay, he pulled back from her, all but shoving her away from him when she tried to kiss him again. He shook his head and pointed at her, more angry than she’d ever seen him, which was saying something, since he’d pretty much stayed furious from the moment they’d re-met.

“I’m not doing this with you. I’m a grown man now. I can control myself.”

Her clothes were still on, but Layla felt naked and ashamed, standing there under his accusing glare. She had no idea why she had responded to him like that, so brazen and completely willing to give him her body with just one kiss. Humiliation washed over her in waves, freezing her to the spot.

“Get out,” he said. He pointed to the door she’d left open.

Numb to her very core, Layla gathered her purse to her chest and followed his directive, just as eager to leave the scene of their kiss as he was to have her gone. But when she tried to rush out past him, he grabbed her arm, keeping her there. And with just that touch, a bolt of electricity passed between them again. She stood very still, waiting, just waiting to see what he would do next.

“Are you wet?” he asked her. His voice sounded more feral than human at this point.

“What?” she asked, confused.

“I won’t be able to be gentle with you. If you’re not ready for me right now, then you should run and never come back.”

He was right. She should run. Send him the money she’d saved so far in the mail and then send the rest of the installments the same way, until her father’s debt to his family was paid off. But…

“The truth is I’m dripping,” she told him.

He groaned. “Layla, don’t toy with me.”

Along with being too honorable, Layla had always been honest to a fault. So she continued telling him the truth, despite her better instincts. “I can feel my panties sticking to me, I’m so wet for you.”

This time when he turned his grey gaze on her, it was hot as opposed to cold. “You’re wet. For me.”

It wasn’t stated as a question, but somehow Layla understood he was demanding a confirmation. “Yes, I’m wet. For you.”

“For me,” he said again.

“For you,” she repeated, barely able to believe these words were coming out of her mouth or that she wanted him this bad.

He let her arm go and stepped back. “Show me,” he said.

Even though he had let her go, the way he was looking at her now, like a hungry, angry animal, kept the electricity buzzing through her. “Show you?” she asked.


“Take off the lab coat.”

She took it off, her eyes glued to his as she did so.

“And your pants.”

She hesitated. Some part of her understood this would be her only chance to turn back, to lead with her brain as opposed to her throbbing womanhood. But in the end, she couldn’t ignore the strange, sweet ache that had been building up ever since she’d met this infuriating man. She kicked off her lime green crocs and pulled down her scrub pants. This left her standing there in her pale blue panties, which just as she’d said, had a large, distinctive wet spot at the crotch.

***



It took every ounce of control Nathan had not to throw her on the floor and bury himself inside her. His throat clogged with lust when she revealed her bottom half, encased in cotton panties that, unlike the black lace his lovers usually wore, did nothing to hide her desire for him. Indeed, if he had still been touching her when she took off her scrub pants, this would all be over now. He’d have rutted her like an animal in a blaze of heat and need.

As it was, he had to turn away from her to keep from coming in his pants like a boy half his age. Instead, he forced himself to think about the performance he’d seen at the Pittsburgh Opera last spring, a world premiere, by an up-and-coming German composer known for being particularly dour. The opera had been so bleak, it had put him off having sex with his date that night. What had her name been? Samantha? Sandy? Sally? Just another in the string of blondes he had dated over the years in an effort to get Layla out of his system. He tried to recall the tune of the last aria, which had been delivered in the wasteland of a bombed out city.

“Nathan?” she said behind him, her voice tentative and questioning.

“Don’t talk,” he bit out.

Perhaps sensing the state he was in, she didn’t say anything further, but he could practically hear her standing there, her sex calling out to his like a siren.

He couldn’t remember ever being this hard without getting any release. It made it difficult for him to walk over to his desk and press the button on a remote control that tinted all his office windows black, so he could see out, but no one else could see in. Then he stripped off his own clothes, forcing himself to go slow. Humming that German aria in his head, as he folded his clothes and placed them on his chair.

Last in the series of things he knew he must do before f*cking Layla Matthews within an inch of her life, was pull a condom out of the box he kept in his office drawer. He sometimes went on dates straight after work and found it prudent to pack one before leaving. But tonight, he was glad he kept an entire box at the office for other reasons. He already knew he’d need more than one before the night was over.

He ripped open the foil package with his teeth, and put the condom on before turning back to Layla.

Her eyes widened slightly and lingered on his penis. “I guess you want me, too,” she said with a nervous laugh.

But he didn’t laugh with her. The time for jokes was over. “Take off your top.”

She did what he said, but so tentatively Nathan had to draw in a mental breath. She had never known the effect she had on him. Her unstudied innocence, so intoxicating he’d found it hard not to believe he wasn’t corrupting her somehow, even though she was standing in his office wet with her own need.

“For you,” she had said. His cock pulsed again, as if it had a mind of its own and would pull itself into her vagina if it came down to it, whether he wanted it to or not.

Layla started to unclasp her bra, but he said, “No, let me.”

He stepped up to her, letting her feel his erection against her stomach as he undid her bra. Her breasts, to his surprise, weren’t as good as they had been at the age of eighteen. They were better. Bigger now, with hard nipples that begged to be suckled on. He bent his head to one and took it in his mouth, while running his thumb over the other one.

“Oh!” she said with a throaty gasp. “That feels so good. Please.”

“There’s that word again,” he said. “Please what?”

“I don’t know,” she said.

“Do you want me inside of you?” He slipped two fingers into her as he asked her this, and his cock released a bit of pre-cum when she clenched around the two digits, pulling them deeper inside of her. “Obviously, you do.”

He had thought he’d take her on the desk the first time. That, after all, had been what he fantasized about during his cold showers. But the reality of Layla was altogether different. He found himself wanting to kiss her, even more than he wanted to take her from behind. She was already close, he could feel it. And he wanted to see her face when she came. Wanted to be inside her when it happened.

He captured her lips in his and pressed her back into the closest set of windows. Then he lifted her up and in one deft movement, moved her panties just low enough to slip her wet opening onto his dick.

She was so tight, he nearly loss control of himself. “Layla.” He said her name to keep himself from coming.

She locked her ankles behind his back, her pebbled nipples sliding up and down on his chest as she moved herself against him. “Nathan,” she groaned back. “Please, please!” she keened.

That sent them both into a frenzy, moving against each other mindlessly as they both sought release. But when he felt his own climax coming, Nathan captured her face in his hand, holding her head still, with his thumb on one cheek and his four fingers on the other.

“I’m coming,” he told her, his voice a harsh grunt. “Come with me. “

He yelled out, releasing into her in a white hot explosion of pent-up desire. “Come with me,” he said again.

And she did, helplessly biting into his hand as she did so, her face the very picture of pleasure as she milked his dick with her climax.

“You’re beautiful,” he told her, when she finally came down. “So damn beautiful.”

He rested his forehead against hers and whispered, “Now let’s do it again. On my desk.”

***



Layla had been a more-than-willing participant in sex with Nathan Sinclair, but she was still trying to figure out how all of this had happened. One moment, she was demanding answers from him, the next moment she was having the biggest orgasm of her life up against his office window.

He was still inside of her when he suggested the next position be at his desk, and she found herself, against all odds, clenching around his large cock at the mere thought of him taking her again. This version of her was so out of character she could barely look him in the eye as she said, “Okay, I’d like that. Thank you.”

“Thank you,” he repeated. “This sweet girl thing you do. That makes me wild. You know that don’t you?”

“How could I?” she asked. “I don’t remember you. All I know is the very little you’ve told me…and that I dream about you.”

His eyes darkened, and he gripped her tighter around the waist. “Tell me about these dreams you’ve been having about me.”

Layla cheeks heated with embarrassment, but he kept her pinned under his intense grey gaze, prodding her into a full confession. “It’s always the same,” she said. “We’re in a window seat in a room with a bunch of books in it. You’re on top me kind of. The window seat’s not long enough for us to lay down, so I’m sitting halfway up, and you’ve got one arm braced against the wall, as you pump into me.” She finally got herself to meet his gaze. “And it feels so good.”


Something dark and dangerous flashed behind his eyes as she told him this story, and his cock swelled inside of her.

“I thought it was a fantasy, but it wasn’t, was it? It was a memory.”

He looked away from her with his jaw clenched. “I want you again, but I can’t use the same condom,” he said.

He stroked into her one more tantalizing time before pulling out and setting her back down on her now very wobbly legs. When she teetered, he caught her up in his strong arms, bringing his lips so close to hers, before stopping himself. “No, if I start kissing you, we’ll be in dangerous territory again. Come over here.”

Without warning, he swept off half the contents on his desk. “Bend over,” he said, seemingly unconcerned about all of the expensive black and chrome objects he’d sent clattering to the floor.

Without thinking, Layla did exactly as he said, laying her face against the cool metal. Her nipples pebbled all over again when they made contact.

“Stay here,” she heard him say behind her. He traced a hand down her back and she could feel his gaze lingering on the place where the curve of her hip met her behind. But all he said was “I’ll be right back.”

There were footsteps and the sound of another door—most likely to an inner office bathroom she hadn’t noticed—closing.

Layla lay there with her eyes shut, spread out like a total hussy over Nathan Sinclair’s desk. She had the rather alarming thought that she hadn’t felt this happy, or this sexy and satisfied, in as long as she could remember.

But then she opened her eyes. As it turned out, Nathan hadn’t swept everything off his desk. The computer was still there, and so were all of his picture frames, including one that held a photo of Nathan and a pretty blond, who had to be at least four inches taller and four sizes smaller than her. But that wasn’t what made Layla suddenly snap out of her lust haze and stand up. What made her gather up all her clothes, hastily throwing them on as she ran out the door, was the fact that this picture of Nathan and the blond had obviously been taken at their wedding.