“Nothing, baby,” he muttered. “Nothing has ever felt like you. Fucking Christ, this is . . .” He gasped as the first tremors of orgasm shafted deep into his body—balls and belly and heart. He couldn’t believe it. He didn’t have the time or the breath to doubt it.
“God, Duff, you feel so good. So damn good. Oh, yes, just like that. More, please, please. Yes . . .”
She threw her head back, her sweet inner flesh shivering around him. And he felt her begin to come, that tightening and loosening, then tightening again, the heated clench of her climax.
“Duff! Ohhhhhhhhh . . .”
He fell over the edge with her, keen and sweet and so intense he could barely breathe through the pleasure. A cry was ripped from his throat, and he growled against her long, lovely neck.
“Ahhhhhh . . . Yeah, fucking amazing, my baby. Yes! Ah, yeah!”
He bucked into her—couldn’t stop. And she moved with him in some mad dance of desire and satisfaction and rippling tremors of scorching heat. Eventually, their bodies slowed, but still pleasure coursed through him, slow and undulating, like a serpent in his veins. And it was like shivers and candy. Like rain and darkness. Like nothing he’d ever felt before. Because it was her. Her. And that was the important part.
Leaning into her, he pressed his cheek to hers. “Good Christ, Layla. You are the most amazing woman I’ve ever known. Do you know that? Do you know how much I need to be with you?”
She let out a small sob, and he thought he’d said too much. But then she grabbed his face in both hands and held on tight. “Duff. Don’t tell me that unless you mean it. Unless it’s more than how intense the sex is. Don’t tell me unless . . .”
“Layla. I mean it. I mean every fucking word. I do. Do you not feel the same way? Why are you so upset?”
“Maybe because I think I do feel it. And I’m sort of not sure what to do with it.”
He drew back and held her face between his palms, looking into her eyes. “You only think you do? Seriously, woman?”
“That was a figure of speech. I do feel the same.” Her face sobered suddenly. “What if we screw this up?”
“Let’s try really hard not to.”
He laid his palm over her chest, where her heart was thundering. He kept it there, his forehead pressed to hers, until her heartbeat evened out.
“Okay?” he asked, pulling back to lock her gaze with his, to make sure she really was all right.
She nodded. “Okay.”
“Right,” he agreed. “So, can I bring you flowers and shit now?”
She cracked a smile. “Let’s not take it that far.”
He leaned in and kissed her hard enough to bruise her. Hard enough to make his own lips ache. Then, pulling back, he told her, “Just for that you’re getting flowers every damn day from now on.”
She laughed. “No flowers. Just this. And spank me once in a while.”
“Are you kidding? I’ll fuck you right through the wall, then take my lovely wand to you. That’s what made you fall for me, after all.”
“Hmm. You might be right about that.”
“As I often am.”
“I hate to say it, but you’re right about that, too. Which I’m sure you’ll never let me forget.”
He bent and kissed her plush mouth, then lifted her hand and kissed her palm over and over. “I’ll never let you forget how I feel about you.”
“Promise?”
When he glanced up, he saw how serious she was.
“Promise me, Duff?” she asked again.
“I promise. Yeah, I do. Come here now, princess. I need to do this again.”
She laughed, a lovely sound. “Already?”
“Always. You’ve turned me into an animal.” He growled and nibbled her ear. Then a thought struck him. “Fuck. Layla, we didn’t use anything.”
“Oh. Shit. But . . . I really don’t think we have to worry—it’s not the right time in my cycle. Okay?”
He shifted and let his softening cock slip from her body. “Damn it. I’m always so careful. I swear it. I’m clean—got tested two weeks before we got together.”
“So am I. I’m sure it’s fine. It was just once, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Anyway, you just told me you need to be with me and you’re going to bring me flowers, and now I need to be held, like a regular girl.”
He wrapped her up in his arms, holding on tight. “You are a regular girl, you know, except there’s nothing ‘regular’ about you. You’re amazing.”
She didn’t respond, other than by snuggling into him, her head buried in his neck. And nothing had ever felt better than holding her. The warmth of her skin. Every sensuous curve of her body against his.
Except that she was right. Despite him having reassured her, this was bound to get fucked up. Only, he would be the one most likely to make that happen.
Buck up, man. Do it right, whatever it takes.
It was the first time he’d told himself that. He’d only ever given it a halfhearted try before, and he knew it. But he couldn’t do that with Layla. This was the real thing—the real goddamn thing. He had to get it right, finally.
? ? ?
IT WAS A Monday morning and Duff had just kissed her good-bye and left for work. She usually hated Mondays, but she’d spent the last few days with ideas nagging at the back of her mind, things that had felt too complicated to talk to Duff about. She was dying to talk to Kitty, but it was only eight o’clock, and it was her friend’s day off. She tried to busy herself by blasting Amy Winehouse while cleaning her kitchen, but soon enough the counters were sparkling, the sink had been scrubbed, and her mind was busier than ever. Sitting down with her second cup of coffee at the small wood table in a corner of her tiny kitchen, she brooded.