Page 66 of I Still Love You

She tenses at my impolite words, but something tells me she enjoys it with the way she presses back into me. Her pussy is pretty. Perfection, if you ask me, and she deserves to know it.

I want—need—it strangling my cock, sliding up and down me until neither of us can get a grip.

“Why would I…” her words fall away as my fingertips dance along her skin, inching closer and closer to her nipple. She lifts her hand. Over her shoulder, I watch as the fabric tumbles low like it did in the hall.

I grasp her breast, noting the way she moans. “Should I stop?” I faintly ask, groaning internally because fuck, I don’t want to.

She hums and angles her head to the side, offering space for my head to dip down and press a kiss to her shoulder. “No.”

“But I should, shouldn’t I? I told you I needed space, and look at me,” I growl, “putting my hands on you. This isn’t why I brought you here tonight.”

“I know.”

I lose it, biting at her neck and swooping my tongue over her skin. “It would be wise for us to walk away, considering our history.”

“You’re right,” she rasps, whimpering when I pinch her nipple. “It would be.”

I trail a line of kisses up the curve of her neck, stopping to suck her earlobe into my mouth and sink my teeth into it. “Tell me to stop, Layla.”

We’re already toeing the line, but fuck, it’s been so long since we’ve been together. Since I’ve had her. I want to feel the slickness of her heat again. I need it. Need her.

“Don’t stop,” she breathes out.

I smirk against her skin, murmuring, “That’s not the answer I was looking for.”

“If you wanted a certain answer, then you should’ve let me leave when I wanted to.”

Fair enough.

“Don’t say I didn’t give you an out,” I tell her before demanding, “Hike up your dress.” Taking a step back as she gathers the fabric, I pull my arms through my suit jacket and toss it over a nearby chair. She spins, holding the gathered material just low enough to prevent me from seeing the part of her I want most. I jerk my thumb to the ceiling. “All the way up.”

Fire burns in her eyes at my demand, and I fucking love it. “Lean back on the table and run your finger over yourself. Let’s see how wet you are.”

She lifts her ass on the conference table, one of her feet finding the arm of a nearby chair. The other dangles off to the side, helping her to spread wide enough for me to see all of her. “It won’t take me long,” she murmurs shyly.

“Did it ever when it came to me?”

The corner of her mouth lifts sheepishly. I want to say there’s no reason to be shy, baby. We both know we had robust appetites for one another. Hell, just looking at one another used to be foreplay for us. Now is no different.

She glides her finger along her slit, and the pull in my groin begs to be satiated. I drag a chair from the table, prop it in front of her, and sit down, fully aware of the charity dinner that’s going on beyond the doors of the room. All I care about is Layla. When she came back to Quaint, I promised myself I wouldn’t allow her presence to knock me off my feet, but here I am, unbuckling my pants and fisting my cock at the sight of her.

My teeth grind in anticipation when I catch sight of the skinny path of hair above her clit. It extends north, reaching for her belly button, and is new since the last time I saw her. I tug at my cock, twisting and pulling the tight skin over my head. I lower my free hand and tug on my balls. I can see the glisten of her wetness, and I’m so close to pushing to my feet and taking her against the table that it’s painful. But I want to draw this out as long as I can.

“Fuck yourself with your finger.”

Her middle finger languidly glides over her swollen bud, then moves down, down, down until she fills her pussy. With lips slightly parted, she moans, her eyes fluttering from the sensation.

“How wet?”

“You want to know? Come feel for yourself.”

Fuck. I can’t get enough of her. Enough of this. Any man who wouldn’t want to worship her body is a fucking dumbass. I’m practically dying to get my hands on her, to lick up her stomach and take her nipples in my mouth, to feel her come on my tongue, to have her slide over my cock and squeeze an orgasm from my balls.

“Get over here.”

Rebellion twinkles in her blue eyes. “Why?”

I quirk a brow, my eyes flicking back down to her open legs. “I think you know why. I want you on top of me. Now get your tight ass over here before I make you take my cock on that table.”

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