Page 83 of Beautiful Thing

Clueless to the battle in my head, Layla is busy using my distraction to her advantage. Her palms are sliding down my torso and in the blink of an eye, she’s pushed me against the vanity and—I shit-eth thee not—she’s on her knees.

My eyes widen in shock. “What are you doing?” I groan, trying to fight off the renewed wave of arousal that’s now rising in me.

“What do you think I’m doing?” she sasses back from where she’s now crouched in front of me.

“You don’t have to do anything for me tonight.” I reach for her, trying to hook my hands beneath her arms and pull her to her feet. She has nothing to prove to me. After a long day and a hard-hitting orgasm, I know she must be exhausted.

She just scoffs, pushing my hands away then reaching for my cock. “You must be crazy if you think I’m walking out of here without tasting you tonight. And I’m definitely not leaving you to deal with this monster in the shower all by your lonesome.” Her eyes fixate on my shameless erection.

Before I can talk reason to her, those rosy lips pucker against the spongy head of my erection in a soft kiss, smearing my precum against her perfect mouth.

And fuck all my objections. Her mouth feels so fucking good.

I watch the trajectory of her tongue as she cleans the juices away from my crown. “Admit that you want this,” she demands.

I grind out her name in stern warning even as my eyes flutter with pleasure. “Layla.”

She leans in and licks her tongue up one side of my rod like an ice cream cone. “No,” she says stubbornly. “You constantly put my needs before yours. Tonight, for once, I want you to admit that you want me to take care of you, to please you, to make you come.”

This time, her mouth engulfs my entire crown, giving it a long, slow suck. She pulls back, my eyes seeing stars and her lips making a popping sound.

My fingers stroke through her hair as she kneels on the floor before me. I’m quickly losing this argument. I’m not sure I mind.

“Don’t be noble tonight, Archer. Be selfish. Use my mouth to feel good.”

“Holy shit…” I rasp out, stroking a finger pad along the edge of her dewy bottom lip.

She sucks my finger into her mouth, looking up at me with hooded, pleading eyes.

I’ve never been good at denying Layla anything she needs. And right now, she needs me to let her suck my cock.

Collapsing against the vanity, I pull my finger from her mouth with a command. “Open.”

A wicked smile unfolds across her face. Then her lips part for me.

I take my erection in one hand and guide it toward her. Fingers covering mine, she eagerly clutches my shaft with both hands.

Her lips surround my crown again, slowly lowering down my length. She doesn’t stop until I feel it hit the back of her throat.

“Goddamn,” I hiss out.

Layla pulls back, slowly dragging her mouth to the tip before swallowing my length again. She repeats the process, her fingers holding me firmly at the base.

She does it again and again and again. Picking up speed. Until she’s going wild.

I know I should control myself. But I’m going wild, too. My hips start moving on their own, thrusting against her face.

Layla grabs hold of my ass as I slam into her. Fuck. That only makes me more feral. I clutch onto her hair, riding her mouth as she groans and gags and shows me she wants more.

“Good grief. Am I hurting you?” I grunt out. “I’m hurting you.”

Layla releases me, just long enough to look up with blurry eyes and saliva smearing her chin. “I can handle it, Archer. I want it. Don’t hold back.” She dives right back in.

This is better than any fucking dream I’ve ever had. Layla, on her knees, devouring my cock like I never imagined she’d be capable of.

I can’t remember ever feeling this needy, this desperate, this furiously reckless.

I try—and fail—to slow the relentless drive of my hips. “I can’t…hold back,” I rasp out, “I can’t hold back, Layla. I’m going to…”

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