Page 27 of Loco

Sayla instantly wrapped her legs around my waist, pulling me in, trying to force more of me inside faster than I was ready to give. Her heels dug into my back, urging me and chasing that connection.

But I wasn’t letting her rush this. I held steady, resisting the instinct to give in, and gripped her chin gently but firmly between my fingers, forcing her to look at me. “Slowly,” I warned, voice low and rough. “I’m not risking hurting you.”

Her breath hitched at the authority in my tone, but I didn’t wait for a reply.

To make sure she understood, I pulled almost all the way out, leaving just the tip inside, then pressed back in with a slow, controlled thrust that had both of us groaning. Again and again. Each time I sank deeper, her body adjusted, welcomed me, and stretched around me with exquisite tightness.

The urgency in her legs shifted. Now, instead of pulling, she clung. Her nails scraped lightly down my back, anchoring herself to me, hips rising to meet mine in subtle movements. And thosesounds—those soft, breathy moans and gasps—poured from her lips like she couldn’t help herself, testing every bit of my restraint.

But it was the way her body started to pulse around me—tightening, drawing me in even deeper—that broke whatever resolve I had left.

I gritted my teeth, pulled out until just the head remained, and then drove back in with a sharp, deep thrust, burying my entire length inside her.

She cried out, arching beneath me, and I growled low in my throat, the sound ripped straight from my chest. She felt like a tight, wet fist around me, gripping me like she never wanted me to leave.

“Fucking hell,” I hissed, hips rolling instinctively. I swiveled against her, pressing the base of my length against her clit, grinding just enough to make her jolt and clench around me again.

She gasped, eyes fluttering closed, lips parted, completely undone beneath me.

And I wasn’t stopping now. Apparently, neither was she.

Sayla wrapped her legs tighter around my ribs, locking me to her like she never wanted to let go. The shift in angle was perfect—her pelvis tilted up, guiding my cock right where she needed it most with every thrust. Each time I sank into her, she gripped me like velvet heat, drawing me deeper, tighter.

Christ,she always felt so damn good.

Then she did it, the one thing that shattered the last scrap of control I was holding on to. Her hand slid between us, fingersbrushing against where we were joined. She started rubbing tight, determined circles over her clit, the pressure just right, and I could feel the movement, feel the friction of her fingertips against me every time I drove into her.

I couldn’t see it—could barely make out more than the shadows of her face in the storm-dark room—but Ifeltit. And God, that was somehow even more intense. The thought of her touching herself while I was inside her, using my body to get herself off, nearly undid me on the spot.

I had just pulled back to the tip, muscles tensed, ready to thrust again, and then her fingers slid down my cock.

“Sayla!” I choked out, voice rough with shock and lust and everything else spiraling out of control.

She cried out my name in return, hips jerking beneath me as she came hard, her body convulsing around mine. Her pussy clamped down in tight, rhythmic pulses, making it damn near impossible to move—but I couldn’t stop, couldn’t hold back anymore.

The first tingle hit low in my spine, then shot like lightning down to my cock, and the orgasm ripped through me like a freight train with no brakes.

I dropped forward, catching myself just enough to keep from collapsing entirely, and somehow—thankfully—found her mouth on the first try. I kissed her deeply, hungrily, moaning into her mouth as the last waves of pleasure surged through me. Her hand moved to grasp my cock again as I stroked into her in lazy, slow thrusts, riding out every second of it for both of us.

And when it was over, when the storm inside me finally stilled, I stayed right where I was, breathing hard against her mouth,feeling the slick heat between our bodies, the sheen of sweat that had gathered on both of us despite the cold air outside.

I braced for whatever she'd say next—some joke, maybe something tender. But I wasn't prepared for what she actually whispered against my cheek.

“Why didn’t we keep warm like this before?”

I huffed out a breath, equal parts laugh and groan. Sure enough, my skin was damp, flushed with heat, and hers was the same—slick, glowing, beautiful. The storm outside might’ve killed the power, but in here, wrapped in her, I felt like we could’ve melted the whole damn blizzard.

I kissed her again, slower this time. Less heat, more meaning.

I didn’t want to pull out. I wanted to stay like this, locked together, her body wrapped around mine, her breath brushing my jaw. Eventually, I knew I’d have to move. The sweat would cool, and reality would sneak its way back in. But for now, I let myself stay, my body softening only when it was ready to.

We had things to figure out and conversations to have. Truths were still buried beneath our skin, and feelings were bottled up that neither of us had dared name.

But right now, with her heart beating under mine and the storm howling beyond the window, I didn’t care about any of that. I just wanted to exist with her in this moment and hoped to hell it would lead to something more.

Chapter 9

Sayla

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