Page 1 of Laila Manning
Chapter 1 – Laila
His large hands gripped the backside of my thighs tightly, pushing them against my chest to open my pussy up for his hungry mouth.
“Yes.” I whimpered, thrashing my head back and forth on the bed. “Don’t stop,” I begged.
I hated begging. I hated asking for anything in life, but this man—did things to me. He reduced me to carnal needs and incomplete thoughts, leaving me begging him for more of the pleasure he promised me.
“You taste so good, Laila.” His deep baritone rough voice hummed against my clit and my back bowed involuntarily. His eyes snapped up to look into mine, and the cool blue depths of them made me feel like I was crashing into the ocean headfirst. “I can’t get enough of you.”
“I don’t want you to.” I panted. I needed him more than anything else I’d ever experienced before. I needed the calm he brought to my soul.
He took his tattooed hands off my thighs and pushed two fingers deep inside of me and curled them forward, rubbing them against my G-spot while stroking his pinky against my ass. He pushed his finger into my ass slowly, letting the saliva and wetness from my two previous orgasms coat his skin and help with the intrusion. “Damn, your ass is so tight, baby.” He cursed, sucking powerfully on my clit.
“I’m going to come!” I gasped, curling forward, and watching his mouth and fingers attack my body. It was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen before, and it was my undoing. “Yes!” I screamed and fell back onto the pillow as my brain misfired, and pleasure rocked my entire system. “Please, Zeke!” I chanted. “Please fuck me, I need more.”
He pushed another finger into my ass and kept the suction on my clit as my orgasm wrecked me, crashing through my body, and destroying me in its wake. My chest heaved as I struggled to catch my breath as his talented mouth and fingers never let up their delicious torture.
“Laila!” He panted, “Laila!” Something in his tone made me open my eyes and look down my body at him, but he was no longer lying between my legs.
Zeke was kneeling on the bed next to me, staring down with a scary and intense glare. His large hands gripped my shoulders tightly and shook me gently as I gasped.
Gone was the erotic high buzzing through my body, and in its place was fear.
“Zeke?” I whispered, suddenly unsure of what was going on.
“You were dreaming.” He said deeply, letting his eyes travel down my body where I lay twisted up in my sheets. I followed his gaze down my body and saw that my thin nightshirt hung awkwardly off my shoulder and the top of my breasts were bare to his eyes.
It was all a dream.
It was all a sex dream.
With Zeke!
I lay frozen in place as he finally slid his hands from my shoulders, and I took in his appearance. He wore nothing but a pair of tight black boxer briefs with a gun tucked into the waistband.
And tattoos.
Nearly every inch of his arms, legs, chest, and abdomen were covered in a mix of black and brightly colored ink.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, snapping my eyes back to his as the ghost of a smile kissed his manly lips while I got caught staring at his twelve-pack of abs and the deep v that disappeared beneath the thin black fabric of his briefs that hid—almost nothing.
His scowl returned as he stood up to his full height and stared down at me, I didn’t right my shirt, don’t ask me why, but I liked the way his eyes looked troubled as they flickered back and forth from my chest to my pupils. “You were screaming.” He finally said as he rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, squeezing the muscles that flexed under the colored skin. “I was worried about you.”
I pushed myself back against the headboard and awkwardly lifted my shirt onto my shoulder, covering my cleavage, cursing myself for wanting his attention at all now that he was mentioning my night terrors. “I’m sorry I woke you.” Shame filled me before curiosity took its place. “How did you–how did you get in here?”
I looked past him to the brightly lit hallway between our apartments and into his space through both open doors. It was my first glimpse of his personal living space.
“I have a key.” His deep voice rumbled, and my lips parted in surprise.
“Have you always had a key to this apartment? Or just since I started staying here?” I asked. When his eyes dropped to the bed and he didn’tanswer right away, I had my answer. “You have a key because of me, specifically.” I couldn’t help the humiliation that filled my nerves as I processed that. “Because I need to be babysat.”
“I have a key in case you need me.” he said firmly, staring back into my eyes as his brows dropped into an almost menacing scowl. “Not because you need to be babysat.”
“Right,” I whispered, and took a deep breath, pulling my blanket up to my chest to hide where my nipples poked through the forest green shirt, searching out for the man who had been doing delicious things to them in my dreams.
But it was all just a fantasy.
Not real.
