Throwing her arms around me she pushes her chest against me, her smell breasts flattening against my pecs, the softness of her mounds nurturing something deep inside of me. I watch her as she starts to lose control and she seems mortified at her reaction, making my heart clench.
Pumping in and out her, her cheeks tint at the sound of our smacking wetness, our bodies slippery and greedy and her eyes are rounded in surprise. She never thought she could feel like this? Never thought she’d be so surrendered to me?
Now she feels what I feel. I’ve surrendered to her. It’s about time she starts feeling the same.
“G...give it to me,” she whimpers, unable to get enough, “p...please...”
“Ask for it.” I throb inside of her and I can feel how close she is to breaking, I want her to break, I want her ripped in pieces and I don’t want to put her back together again. I want her to stay that way. Surrendered. Abandoned. Mine.
“F...fuck me...” she pleads and I pick up the pace.
“Louder,” I snarl because I want everyone in this house to hear her.
“Fuck me, Alec.”
I thrust harder, so hard that for a second I worry I’ll hurt her.
“Louder!” I growl and stars form before my eyes when her breasts start to bounce, jerking up and down as if picking on my attention and I dig into her nipple with my teeth.
“Fuck me, Alec!” she cries, the sound engulfing me in her femininity, pushing me toward the threshold and I feel myself about to erupt. “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me...”
Wrapping my hand around her pretty swan neck, I grasp it as if a part of me wants to squeeze the words out of her if she doesn’t say them willingly. “Tell me you love me.”
Her eyes flare and she starts sobbing before she screams, “I love you. I love you!”
Stretching her, I fill her up, fill her up to the very brink and I welcome her climax, hear her panting, watch her eyes flutter and her mouth drops from exhaustion, her arms falling down my back. I twitch a couple of times inside of her before receding and she gasps at the loss of our bodies being joined.
Slowly I remove my hand from her throat and she watches me with confused eyes. Stroking her small palms down my stomach, she lets out a defenseless mewl like she wants to scold me for taking her like this but can’t.
“Did I hurt you?” I ask with serious eyes, but she bites her lip, shaking her head.
“Will you hold me?” she whispers, making me shudder with love for her.
I hold her, I crush her to me and rock her, rock my beloved wife until the aftershocks in her body ease and I feel it. Finally I feel it. I do not share her anymore.
****
Three days pass and Lyla is different now. She is how I want her to be. Not once has she mentioned Trevor, not once has she asked me about the search or asked to join me on the meetings with the brotherhood.
She was supposed to get in touch with Ludwig and confirm their next sessions. She didn’t, she cancelled. Told him she wouldn’t be needing his services anymore. Whenever she is around me, she looks at me like she is in a trance.
Her eyes shine like she is watching something bigger than a supernova. Maybe she is watching the love of her life. I know that I am watching mine.
More than often she asks me to drive her to the studio, rather than take the metro like she usually prefers and in the car, her hand frequently rubs my neck, or my thigh and the kisses she gives me are long and hungry.
The only downside of her newfound fascination with me is that it has led to me walking around with a constant hard on. Cursing to myself, I call her up even though I know she’s probably in class but to my surprise she answers.
“You called,” she breathes and I watch her face on the camera, her eyes looking dazed and dreamy, making me feel like she is slowly peeling of my skin, shedding me down to my beating heart.
“What are you doing?”
“I got class.”
Right now I don’t care.
“I need you. Go somewhere private,” I tell her and she doesn’t protest, doesn’t make a fuss. Instead she locks herself into a bathroom stall and I close my eyes, shoving my hand down my pants. She’s wearing a short tutu and corset looking thing on top and I groan when she pulls down her stockings and lifts her tutu.
My shaft is harder than a diamond as she slowly roams the camera over her glistening folds, letting out innocent gasps as if she isn’t being a black, little swan for me. She twirls and pouts and poses, alluring me even more but when I tell her to fuck her pussy with her fingers for me, she obeys.