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That I was proud of him?

“He knew Giovanni. He knew,” she whispered, her arms tightening around me, her voice wavering as she felt the loss of my brother and the others.

The desperation in my veins, the inability to protect those I cared about, weighed heavily on me. I needed something to hold onto, cling to, and give me strength. Something tangible, something real.

Lost in my own misery, I grabbed Layla’s face and kissed her.

I kissed her hard and insistently. Her return kiss was hungry, greedy in the way it devoured my lips and tongue. Hairs stood up on my skin as I felt the surge of electricity rush through us. She broke out in goose bumps as the kiss deepened. I chewed on the juicy fullness of her bottom lip, biting down almost too hard, which sent a shiver up her spine. Then abruptly, she broke free.

“What’s the matter?” I asked her, confused at the interruption. She said nothing, shifting her eyes to focus on something behind me. I turned and saw a door. She didn’t have to say anything.

I got it. Standing, I got up and locked the door. Normally I wouldn’t even think about exposing my woman in such a place, but I needed her.

Luckily, there was a lock on the church door.

I killed the lights as darkness filled the room.

The only light coming from the small window sending shadows creeping along the walls.

Grabbing her, I yanked her to me, kissing her as I pushed her back towards the long wooden table. Lifting her to where she was sitting on the edge as she reached to unbutton my shirt.

No more words were necessary.

I couldn’t speak even if I wanted to. The pain I was feeling was drowning me. I needed to feel something real. I wanted to sink into her hot depths and lose myself in her. I wanted her arms wrapped around me as I pounded deeply into her until there was no more me or her, only us.

I needed her more than she needed me at this moment. A guttural desire for life fueled my veins. I could feel the heat coming off her skin as I ran my hands up her thighs and under her skirt, feeling where her thigh-highs ended. My hands came in contact with bare skin. She was hot to my touch as I rubbed the insides of her thighs, teasing her and making her tremble. She pushed my shirt back off my shoulders as she dragged her mouth down to my chest, tasting, licking and nibbling my skin along the way. She rubbed her nose across my chest, stopping over my right nipple as she lightly bit it, eliciting a moan out of me.

I roughly bunched my hand in her hair as I pulled her head back and stared into her eyes that were ablaze with adrenaline. Only at that point did I fully feel and understand just what the need in her was. Her soul mirrored mine.

A desperate need to cling to life.

Her need matched mine, like a deep void tucked away and hidden in the bottom of our souls. There was no voice to it. We never shared our secrets with anyone. No one would understand. We wore our masks, never admitting the truth. No one would recognize it to the discerning eye, only those who had touched death and survived. Those who survived felt the need, the all-consuming desire to fill the void with any means necessary. Right now, it was by fucking. Getting fucked within an inch of our lives. Not out of cruelty, not out of misogyny, not out of bitterness, but out of love. The realization left me lightheaded.

She got me.

She knew me.

She was me.

My perfect match, the other half of my soul.

I let go of her head and reached back down between her thighs, knowing I’d find wetness there. She was drenched. Not a stitch of fabric separated her sticky wetness from my large, probing fingers. As she felt a long thick finger penetrate her, she moved her mouth to my nipple and bit down on it, hard. She began to chew on it. It stung, but I couldn’t stop her. It was an exquisite pain, as for every nibble, there was a lick and a suck.

I had never considered my nipples an erogenous zone, but she was stirring something deep in me. I stuck a second finger in her and probed her depths with urgency. Her sopping cunt was tight, so flooded it offered no resistance. I inserted a third finger. She growled and dragged her mouth over to my other nipple, attacking it with the same aggressiveness. I couldn’t take it any longer. I pulled her head back, jerked my fingers from her dripping cunt, and shoved them in her mouth. She sucked on them wantonly, grabbing my hand to prevent me from taking the sloppy treat away from her.

“I need you, Layla,” I growled when she bit my finger, with so much intensity in my voice that I sounded angry.

“Then take me,” she said breathlessly, releasing my fingers briefly before shoving them back into her mouth, licking between each finger to collect every drop.

My dick positively ached at the lewd display she put on for me. I needed some attention, and fast. I pulled her off the table and pushed her down onto her knees. She immediately went to work on my belt, unbuckling, unbuttoning, and unzipping my pants. She pulled them down as I kicked my shoes off and stepped out of them. I pushed her head back, then put the head of my cock against her lips and said, “Open.”

I rubbed the head of my cock against her lush lips and commanded her to look up at me. I just stared into her rich green eyes and didn’t move.

Her mouth opened as her tongue slid out. I flexed my cock so she could feel the head expand on her tongue. A drop of pre-cum coating fell from the tip, landing on the soft pink pad. The suddenness of it had her moaning slightly as desire flamed in her eyes. I flexed again, sending a rush of blood into my dick as more pre-cum fell onto her tongue. Her eyes lit up as she licked hungrily at my slit, sucking voraciously to try to coax more out. She attempted to move her lips forward on her own, but I held her in place, not letting her move either. All she could do was use her tongue on me, so she let it go to work, never breaking eye contact with me. She swirled her tongue around my head, against the underside, and then back and forth through my slit. I smiled at her warmly and moaned. She relaxed, her eyes almost closing to mere slits, letting her tongue continue to flutter all over my head.

She would have screamed when it came, but she couldn’t. Her nose was buried in my pubic hair, as my balls slapped against her chin as I slammed my dick down her throat. I held it there. Refusing to let her move, my hips and hands pinned her head against me as the heat of her mouth surrounded my cock.

Then before she could move, I pulled out to just the tip again to let her catch her breath while I flexed my head once more on her tongue. She immediately looked up at me, pleading with her eyes for another shafting down her throat.


Tags: Rebecca Joyce Dark