With their lips clinging to each other as if seared by the heat of metal, Rashad and Layla stumbled into the bedroom—dark and dominated by a king bed with navy sheets and six large pillows neatly stacked against each other. A large lamp cast a ghostly glow, pushing against the shadowy corners and offering a glimpse of heavy wood furniture in the room.
Rashad ravaged her mouth with deep, probing kisses, his tongue breaching her lips and his teeth teasing with stinging bites and nips. He traced the dips and curves of her body with knowing hands, and she, too, explored him—reacquainting herself with the beauty of his form. She shoved her hands beneath his shirt and caressed the warm skin covering his back and the taut muscles of his abdomen.
They stripped naked in what seemed like a matter of seconds. God, he was magnificent—tight muscles overlaid by smooth dark skin, with a body that looked like it had been sculpted from black onyx.
Rashad lowered her to the bed, and over two hundred pounds of hard male came down between her thighs. His hand slid below her belly, and he let out a satisfied groan when he found her dripping wet with want. She arched her back and eased her legs wider, her breath stuttering over her tongue as she struggled to breathe.
He savored her, lingering at the sensitive spot behind her ear before leisurely kissing her shoulders and collarbone, leaving her skin flaming in the wake of his lips. Moving lower to the tops of her breasts, he sucked and licked and squeezed his tongue into her cleavage. Layla bit down on her bottom lip, tossing her head from side to side as she ached for him to make the final foray to her painfully tight nipples.
“Please,” she whispered, running her fingers over his soft, coily hair. That’s all she could manage, unable to bear the torture any longer.
With excruciating slowness, Rashad cupped one breast and then finally—finally!—pulled her caramel nipple into his hot mouth. Layla gasped and sank her fingers into his shoulders, the overwhelming pleasure making her feel as if she were about to go mad. His teeth tugged while his tongue soothed with a velvet caress. Warm pleasure coursed through her veins and her sexual need for him surged and swelled like a rising tide.
He kissed a path down her body, hands staying busy, clearly on a mission to reclaim every inch of her. His fingers brushed her hip bone and feathered over her thighs. Her calves and ankles didn’t go untouched, nor did her bottom or the curve at the base of her back when he flipped her onto her stomach.
When he swept aside her hair so his lips could touch her nape, she sighed audibly and curled her fingers into the sheets. He knew his way around a woman’s body—specifically her body and had turned her into a writhing mess, the interior of her thighs throbbing and sticky and wet. He buried his face in her neck, rubbing his hard dick against the crack of her ass, and she rotated her hips against him, listening with satisfaction as he gasped at her lewd movements. Arching her spine, she pushed back harder, and he shoved his fingers into her hair and tugged back her head.
He kissed her hard, hungrily, as if this might be the last time he had a chance to taste her mouth. Their lips and tongues moved over each other in a sloppy kiss that reinforced their passion and uncontrollable need for each other.
When the kiss ended, Rashad pulled Layla on top of him, and she experienced the full length of his body spread out beneath hers. She slid her hand between his legs and held his solid length in a snug clasp, stroking slowly at first and then increasing the pace, forcing him to let loose a growl of approval. His breathing grew choppy, so she knew he enjoyed her touch. When she swiped her tongue across the tip of his length, his body jerked and he grabbed her by the neck, forcing her gaze to meet his.
“Get on top of me,” he demanded.
She followed his instructions and flung one leg over his hips. She sank down on top of him, gasping as she was stretched by his girth and impaled by his length. They both stilled, absorbing the moment—reveling in the sensation of being locked together. His nostrils flared and his dark eyes narrowed to slits. Rashad placed both hands on her hips and then began to move, undulating his long body in a sexy wave of movement that made her respond in kind.
Layla forgot everything that came before this moment—the doubts she had about Rashad, the uncertainty and pain of the past that forced her to make a clean break. All of that disappeared as she rode him. She moaned as his pace quickened and listened to the corresponding tufts of air that discharged from his lungs. Her breasts jostled as she bounced up and down on his shaft and fiery need built and coalesced into a perfect storm of desire.
The tender muscles between her thighs quivered around his length, and a very noticeable tightening in her lower abdomen signaled a pending orgasm. With only a few more thrusts from his hips, she’d be coming. She was so turned on by his scent and touch that she leaned forward and kissed his mouth, sucking on his plump lower lip as her hips made erotic circles, and she continued to ride him.
Rashad pumped up into her, each stroke deep and powerful. She let him take control, her hands braced on either side of his head, her weak elbows wobbling in a valiant attempt to maintain her position because she didn’t want to lose one iota of this feeling of complete and blissful delirium.
“That’s my girl,” Rashad said, one hand roughly squeezing her ass while the other remained in place on her back. “You feel so good. He missed you, sweetness.”
He being his dick. Heaven forbid that he tell her again that he—Rashad—had missed her. That moment on her street was long gone, but she wouldn’t let that spoil this moment and take away the orgasm that was tantalizingly close.
Sitting upright, Layla cupped her breasts and tweaked her nipples to heighten the pleasure. “I’m almost there,” she whispered brokenly.
“Go ahead, sweetness. Use me however you like,” he grunted, the muscles in his neck corded tight as he fought to hold back and make sure she came first.
That did it.
She came unglued, falling apart at the seams, giving herself over to an orgasm that constricted her loins and made her body feel like one large nerve ending.
Rashad’s hips moved faster, and Layla tossed back her head and closed her eyes to sink deeper into oblivion. The hand on her bottom moved to her left breast and Rashad alternated between squeezing the fullness of her flesh and tweaking a tight nipple between his fingertips.
She came again, hips working overtime as her body convulsed around him, loud moans spilling from her lips over and over again like a sorcerer’s incantation. Rashad pulled her down and captured her cries with hungry kisses, a hand at her waist holding her in place as he continued to thrust, pulling out yet another orgasm that depleted her energy and spun the room.
When she felt she had nothing else to give and her body was drained of the ability to move, he rolled her onto her back and continued to drive into her. Now he was on top, and his knees splayed her legs wide, the full weight of his body pressing her into the soft mattress with a flurry of thrusts. His stamina was unbelievable, but so was her body’s ability to respond to his. He was so damn good and multi-tasked like a boss, kissing and sucking sensitive spots on her skin while knowing the right angle to slice into her body so that he hit her G-spot over and over.
“Three years. Three goddamn years you been right here,” he growled in her ear. “How dare you keep this from me.”
She had no defense against such masterful lovemaking. Lifting her whole body into each thrust, she hooked her arms around his neck as he buried his face between her jaw and collarbone. The coil of tension in her loins snapped like a weakened rubber band, and she succumbed to another orgasm. At the same time his hips accelerated, her vaginal walls clenched around him and Rashad let out a hoarse, wounded sound that seemed to be torn from somewhere deep inside him.
He followed with a stream of F-bombs through gritted teeth and slammed his fist into the bed.
Their lower bodies crashed into each other over and over to unleash the full power of the climax, their muted cries mingling together in a chorus of raw, unadulterated pleasure.