Ever After Awaits (Layla) novel Chapter 40

Chapter 40: Xavier POV

I’m not sure who moves first but in the next moment, her lips are on mine.

I’ve never tasted something so sweet, so intoxicating, so addictive. I want to bottle it up so I can douse myself in it when I’m alone in my bed at night, fantasizing and dreaming about my new stepsister.

The kiss starts innocently enough, two pairs of lips caressing, tasting each other, getting used to the other one’s plumpness or softness.

Her bottom lip is pillowy and begs to be bitten by me. Her top lip has the perfect cupid’s bow. It drives me wild, and I need more. More of this kiss, more of

her.

My left hand drifts upwards to her hip, taking hold and pulling her closer to me. I need to feel her heat against my hardening cock. I need to know that it’s not just me who feels this thing between us.

My other hand gently clasps around her throat and my thumb nudges below her jaw. She instinctively tilts her head backward, giving me the perfect angle to explore her mouth thoroughly.

Swiping my tongue across her bottom lip, requesting entrance, I groan in satisfaction when she readily gives it to me. Can she be any more perfect?

The dance between our tongues is natural and instinctual, as if we’ve done this hundreds of times. She tastes like coffee and something sweet – vanilla maybe?– that makes me want more, so much more.

She’s gripping my t–shirt and grinding against my crotch, seeking her pleasure. I’m more than willing to help her find it with me.

When I picked up that call earlier, I immediately wanted to go on the defensive, because let’s be honest, that’s my new personality setting when it comes to her. But the moment I heard that vulnerable tone in her sultry voice, I knew something was wrong, and I wanted to be the one to fix it for her.

I’ll eventually get to the bottom of what happened with her injury, but not right now. Not while I have her in my arms, not while she’s open to me, and certainly not while she’s accepting of me.

Her hands move to my back, slipping underneath my t–shirt, making me hum at how soft her hands are. It reminds me of silk sheets against one’s naked skin. Heavenly. Divine.

I slip my arm further around her lower back and pull her even closer to me. The angle and height of the cabinet has my stiff cock pressing almost directly on her sensitive clit. Her one hand slides between us and lands on the bulge in my jeans and I instinctually grind into her, causing the back of her hand to place extra friction against her pussy. The moan she lets escape is sinful, desire–filled, and wanton.

She’s fucking stunning like this. And she’s all mine. Her pleasure is all mine. And her release will be all mine as well,

I tighten my grip on her throat infinitesimally and then murmur to her between kisses, “Come for me,

Princess.”

It’s as if her body was waiting for me to give her the okay to crest that mountaintop of ecstasy. Because not even three undulations of her hips later, she shatters for me. And the sight is abso–fucking–lutely mesmerizing.

I lose control of my own body and follow her into the depths of desire, pleasure, and release. My cum shoots out against the fabric of my boxer briefs, the material creating extra stimulation against my oversensitive tip, which in turn causes my orgasm to last longer than ever before.

The groan that rips from my throat is animalistic and foreign to me. I’ve never had such a visceral reaction when I was balls deep inside a woman.

My knees buckle and I steady myself on the countertop, not wanting to crush her underneath my weight. My head seeks out the crook of her neck and I inhale her strawberries and honey scent.

The seconds tick by with us just existing in this serene and magical bubble, clinging to the other one, not willing to let go just yet.

Eventually, and in a silent mutual agreement, we separate so I can finish cleaning her wound, sealing the edges together with some butterfly bandages. Once I’m satisfied, I help her down from the vanity and slowly walk her into her bedroom. I place her on the edge of the bed and hand her the pajamas I see lying off to the side.

“You change while I clean up quickly.”

Chapter 40: Xavier POV

Her blush, presumably for causing me to come in my pants, is quickly hidden by her mass of melted chocolate–colored hair. She has nothing the be ashamed about, I’m the one that couldn’t control myself – not that I wanted fo.

Closing the bathroom door behind me to give her some privacy, I take off my jeans, boxers, shoes, and socks before throwing the soiled underwear in the wastebasket that’s in the carner. My jeans go back on, but I remove my t–shirt as well.

I rummage around in the vanity cabinet for the pain medication that should be there and pour some water into the glass that’s sitting upside down on the

counter.

Calculating that enough time has passed, I slowly open the door to give her enough notice of my intended exit. She’s seated on the side of the bed where 1 left her, the only difference being she now has her pajamas on.

Still without saying a word, I hand her the two tablets and the glass of water. She automatically swallows it and hands the glass back to me so I can put it on the bedside table.”

I walk to the top of the bed and pull back her covers before nodding my head for her to get in. She momentarily cocks her brow at me but decides she is most likely too tired to spar with me about something so trivial.

She slides under the duvet, and I walk around to the other side to do the same.

“What are you doing?” she asks suspiciously when I pull her closer so her head can rest on my chest, wrapping my arm around her shoulders.

“I’ve had a few concussions due to football and you need someone with you to keep an eye on you for the next few hours. Technically you’re not allowed to sleep yet, but seeing as you are dead on your feet, presumably after a long day of classes and your job, I’ll wake you every two hours to make sure your symptoms don’t get worse.”

Stunned silence fills the air and I almost smile, because a speechless Layla is a new experience for me.

“But…”

“Sleep Princess,” is my last order to her before leaning over to my bedside table to get my phone.

After I’ve set alarms for every two hours, I place my phone underneath my pillow and look over towards her, ready to give another decree of her needing to sleep.

In the couple of minutes that I was occupied, she had settled with her head on my chest and her arm slung over my lower abdomen. Her breathing is steady but deep, letting me know that she’s in dreamland already.

Leaning down, I place a tender kiss on the top of her head.

“Sleep tight, my beautiful Princess,” I whisper just before I switch off my bedside lamp, cloaking the room in darkness.

Some of my last thoughts, as 1, too, drift off to sleep, are of what waits for us tomorrow. I need to know what happened tonight so I can fix it and make sure it doesn’t happen again. But I also know what happened between us tonight will not magically fix the animosity between us.

But reluctantly, I must admit to myself that I want to fix it. I want to make her life better. I want to protect her.

Here’s hoping that when she wakes up tomorrow morning, she doesn’t suffocate me in my sleep.