Ever After Awaits (Layla) novel Chapter 52

Chapter 52: Layla POV

His big, burly body sits on the floor, his back against the wall opposite my door His long athletic legs are stretched out, and his hands are folded in his lap. His head is tipped back, and his eyes are hooded but not closed.

“Princess,” is his only response to my sheet bafflement at finding him here.

Leaning forward, I peer down the hallway, expecting to see the other guys keeping him company. But it’s just him.

“What…what are you doing here?” I ask apprehensively. It wouldn’t surprise me if he came here to gloat. And I’m mentally too worn out to spar with him right now. He can jump off a bridge for all I care if he’s here to fight.

“Why do you think I’m here?” he answers, pissing me off. Why can’t he get to the point? I want to get out of here, and he is working on my last nerve, which is not on my bingo card right now.

Not in the mood to entertain his childish games, I step out of the room and close the door without saying a word. I don’t get three steps down the hall when I hear Xavier hastily get up and come charging my way.

Before I can turn around and give him a piece of my mind, though, he grabs my elbow and swings me around. His crowding my space and pushing me up against the wall happens in unison like a choreographed dance. His hands slap against the wall on either side of my head, effectively caging me in. He’s breathing heavily, but his eyes burn with an intensity I can’t quite place.

“Why do you have to be so goddamn stubborn all the time?” he asks, frustration evident in his voice, but I hear no anger as I expected. His eyes keep darting from my eyes to my mouth, making my insides stand at attention.

“Not being one of your airheaded fangirls who follow you around like a lost puppy and who doesn’t have more than 50 words in their vocabulary, doesn’t make me stubborn,” I say in frustration, as I place my free hand on his chest intent on pushing him away so I can leave.

His right hand, though, comes down off the wall and grabs it, holding it in place over his erratically beating heart. I’m effectively mute with the warmth of his roughened hands seeping into the soft skin of my own. How does a simple touch like this have such an instinctive effect on my body and senses?

The answer is simple, but complicated in its entirety – because it’s him.

The moment is like a snapshot in time as we peer into each other’s eyes. Seeing the other person’s soul and recognizing a connection that shouldn’t make sense, but it does. It shouldn’t exist, but thrives when we are in each other’s orbit.

“You drive me fucking crazy,” is the last words he growls at me before he smashes his mouth against mine.

Our coming together is not sweet, tentative, or soft like a lover’s touch. True to my and Xavier’s relationship thus far, it’s chaotic and soul–scorching, both of us fighting for control that the other isn’t willing to give up easily.

It’s a kiss that burns your soul to the ground to build it up in the next instant, only stronger and more durable this time. Ensuring no one can break you again, like my mother tried to do with me.

Our teeth clash, and our tongues tangle in an erotic rhythm as old as time. With my one hand still being held hostage agamst his chest, my other drops my beg without further consideration and goes to his back, and beneath the shirt he must have put on after the fiasco at the pool. My nails dig into his flesh and back muscles in a feeble attempt to cause him an iota of the pain that has ripped through me after my mother’s words earlier.

His left hand moves from the wall and clasps the back of my head, tangling in my thick, still damp hair, effectively holding me in place, He pulls with a soft Jug, causing my head to fill up, giving him the perfect angle to claim my mouth with his, whichever way he pleases.

He breaks the kiss to nip, lick, and suck his way over my jaw and down my throat

“That’s it, Princess, give me your pain,” he says of he pushes me even harder against the wall, and I unwittingly claw harder at his back, making him hiss But the sudden way he grinds is hardened cock against my core makes me realize he biked it, and he didn’t make that noise because he was in pain.

Surprisingly, this thought makes heat drip from my folds to further drench any already soaked panties Jeeze, what has this man turned me into?

“Xavier, please,” I say breathily, lost to all thought, only able to feel what he’s doing to me in the here and now. I’m unsure what I’m asking him, but t sincerely hope he knows what I need.

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Chapter 52: Layla POV

“Don’t worry, Princess, I’ve got you,” he says against the skin of my collarbone, making my skin erupt in goosebumps. A throaty moan I’ve never made before slips from me, making Xavier retrace his steps up against my neck, and zeroing in on my ear.

He sucks my lobe into his mouth and then bites down on it. A few beats later, he blows on it to ease any pain he might have caused me. The little nip of his teeth didn’t hurt as much as it surprised the hell out of me, but the aftereffects of that small act have shaken me to my core. Because the little pain mixed in with the pleasure before and after the fact has me panting for him, for more, for everything.

“Fuck, Layla, you’re magnificent when you let go,” comes his confession, and it makes me want to melt into a puddle at his feet. Who knew this man was capable of such words that are tender and sweet but equally erotic.

Somewhere during the frenzy of us consuming each other, his hand released mine on his chest, but I never moved it, subconsciously not willing to lose contact with him just yet. That hand of his now, though, slowly caresses down my side till it comes to the waistband of my jeans. His fingers slip underneath the hem of my shirt and softly glide against my skin along my waistband to where it’s buttoned.

The anticipation of where his hand is heading has my heart pulsing at an erratic speed and my breath catching in my throat. But I don’t stop him. I can’t, because I want this as much as he does.

Popping the button of my jeans open, he slides my zip down slowly, probably to give me a chance to chicken out if I want to.

Before slipping his hand inside, he leans back, locks his darkened green eyes onto mine, and asks with a twinge of vulnerability, “Is this okay?”

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