‘Just a little way?’
‘Not a chance,’ he said, and his hand was over hers this time as she stroked him, feeling the soft, soft skin that encased his manhood, moving him closer to where she wanted him. And it was cruel, for they deserved more.
Mikael moved down the bed and kissed along her thighs, over and over, till she pleaded with him to taste her there again.
This time he pulled her legs so that they lay over his shoulders and down his back, and she felt every breath from him; the flicks of his tongue were intense and they made her sob with both need and frustration, for she wanted him inside.
He struggled to stay gentle, not to bury his face in her mound and suckle and nip and probe her till she was ready—for that was where his mind was, and so too was Layla’s.
‘I don’t care, Mikael…’ she said as her fingers tried to pull his head from her, as she tried to move her legs so he would slide up the bed and take her. ‘I don’t care what happens when I get back…’
But his arms held her legs down, and his tongue was more rapid and probing, and he took her from the edge of potential disaster to temporary oblivion. Yet even as she came to his mouth, even as her body rode the high, somehow it was not enough.
She still wanted more.
‘I want to taste you,’ she said, and she smiled as she felt him moan with want between her legs.
‘You said…’
‘I can do this,’ she said—for she would make her own rules. She would never do it with another…she would marry Mikael the only way she could: with her mouth. ‘Please, Mikael, I will only ever do this with you.’
He lay on his back and Layla lay astride him, lowering her head to the base of him and slowly kissing the long way up.
‘My hair…’
She lifted it and tied it into a knot.
‘That is better,’ Layla said. ‘Now I can concentrate.’
She kissed him with her eyes open—not just his lovely shaft but down to his balls, which she took one by one into her mouth and sucked gently, because every bit of this she wanted to remember for ever.
He tasted clean, and she was about to give thanks for all the showers he took, but the moan from him and the slight pressure on her head told Layla he might not appreciate a break for conversation.
She was as turned on as she had been when his mouth had been on her, and she felt one hand cupping her bottom as his other hand guided her just a little further down.
She ran her tongue around the top and then swallowed him a little way down, and then more, over and over, working him with her hand, somehow imagining that the hips that bucked in her mouth bucked between her legs.
Yes, she married him—for she would never be as intimate with another, would never moan and purr in pure pleasure.
She forgot her stride for a second, coming herself as he moved in her mouth, and just as it subsided Layla got the shock of her life as he swelled and started thrusting and she felt the first splash of Mikael.
He had meant to warn her. Instead he’d been taken back at the speed and strength of his orgasm.
He heard a small gasp from Layla—and even in the throes of his pleasure she made him smile. Kneeling up, holding her mouth closed with her cheeks bulging, she was the only woman in the world who could be about to spit and somehow not offend.
But instead she took a deep breath and swallowed.
‘Oh, Mikael!’ She was truly stunned for a moment, but then she smiled. ‘That was fantastic.’
‘It was.’
‘A little more practice and I think…’ Her voice faded.
They had almost run out of time.
‘Come here,’ he said, and brought her back to his arms for their last night on earth together.
Neither wanted the morning.