I offer her a grunt in response but follow her through the motions one more time, raising my arms up with my hands already flexing to touch her, but I promised to be dedicated to this plan and I’m a man of my word if nothing else.
As I watch her I can almost picture my name scrawled somewhere on her unmarked skin, and my cock swells even more.
The night is dark outside her living room window. Her house sits on a hill of sorts so the street isn’t visible from here, only her yard and part of her neighbor’s. The windows are open and the crickets rival the sound-bath loop Layla has playing through her TV.
“Last deep breath,” she says calmly. “And close your eyes on this one,” she adds, her voice barely above a whisper as she falls forward again, then takes one last swoop of her arms up toward the sky.
“Nah, I don’t close my eyes,” I mutter.
She looks over her shoulder again, then forward with a grin. “You do when you sleep.”
“Of course, but I don’t really sleep. Only with my gun under my pillow in my own house, which is locked up like Fort Knox.”
“Suit yourself then, keep your eyes open,” Layla says, looking at me through the space between her knee and her arm. Her smirk is smug, sassy. She drops her hands to her toes one more time and the need to tear through her yoga shorts overwhelms me.
I move behind her and grip her hips forcefully, pulling her into me. She yelps and then moans as I pull her to me even harder and my cock presses into her ass.
“I wasn’t through my practice.” She laughs as I plant kisses down the back of her sweaty neck.
“Alright.” I tip her head back and kiss her. “Let’s make us both happy then, hmm? What position would be best for you to be in while I feast on your dripping cunt?”
Layla doesn’t miss a beat. She pushes away from me and drops down onto her hands and knees and looks at me over her shoulder. “That’s easy. Cat pose,” she says sweetly.
“Fucking little brat,” I snap as I get down behind her, sliding a hand up her back then through her hair to untie the scarf she’s wearing. I fix the folded fabric around her eyes and tighten it like a blindfold. Her breathing increases and my cock goes instantly rock hard.
“What are you doing?”
“Teaching you a lesson,” I growl as I fist the seam of those fucking shorts that have taunted me for the last hour and tear them open from the center out.
“Sean!” she cries out. “I liked those!”
“Consequences, little dove.”
I lay a punishing slap to her ass cheek and she fucking moans. I know everything is heightened for her right now with her eyes covered.
“Fucking Christ,” I breathe out when I look down and see my handprint on her ass. I wind my hand in her long copper hair and force her upper half down onto the soft shag rug, then I hike her ass up high as she pants. Mine for the taking in the middle of her living room. My eyes roam over her. She’s so eager to please me as I twist my first two fingers into the top of her thong. I pull it upwards, making it nice and taut over her clit, and she lets out a breathy moan. She’s so swollen and needy that when I pinch her between her thighs over the soft cotton I can already feel how soaked she is. The way her body moves, the little sounds she makes, those fucking eyes. All of it is enough to break even the strongest man.
I pull tighter on her thong and she rocks her hips back as I use my free hand to reach forward and pull her bra down so her tits bounce free. She’s a mess like this, spread bare before me, and I wouldn’t have it any other fucking way. Her pink nipples pucker and beg for my tongue, my fingers. I can’t touch her in enough places at once. She’s fucking glorious, ass up before me with her sweet, soaking pussy ready to devour. I stand and make my way to her fireplace, taking one of the thick candles that burns there, which smells like vanilla. I look down at her and smirk, watching her grip the carpet in anticipation. Layla’s breath increases with the uncertainty of what I’m doing, but quickly turns to the low whimpers of desire that I can’t get enough of when she hears me retake my place behind her with the candle in hand, the hot wax pools at the top spilling slightly over the sides.
“You know, a side effect of an overactive brain means I study way too much, and in turn, I remember every detail of what I read,” I tell her as I move her thong aside and slide my middlefinger through her arousal, toying with her clit as I bite back a groan at the same time as I let one drop of wax land on the center of her spine. Layla flinches in surprise, her body tensing. As I let another drop fall, she understands what it is and relaxes.
“Sean …” She whimpers my name with the pain and pleasure combined, and I smirk as I let another drop fall below the last.
“Almost a hundred years ago, Bodhi Singh wrote about tantra. The aim of achieving liberation by embracing desires rather than suppressing them. The need to let ourselves be sexually free. Letting our souls find their optimum sexual counterpoint.” I let another drop fall, pushing my finger into her just enough to counteract the burn of the wax on her back.
“It’s said that, within the soul, humans have an absolute right to satisfy their sexual instinct in the way that feels physiologically proper.” Another drop lands on her as I push my finger all the way into her tight pussy.
So fucking tight.I listen to her shallow breaths as she grips the carpet tighter with each drop of hot wax.
“That the joining of two souls is to treat all such acts as sacraments, ritual. Removing one’s senses is a way to heighten that act to another level entirely.”
Another drop, as I slide my finger out and sweep it up to pinch her clit. This time she cries out.
“Sean!”
I can’t wait any longer, freeing my rock-solid cock as I drip more wax down her spine.
“I can’t … take it …” she whimpers.
