Her back arches and I feel the walls of her pussy squeeze around me, a sure sign that she’s starting to get close. I flex my hips, driving myself all the way inside of her, and she presses her head into my shoulder to keep from making too much noise.
But I don’t need her to say a damn word right now; I can read her body with every movement she makes. Her hips roll down against my cock, over and over again, not riding me but massaging me at every angle she can have me at. I can hear her breath against my ear, starting to grow uneven and wanting, and there’s nothing in the world I crave more than the feeling of her pussy contracting around me, giving me everything that she’s been waiting for.
It doesn’t take long till whatever control she has shatters and breaks entirely. She tenses on top of me, thighs trembling on either side of my lap, and holds her breath for a moment as the pleasure arches beyond the point of no return. She slackens into me as she comes, the pulsations stimulating me with every motion. I continue to move inside of her, pushing myself deep, until I feel the rush of pleasure get the better of me and tip over the edge and into my own relief.
I bury myself inside of her as I come, grunting as I fill her with my seed. There’s something so primal about it, so deliciouslyintimate that I can’t do anything but get lost in the way it makes me feel. It’s more than just her warmth around me, her moans in my ear, all those signals that she desires me as much as I desire her. It’s something deeper than that now, something that skirts dangerously close to the edge of real emotion—real connection.
And something that I, despite myself, can’t help but crave more of.
She squirms against me for a few more moments, as though she’s taking every last moment of pleasure while she still can, and then eases herself out of my lap, slumping down onto the seat beside me. I take her bare legs and draw them into my lap, rubbing along her thighs and calves to make sure she’s right here on earth with me.
“You okay?” I ask, as she sinks her head into the couch.
She nods, her eyes heavy-lidded. “Mhm.”
“You look exhausted,” I murmur, and I lean toward her to draw her into my arms. “Come on—you need to get some sleep…”
She doesn’t protest as I carry her through to bed. I steal a sniff of her hair as we go, breathing in the scent of her as her soft, small body relaxes into mine.
I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve a woman like this, who seems to want me just as much as I want her. But if I know one thing for sure, it’s that I will do anything to make certain that she never feels so alone in the face of such trouble again.
Even if that trouble might be bigger than even I can wrap my head around.
19
LILA
The first thingthat strikes me, as I come out of my exhausted state and into the real world once more, is Matty crying.
I recognize that it’s her at once—because it’s so rare. She doesn’t cry much, not real crying, the kind she’s doing now, wailing like the world is crashing down around her and there’s nothing she can do to stop it. I lift my head from the pillow, frowning, and look to her bassinet next to the bed.
“You hungry already?” I ask her blearily, as I swing my legs out of bed and reach out to pull her into my arms. But as I begin to soothe her, another sound cuts through the quiet—a sound that makes my heart drop a mile in a single moment.
Someone is banging on the door. Hard. Not the kind of banging that Sofia would do if she had returned early and needed to speak to me about something. Not even a landlord, looking to talk to me about upping the rent or something. No, this insistent crash of fists against wood is something else entirely.
And as much as I hate to admit it, I know exactly what it means.
I clutch Matty to my chest, looking over to check on Ross, who seems to still be asleep—thank God. In the bed beside me, Martin stirs, frowning as he rubs a hand over his head.
“What the hell is…?” He trails off. When he looks over at me, I know he has already put the pieces together.
I recognize that banging on the door, the way it throws me back into a million memories I would rather leave behind.
It’s Thom. I’m sure of it. I can still recall the few times I was foolish enough to think I could lock myself in the bathroom at his apartment for some privacy, and how he pounded on the door until I opened it, screaming in my face for daring to shut him out for so long. Didn’t seem to matter how many times I told him that I was entitled to my own space, he would treat it like I had been browsing dating apps as soon as I was out of his sight.
“It’s him,” I admit.
I can’t believe this is happening. These two sides of my life, clashing together, leaving me no room to escape. It’s not like I can just go and tell Thom politely that I actually have company right now, so if he’d like to just leave and come back at a more convenient hour, that would be perfect. No, if he knew I had a man here, he would no doubt launch himself at Martin, and that’s the last thing I want right now.
Martin’s face hardens. He grabs his shirt, throwing it on and striding toward the door.
“What are you doing?” I ask, rushing after him, still holding Matty.
“Put the twins back in their beds, and go and wait in the bedroom with them,” he tells me firmly, not taking his eyes off the door. “I’m going to deal with this.”
“No, please, you can’t—you don’t understand?—”
“Lila?” Thom’s voice comes through the door. “I can hear you in there! Let me in!”
