Page 53 of Silver Sinner

"Please!" Layla tips her head back with a groan and exposes the long line of her throat to my teeth. "Please," she whimpers when I step back and grab a condom from the drawer, freshly bought after our time together. "Please," she groans as I snap the latex on and she watches with dark, lidded eyes as I stroke myself once. "Please," she begs as I finally crawl over the top of her and settle on my knees, resting back on my calves between her legs.

Her pussy glistens in the light, muscles clenching and twitching before me. Every inch of her is covered in my attention, and my reward for being so attentive is sliding inside her tight heat and taking what she's willingly giving.

The sweetest, neediest, lust-filled moan I've ever heard escapes past Layla's parted lips as I press my cock inside her in one smooth, steady thrust. Her body parts for me without complaint, wrapping around my cock like a silk glove and searing such an intense heat into me that it takes my breath away. I brace one hand on the bed near her head and caress her breast with my other until our hips are flush together. There, I hold her gaze for a long moment, adrift in the sensation of her pussy flexing and tightening around me. Just as she takes a breath as if to speak, I thrust.

Her eyes roll and she whines slightly, caught with no air in her lungs. Then I close my mouth over hers and start to fuck her with every ounce of strength and passion that she deserves. Layla's at my mercy, gasping into each kiss as our mouths weave together and my cock pounds deep into her, as if I can imprint myself inside her. This is where I belong. This is where I want to spend the rest of my days.

Sweat gleams across my shoulders and arms, rolling in droplets down the drip of my spine as I fuck her harder, keeping each thrust short and powerful. I find the rhythm that makes her eyes roll and her head fall back, lips slack and utterly lost to pleasure. Once I nail it, I bury my face in her hot neck and kiss over her racing pulse point as I fuck us both toward a powerful, trembling orgasm that leaves Layla gasping like she's come up for air, and my balls tightening to the point of pain as pleasure consumes me.

And it's not enough.

I need more.

Giving myself time to recover, I turn to my selection of toys to play with Layla and bring her to another orgasm with a small vibrator against her clit and my mouth working wonders over her breasts. She whines and complains, tries to pull away as she grows more and more sensitive, but not once does she use the safeword or free herself from her binds. Her next orgasm comes at the tender touch of my fingers and tongue while a vibrating egg rests inside her pussy, sending her to heights of pleasure that leave her utterly boneless and incoherent. By then, I've recovered enough for round two, and Layla can only moan as I loosen the length of the bindings, roll her onto her stomach, and lift her hips so I can fuck her from behind.

"You have a fucking delectable ass, Layla," I murmur as another cool condom slaps onto my hot cock and I plunge inside her while teasing my thumb over the tight pucker of her ass. Layla's hands clench and unclench into fists and she pants with each powerful thrust I drive into her overheated body. She doesn't speak, not until a few minutes later when she finally has enough breath in her to get the words out.

"Thanks," she gasps, and I chuckle warmly.

Fucking her from behind is just as delightful and I hold her hip, caress her back, and watch my cock split her open with every thrust. The earthy scent of sex and cum fills the air, mingling with sweat and heat that clings to my skin in the best way. I'm in heaven, and as my second orgasm approaches, I drape over Layla and fuck into her for three full minutes with wild abandon, like a possessive animal planting my claim inside her.

By the time my orgasm passes, we're both exhausted. Layla is particularly limp when I roll to the side with a gasp.

She doesn't complain when I undo the bindings around her wrists and ankles and kiss the marks left behind. She barely makes a sound when I scoop her into my arms and carry her through to the en suite. Layla doesn't say anything until I've got her in a hot, soapy bath with me and I'm gently massaging her shoulders.

"That was… intense."

My hands pause. "A good intense? Or bad?"

"Definitely good," she murmurs. "I've never done anything like that before. I mean…" She hesitates slightly. "I have and I haven't."

"In what way?"

Something tightens across her shoulders so I knead gently to wash it all away.

"I've had kinky boyfriends before, but none of them ever felt that good. I didn't know it was possible to feel that good."

"I've had many years of practice."

"With lots of women?"

There's a hidden question there, I'm sure of it. She wants to know if she's one in a long string of conquests, or if there's something real here between us.

"No," I say soothingly, sliding my hands into her damp hair with a palmful of shampoo. "I have had few partners over the years. My last real relationship was over two decades ago with a woman who decided cheating on me was all the excitement she needed."

"Oh Pierce, I'm so sorry."

"I harbor no ill will," I assure her. Especially since the cunt she cheated on me with ended up at the bottom of the river. In pieces. "I wasn't right for her and she wasn't right for me. Since then, I haven't exactly… dated. Other than to scratch an itch."

"What am I?" She tilts her head to try and look at me. "Am I an itch?"

"Layla… you're not an itch. You are an obsession."

Her cheeks, already pink from the heat of the water, flare darker and she smiles. "I'm glad she broke up with you, because her loss is my gain." She turns in my hold and kisses my jaw, then nibbles up to my chin and claims my lips until the ache of moving draws her away.

"And you? Do I need to worry about these boyfriends of yours?" I cup water in my hands and gently wash away the shampoo, leaving her hair glistening like it's made of glass.

"God no," Layla laughs. "I've been single for so long I'd almost forgotten how good it feels to be fucked. This is… I feel like me again. Is that weird? Like… I'm not Layla the mother or Layla the waitress or Layla, the one always late with rent. I feel like… me. Layla the woman. Pretty. Desirable." Her head ducks suddenly. "That sounds terrible out loud."