by Alexa Riley
“That’s it, baby. Good girl. Fuck me back, Cherry.”
Her hip movements begin to counter my thrusts and before long my girl is fucking me too. She goes faster and faster and I feel her pussy gripping my cock when I pull out.
“Fuck, your greedy cunt won’t let me out. Fucking begging for it, aren’t you?” I kiss her mouth so she doesn’t have to respond. She doesn’t need to.
We’re a sweaty, rutting pile of flesh. Layla moans loudly in my ear. She’s getting close and there’s no way I can last much longer. I reach down with one hand and thumb her clit, rubbing it fast and hard. I lean in close to her shoulder and bite her neck. My mouth gripping her flesh is all it takes for her to arch her back and scream out my name.
“CARTER!” she shouts. Her pussy squeezes my cock in time with her cries. As her release pulses through her, I muster every ounce of willpower I possess and pull out of her sweet heaven. I start jerking my cock off. It’s slick with her cream and I can see small red traces of her virginity around the base.
“Only good girls get cum in their pussy, Cherry. You ran away from me tonight, so you can just lie back and watch what should have gone inside you.”
My body locks up and I squeeze my hand around my cock, trying to mimic how tight her pussy was. I start shaking and my cum splashes on her pussy. I pump my cock and it just keeps cumming. When I think I can’t possibly have any more, another wave of pleasure hits me and I keep unloading on her.
When my cock is finally spent, I fall over beside her and pull her against me.
Layla starts to talk and I cut her off. “Go to sleep, baby. I plan on having you a few more times tonight so rest up.” I know where it will go if she starts talking. If she asks me to stay with one of her little pleas, there won’t be any denying her.
I position her on her side with her head on my chest, and I lie there, smiling. I don’t know if I’ve ever been this happy. We are both a sticky mess, but I couldn’t care less. I’ve finally got my girl right where she belongs.
“You were perfect, Layla. Absolutely perfect.”
She snuggles into my side and I feel her love brand my skin. “I miss the sound of you playing the piano while I fall asleep, baby. We’re gonna have to change that.”
I feel her head nod in agreement. She’s too tired to answer. Moments later I feel her body relax and she finds sleep. Then I feel my own eyes grow heavy. I dream of Layla. Always Layla.
I wake up and feel Layla against me. Her hot breath kisses my chest and her small hand strokes my hard cock while she makes little moaning sounds. I reach down to find her other hand.
It is—as I suspected—between her legs. She’s kissing my chest, gripping my cock, and finger fucking herself at the same time. Jesus. Am I still dreaming?
Immediately, I sit up and push her chest down against the mattress. I lie on top of her until she’s completely flat against the bed, her arms spread out, my legs bracketing hers.
“Be careful when you tease the beast, baby.”
I hold her hands down against the mattress and push my hard cock against her.
“Keep your legs together, Cherry. I want to fight my way in.”
Her head is turned to the side and I stretch out on top of her. This position is powerful yet intimate. I’m holding her down but still protecting her. I can whisper in her ear, and kiss her face, but still force my way into her body.
I push my hard cock against her and she lifts her ass a little. She wants it, but doesn’t want to beg for it. Her arousal is slick on her thighs and my cock slips its way inside her pussy. Her legs are held tight together. I hold her arms down with mine and I lean in to kiss her cheek. I shift my weight to my knees and start to thrust hard against her.
“You woke up horny and wanted a quick fuck, didn’t you, Cherry?”
I fuck her hard and she fights it. Her eyes squeeze tight and her mouth opens in a silent shout.
“You remember this, baby. You remember when you’re tender and so sore you can’t sit, that you asked for it. Now stick that ass up in the air, Cherry, I’m gonna give you what you need.”
I give her room to arch her back and she pushes her ass against me, opening her pussy a little more for my pleasure. I hammer into her, and then reach around and find her clit.
“Oh God, Carter! It’s so good, please.”
“Please what, Cherry? If you’re gonna beg me for it, make it pretty.”
She pants and moans, and I know she’s just on the edge of tipping over. “Please, Carter. I’m sorry for teasing you. Please make me cum.”
“Oh, sweet Cherry, that’s it, baby. That was so pretty. Just for that I’ll let you have my cum in your pussy this time, okay?”
“Yes, please!”
It’s a quick fuck but I’m so goddamn hard I won’t last much longer. I pinch her clit and it sends her little pussy into convulsions. She throbs and squeezes my dick and I have no choice but to shoot my load deep inside her.
As we both come down, I roll to the side, pulling her body against me and we spoon with my hard cock still inside her.
I grab her hand and use it to cup her pussy, around where we’re connected. “Hold your hand here, Cherry. My cum is everywhere and I don’t want any of it leaking out.”
“Are you kidding me?” she asks lazily. She has almost fallen back to sleep as she does what I tell her.
I kiss the side of her neck. “Yes, I’m serious. I want as much of me in you before I leave.”
She mumbles incoherently as I continue to kiss her shoulder and trace her freckles with my finger.
“I’ll be gone a while, but I’ll come back. You’re free now, Cherry. You’re safe.”
“Yes, Carter,” she breathes dreamily and it makes me smile.
“You can live your life and not be scared anymore, baby. I’ve got you.”
Her breath is soft as I continue to kiss her freckles.
“I love you, Layla.”
Chapter Five
Layla
The morning light is flooding in through the bedroom blinds. Rolling to my side, I notice I’m alone in bed, but Carter’s scent still lingers in the room. I must have finally passed out some time late into the night. Each time I would start to fall asleep, Carter would climb on top of me again. It was like he knew what I needed more than I did. He completely owned my body. By the time he was done with me, I felt like every part of me had been worshiped by him. There wasn’t an inch of me he left untouched. Glancing down, I can see the love marks he left all over my well-used body. He even whispered he loved me.
I look at the bedside clock and see it’s already ten o’clock. I stretch out and feel the pleasant ache in my muscles. Slipping to the edge of the bed, I reach for the sheet and wrap it around myself. I make my way through the house and check all the rooms, looking for any sign of Carter. When I get back to the bedroom I plop down on the bed and it causes me to wince. I didn’t notice the ache between my legs at first, but it’s a dull throb now. I’ll need to take some Tylenol.
I snatch my phone off the bedside table and go to call him, but then remember I don’t have his number. Maybe he had to run somewhere, or went to get us breakfast. That’s when I look over and see it. The picture I dropped in the prison four years ago. A picture of him. I had snapped it one day when I was playing around and had kept it close for years. It was always with me. I pick it up and it looks three times more worn than I remember. Carter wears that half-smile that only I could ever get from him. Flipping it over I see he’s written something on the back.
Everything I do is for you.
What does that even mean? I can’t believe he’s left. Lying back on the bed, I pull the sheet to my nose and inhale his scent, trying to fill my lungs with him. I attempt to convince myself he’ll be back any minute now. He wouldn’t leave me after last night. The things he said to me, the way he treated me—like I was his and his alone. At first I was pissed he was here but I knew I was just lying to myself. I kept telling myself I was moving on from him over
the years, but I wasn’t. He still entered my mind every day and my obsession with him never lessened with time. The pain did, but not the need or want for him. I’m not sure it ever will after last night.
When my phone goes off I grab it, clicking the accept button as fast as possible, praying it’s him.
“Carter?” I say hurriedly, hearing the panic in my own voice.
“Carter? Who’s this Carter you speak of, Lays?” Jeanette says. At the sound of my friend’s voice, tears spring to my eyes, and I feel the warmth of one slip down my face.
“Lays, you totally slipped out last night and hooked up with someone didn’t you, you little ho bag? Give me the details. Every. Single One.”
Closing my eyes tighter, I try to stop more tears from falling. I know if I start, I may never stop. I’ll just lie in this bed crying forever, until my body can’t produce another tear.
“Get your sweet ass back in here, Mama, I’m not done with that pussy yet,” I hear a man say in the background.
“Hold up! Can’t you see I’m on the phone, you fucking caveman? My vagina needs a freaking break. Doesn’t your jaw hurt by now? And holy fuck, did you take something? How is your cock hard, again? Jesus H. Christ,” Jeanette says in an irritated voice that doesn’t really seem that irritated at all.
“This is all your fault. Five minutes is all the time I’m giving you, Mama. Hop to,” the man I can only assume is Saint says.
“Lays?”
“I need you,” is the only thing I get out between choked sobs.
“I’m there,” Jeanette replies, and the line goes dead. I know she’ll be flying through my door in minutes as she lives just a few streets away.
I give myself over to the tears, and let the sobs take my body. Soon, I feel Jeanette’s arms wrap around me, holding me in silent comfort. I don’t know how long we lie there together but I know she’ll stay with me for as long as I need.
“I have so many secrets,” I finally whisper.
“I know, Lays, I know,” she whispers back.
I roll over to look at her and she wipes the tears from my cheeks.
“You do?” I question, unsure whether she really gets what I mean.
“A sweet girl like you, not having any friends or family is a sign of something wrong. I always thought you were running. At first I thought it was an abusive boyfriend, but I was never really sure. You don’t let men get too close, so it was the best guess I had.”
“You’re one to talk,” I hiccup back at her.
“Never said I didn’t have my own secrets. Maybe that’s why we work so well together. We’re always in the present, neither of us pressing each other about our past because we don’t want to have to answer about our own.” I’d never thought of it like that before, but she’s right. We never talk about our time before we were friends. Now I wonder what her secrets are.
Seeing the question in my eyes, Jeanette responds, “Mine are for another day, when I’m ready.”
“Mm-kay,” is all I say. I trust her to tell me when she’s ready. I wouldn’t want her pushing me about things I wasn’t ready to tell. But I’m ready to talk now. Carter told me last night I was free. I just didn’t know that meant free from him too.
“My real name is Layla O’Leary, not Layla Matthews. You might know my father, Dean O'Leary.”
When Jeanette gasps, I know she gets it now. Dean O'Leary is a well-known name in the papers and to top it off, the FBI has been looking for him for the past few years. I’ve been keeping my own tabs on my father on the internet the best I can but he seems to have disappeared without a trace.
I was shocked and relieved that my name somehow never got thrown into the mix. I kept waiting for my picture to pop on the news, but it never did. My father kept me so well hidden over the years I’m not even sure many know I exist.
“Holy shit,” is all she says.
“Yeah, holy shit. Let me start at the beginning. Well, what I can remember anyways.” As I tell Jeanette all that went on before I left, she just sits and listens with a few questions here and there. I tell her about my love of—and obsession with—Carter, the night I can’t remember and how it took him away from me. I tell her about the last time I went to the prison, and I tell her about running away. Then I go into last night.
“Wow, that’s all so crazy, Lays. And you think he’s gone?”
I just nod my head, not wanting to say it out loud. It’s all still so confusing to me. He said he loved me, that I’m his. He had my name on his chest but he kept saying he wasn’t good enough for me. Maybe that’s what won in the end.
“And all you know is he did eight years for manslaughter?”
“Yes, the man he killed was never identified. The report said he had no ID and no one could identify the body.”
“You’re upset because he’s gone? You want to be with him?” Jeanette asks, and I can tell she’s hesitant to push me.
“Yes. No. I don’t know.” Looking around, I find the picture of Carter and hand it to Jeanette.
“Jesus, he doesn’t look like a man to fuck with,” she says while turning it over and reading the back.
“I know he looks scary, but he was always so different with me. Well, he used to be. I think prison changed him. I hear they say that can happen.”
“But you’re free, right, Lays? He may have left, but you got that. He told you you’re okay to live now, to not be scared. Not having to be scared is a wonderful thing.” She’s right, but I feel longing in her words. Why is Jeanette scared?
“You’re right,” I say.
It’s time to really start living. I need to come to terms with the fact that a part of me will always love him. I need to stop trying to fight it. Embrace it and move on. In fact, I know just the way I want to do that.
“Will you come with me? I have a few places I want to go today,” I ask.
“Where to, Miss Lays?”
“I want to go look into getting a piano.”
“Fuck, I hear those things cost out the ass. This Carter dude leave some money before he split?” she jokes, trying to make me laugh.
“I have some ‘oh shit’ money I’ve been holding on to and I think I’m ready to use it now.”
“Sounds like a plan. We’ve got to stop and grab something to eat though, because the caveman fucked every calorie from my body,” Jeanette groans, jumping up from my bed.
“Also…I want to get a tattoo,” I blurt out.
Jeanette swirls around and gives me a look like she doesn’t know who I am. “Now we’re talking,” she says, doing her classic eyebrow wiggle. “Get that ass up, Lays. We got shit to do, and you can’t wear that sheet in public.”
Crawling from my bed, I grab a pair of black leggings, a cream off-the-shoulder sweater and a pair of pink peep-toes before I head into the bathroom. I drop the sheet and take a look at the marks Carter left all over my body. My mind flashes to the day I woke up in the hospital with a different set of marks. I’d wondered if I’d been raped that night, and no one would tell me. I had wondered that maybe my mind had blanked that part out, but last night I felt Carter slip past that barrier. Maybe that’s part of why I’ve been holding myself back. Carter said I was waiting for him, but maybe I was scared that the first time I’d have sex, I’d find out a shocking truth. Luckily, that didn’t happen.
Pulling my hair up, I turn on the shower and jump in. When I wash between my legs, I can still feel him there. I love and hate the feeling. I jump back out and quickly brush my teeth, re-pile my hair on top of my head and get dressed. Giving myself one last look in the mirror, I determine that this is the best it’s getting today. My eyes are still swollen but I can’t bring myself to care right now. I slip from the bathroom and grab the picture off my bed. I walk over to the trash can and toss it in.
“You sure you wanna throw that out?” Jeanette asks.
I nod my head and grab my purse and keys. I’m ready to start my new life. I won’t ever forget Carter or the gift of freedom he has gi
ven me but it’s time to move on with my life. It’s time to be free.
Two months later …
I hear the doorbell ring, and yell, “Be right there!”
I know it’s Justin but he’s ten minutes early and I still need to get dressed, having only done my hair and make-up. I look down and trace my finger over the tattoo I got two months ago. The days and weeks seemed to drag on since then, and a small part of me kept thinking Carter would show up. He didn’t. The tattoo of his name on my ribcage is a reminder that he would always own a part of me, even if at times I hated him.
Slipping a yellow sundress over my head, I grab a pair of woven wedges that will look perfect for the barbeque. I locate my bag and my phone and open the front door.
“You look great, Layla,” Justin beams, leaning in and giving me a kiss on my cheek.
“Thanks, same to you. You look more casual than usual,” I say. It’s true, because he normally wears suits. Today Justin has on khakis and a polo. With his blond hair and blue eyes he looks like a strapping, corn-fed good old boy.
“I thought I’d try something different for a change. You ready?”
“Yep,” I answer, and make my way down the sidewalk to his white Volvo. He opens the door for me, and I slide into the passenger seat.
Things with Justin have been good. We’re not dating anymore, and he asked to remain friends. I thought people always said that but never ended up doing it, but Justin really wanted to try. We seem to talk more now than we did when we were together. I don’t have many friends, besides Jeanette, so I’m trying to engage more with people. Plus it helps that he’ll always lend a hand when something goes wrong at my house. It’s nice to have a man you can rely on.
I was excited when Jeanette asked me to come over and barbecue at her place. The pool had just opened up in her complex, and I wanted to get a little sun. I’ve been spending my free time enjoying having a piano again, and haven’t really been making an effort to be sociable. I was happy when she invited me over, but shocked when she told me to bring Justin. I guess Saint who, shockingly, is still around, told her to play nice. Saint seems good for Jeanette, but she doesn’t really talk much about him. I don’t think she wants to show how in love she is when I’m still pretty broken up about Carter. I tell myself I’m moving on, but some days there’s no hiding from the lie. I’m interested to see how Jeanette and Justin behave today.