Thrusting my fingers between our bodies, I sought out her clit, rubbing and pinching it as she continued to ride me. As I lavished all my attention on her, needing to distract myself from the burning need to come, her hands rose, cupping her breasts and the sight of her pinching her nipples nearly brought me undone.
“Fuck you’re beautiful.” I breathed, still watching her, my eyes darting from her breasts to her face, to where I could see my cock sliding in and out of her, not wanting to miss a thing.
Her head fell forward a seductive smile on her lips, a smile I was sure she had no idea was as sexy and tempting as it was. Breaking away from the passion I saw blazing in her eyes I watched as I flicked my thumb over her clit and she cried out, her eyes rolling back just before I felt those feminine muscles of hers begin to spasm around me.
As the warmth of her release coated my cock I gave up the fight for control and tipped over the edge, joining her in a powerful orgasm. I flooded her, pumping her full of cum until finally I was spent. Sagging into the mattress, heart pounding, I struggled to get air into my lungs as the passion died away and my body started to ache. As the virus made its presence felt again, I coughed, hacking coughs that ripped through me hard enough that I nearly unseated Lyla.
Instantly a look of concern filled her eyes and her hands reached for me, fluttering over my face. “Oh Shay, I’m sorry. What was I thinking? You’re sick. We shouldn’t have done that.”
I opened my mouth ready to reassure her that it was fine, that I was fine but at that moment she raised herself from my body and when my cock slipped free of her, my eyes were drawn to how wet it was before turning to watch in horror as cum leaked from Lyla, sluggishly coating the tops of her thighs. As I stared at it, my stomach tightening into a hard knot, realisation finally hit. I’d just fucked Lyla without a condom.
Chapter Nineteen
Lyla
I knew as soon as I looked into Shay’s panicked eyes what was wrong with him. He was staring at his cock as if horrified by its appearance but I knew that wasn’t it. He was staring at his own release on it, at the wetness that covered it. Even the short, cropped hair that surrounded the base of it was matted from both our orgasms.
I watched him and I waited. I waited for the anger, the fear or to be slammed with accusations I’d done it deliberately, anything so he could justify the meltdown I was sure he’d have over the fact we’d just had sex without a condom.
Again his eyes shifted from my face to between my legs, to where his cum dribbled sluggishly from me. I could feel it, the dampness on my skin and I knew he would be about to go crazy. He was so particular about condoms. He never had sex without one, yet we’d just done exactly that.
Meeting his eyes again, I could see the fear in them, see his chest rising and falling rapidly and it wasn’t from exertion this time, it was anxiety. As I watched him freaking out, I knew I could no longer hide from him what my real reason was for coming to see him. It was time to tell him it was too late to worry about a condom. The deed had already been done. I was pregnant and ironically it had happened while using one.
“Fuck…fuck.” Shay began a mantra of cursing. “You’re not on the pill are you? You told me you’re not on the pill.” I could hear the panic in his voice and his breathing became more agitated. When he started coughing again my concern for his health took over and I placed a hand on his forehead to see if he was hot.
He felt warm. Not as hot as he’d felt earlier but clearly still not over this virus either. Ignoring his obvious distress I popped another couple of pills from the pack and handed them to him along with the last of his glass of water. As soon as he’d stopped coughing he took the pills and swallowed them but I could see the tremor in his hand as he held the glass. I couldn’t help but wonder if it was the virus or his anxiety over the lack of a condom that was making him shake the way he was.
“I made you some chicken soup. I wish you would have some. You need to keep your strength up.” I told him, my voice surprisingly calm as I stared down at him, pretending that he didn’t look like a powder keg about to blow.
He raised incredulous eyes to mine. “Soup? You want me to have fucking soup now?” He thrust his hands through his already messy hair. “Bloody hell. I thought I felt like shit before.” He stabbed a finger in my direction. “Why aren’t you freaking out? We had unprotected sex. I never have unprotected sex. I always use a condom. Why the hell did I do you bareback? What was I thinking?” He slapped his forehead before rolling his eyes at me. “That’s just it. I wasn’t thinking. I can’t fucking think with my brain all fuzzy like this. But you.” Again he stabbed a finger at me, his eyes narrowing. “You should have thought of a condom.”
I sat and watched him rant, surprisingly calm. I didn’t know why I was so calm. Maybe I was going into shock or something? Maybe I was crazy? Or maybe I just didn’t want to think about how Shay was going to react when I finally told him I was pregnant. If just forgetting a condom was going to cause him to nearly have a coronary I hated to think what the revelation he was going to become a father would do to him. The whole situation might have been comical if it wasn’t really so serious.
When he fell silent and collapsed back against his pillows I tried again. “So will you have some soup? It’s chicken soup.” I asked, totally ignoring his rant.
I was sure my calm exterior and failure to respond to Shay’s panic was driving him crazy and a part of me wanted to cause him to explode. I couldn’t even fathom why really. I think in my mind it would make it easy to hit him over the head with the announcement I was pregnant and then when he went into full meltdown, I could make my escape from his home.
He didn’t explode, although his expression darkened and the veins bulging in his neck did make me wonder if he might pop an artery or something. He glowered at me for a while, bristling with anger and frustration until suddenly slumping forward. Just like that he deflated, all the fight seeming to go out of him.
“Soup. Fuck. Fine. I’ll try and have some of your fucking soup.” He snarled.
I smiled, relieved I’d won that small battle. I also breathed a sigh of relief because I’d found a reason to be a coward a bit longer and hold off telling him about the baby for now. Hell, I was nervous about telling him before, but after his reaction to having sex without a condom I was even more worried. He was going to flip out and I tried valiantly to drown out the little voice inside my head screaming at me: ‘Chicken.’
Climbing to my feet I didn’t bother gathering up my own clothes to put on. I really needed a shower. I was all sticky from the sex. Shay might be sick but he hadn’t come like a sick man. He’d come like a man who hadn’t had sex in a while but I knew that couldn’t be the case. He was the Sex God and he probably scored more nights of the week than he didn’t. He didn’t earn that title by staying home watching TV after all.
Not bothering to ask if it was ok, I stepped into his walk through robe and grabbed a pale blue dress shirt off a hanger and slipped it on. It looked expensive and had a crisp laundered feel to it so probably not suitable for me to be wandering around his home in but I didn’t care. It was long on me, hanging to mid-thigh so it would provide me with cover while I went and heated up some soup for Shay.
When I emerged from the walk through robe his eyes roamed over me and I half expected him to bawl me out for wearing one of his shirts, but he stayed silent. Leaving him, I headed for the kitchen so I could heat up some soup. Hopefully he would eat it. The fact he hadn’t refused to at least try some this time, was a definite step in the right direction.
Once I’d heated a bowl of soup for Shay and buttered a roll for him, I hunted around his various cupboards until I found a tray to put everything on and armed with it, I carefully made my way back to his room.
When I entered his bedroom, he was lying flat in bed, one arm flung over his face blocking his eyes to me. My footsteps silent on the plush carpet I approached him, but he either heard me or sensed my arrival and his arm lifted, r
evealing those silvery blue eyes of his.
He watched me make my way slowly to him, trying not to spill any of the soup under his intense stare and when I reached the side of the bed, he dragged himself upright. When he was sitting with his back against the headboard, I carefully lowered the tray to his lap so he could eat.
For a long time, or at least it felt like it, he stared at the bowl. He didn’t speak or move, or react in any way, and I started to think he might actually refuse to eat it. His eyes rose to mine and I saw something in them, something I couldn’t read before his attention returned to the tray before him. This time he picked up the spoon and twirled it around between his fingers like it was a baton until finally dipping it into the soup and taking his first mouthful.
Shay
Ok, so as I ate the soup, I had to concede the woman could cook. I would give her credit where credit was due. Even in my current feeling like crap state, it was delicious. Still, despite it being good, I was sick and after eating about half of what was in the bowl and a few bites from the roll, I stopped. My stomach gave its first little warning flip and worried I might be sick I figured it was better to quit before it got to that.
“It was good. Thank you.” I offered up the reluctant compliment. I was surprised I’d managed to eat and enjoy anything when I was still worried about the fact Lyla and I had sex without a condom. I think what made it worse was her complete indifference to it all. Wasn’t she worried about a possible pregnancy? That was my worse fucking nightmare and she appeared so unconcerned about it all.
“Glad you liked it.” She shot me a tiny smile before lifting the tray off my lap. I watched her walk away with it and moments later, I heard her in the kitchen. With Lyla gone, I decided to take advantage of being alone and drag my aching body from the bed so I could take a leak.
Although the damn pills had helped a bit I was still surprised when I stood, just how weak I felt. ‘Not too weak to have sex without a condom,’ the voice in my head screamed as I dragged myself towards the bathroom, using the bed, walls and furniture for support.
With slow measured steps, I tried to ignore the dizziness and the way the room seemed to tilt and spin alarmingly. It was a relief that I managed to stay on my feet and not to go down in a pile of arms and legs. It was an even bigger relief when I made it to the bathroom to answer what had now become an urgent call of nature.
I’d just finished and made my way to the vanity basin to wash my hands and splash some cold water over my face when I heard Lyla’s voice.
“Jesus Shay. Why are you out of bed?” She eyed me off warily as if expecting me to go down in a crashing heap at any moment.
“If you’re going to force so much damn water on me then I’m going to need to take a piss.” I snapped, taking my frustration with my weakness out on her. Of course it wasn’t just that. It was the fact she looked so damn good and so fucking calm while I was a twisted mass of worry inside.
“Oh.” She blushed and her response made me laugh. Immediately my head throbbed as a painful reminder I was sick, and my laughter died away as I willed the headache to go. Clearly that was my karma for laughing at Lyla but I still found it amusing that fucking and blow jobs were ok but the thought that I pissed and shit like a normal person had her blushing like a virginal spinster.
I turned away from her and studied my image in the vanity mirror. I looked like death. Although I had a naturally olive complexion with my mother’s blood I still somehow managed to look pale. The only colour I had was a slightly ruddy hue to my cheeks, probably from the fever and there was a kind of glassiness to my eyes. Even my hair looked like shit. It hung limply around my face, the strands lank and lifeless. Overall, I really did look like crap. I needed to put my hair back up to get it off my face but I could already feel my body trembling from the effort it was taking to stay not just upright, but on my feet.
“Will you put my hair in a ponytail for me please?” I shot her a hopeful look which I suspected came off more pathetic than anything else. I forced my eyes to stay on hers and not let them move down the length of her at all. She looked too damn good in my shirt. Really fucking good. I had to stop letting myself get distracted by her, and I sure as hell needed to stop letting my dick rule me.
“Sure.” She said, stepping up behind me. I opened the drawer in front of me, finding a hair tie and a hairbrush which I then handed to her.
Through the mirror I watched as she began to gently brush my hair. She was very focused as she brushed the sweat dampened strands back into the sleek style I favoured. So much so, she didn’t notice that I was watching her through the mirror. Watching the way she made sure she never put the brush too close to the cut on my temple from when I’d blacked out in the kitchen and hit my head. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. Not so much the action of her brushing my hair, but the look on her face. The small lines that marred her brow as she concentrated and the endearing way she poked her tongue out of the corner of her mouth when she did something she was focused on.
As she ran the brush through my hair with long, slow sweeps I very nearly gave into the desire to close my eyes and savour the moment. I found it surprisingly therapeutic and images came to me of my mother brushing my hair when I was a small child. The only problem was, with those images of my mother, flashes of my father followed them and I tensed up, pulling away from Lyla’s touch.
“Fuck it. Thanks, but I’ll do it.” I turned to snatch the hair tie and brush from her hands and hastily tied my hair up before dropping the hairbrush on the vanity where it clattered noisily into the basin.
The sound it made caused me to flinch and my hands shot out, grasping the edge of the vanity as I supported myself, my head dropping forward. Frantically I began to suck in long deep, harsh breaths of air, struggling to push away the images flooding my mind and to regain some semblance of composure. Why? Why did I always fall apart around this woman? She was my kryptonite. My weakness and right now she was the witness to my panic attack.
Trying to ignore that Lyla was standing right near me, I made myself focus on my breathing, sucking air in deep, and letting it out slowly, each breath beginning to eliminate those images that tried to take over. Every breath slowly restoring my control.
Lyla was probably wondering what the hell was wrong with me but I couldn’t tell her. She wouldn’t understand. Well, she might understand that I was fighting a panic attack but she wouldn’t understand why. I had no intention of telling her. I had no intention of ever telling anyone what caused them.
When finally I felt my heart rate slowing and my breathing settling, I lifted my head, my tortured eyes meeting Lyla’s in the mirror. I searched hers, looking for something. Watching, waiting, wondering how she would react, but she surprised me when she stepped up close behind me and I felt her soft lips on my shoulder. Slowly, gently, she trailed them across from one side to the other, each kiss little more than a feather light caress on my skin. Her hands came up, gripping my shoulders and I felt the crispness of my shirt that she wore, pressing against my back. With her eyes on mine still, she reached up and finally broke away from my gaze, her lips settling on my neck where she nipped her way lightly up to my earlobe.
When her lips made it to my ear, I felt them brush against me and I shivered at her touch. “You’re so beautiful.” She breathed, her warm breath teasing me and I shuddered at her words. A deep, all-encompassing shudder as I absorbed not only her touch, but what she’d said.
I didn’t want to think about how much I enjoyed her touch. How much I liked the way she held me. The way her body pressed against mine and I sure as hell didn’t want to think about how much I liked what she’d said to me. It felt so good. She felt so good. Having her with me, taking care of me felt so damn good. Too good really. So good it scared me because I realised I’d been kidding myself thinking I didn’t want this woman.
The truth was, I couldn’t get enough of her. That’s why I couldn’t fuck other women. That’s why I’d failed to get an erection aroun
d another woman. I wanted this one too much and that right there was the problem. I couldn’t have her. I was fucked up. Damaged goods. Tarnished. Unclean, dirty and unworthy of someone like her. She deserved so much better than me. I had to remember that and not weaken. I couldn’t have her. I never would be able to. I’d only end up hurting her.
Her lips on me again, distracted me and I hissed when her teeth nipped my earlobe. As the small pain registered her tongue came out and she licked her way from my lobe, down my neck to my shoulder and I shivered. Jesus, she licked me and with that one sweep of her tongue on me, I hardened, wanting her with every fibre of my being.
My eyes met hers in the mirror again and I could see the passion burning in them. The tension in the bathroom rose and the air almost crackled with the current that passed between us. I wasn’t imagining it. She wanted me every bit as much as I wanted her. Not only could I feel it, I could see it in the way her nipples pressed like rock hard pebbles against my shirt.
With that realisation all common sense and rational thought flew out the window. Turning towards her, frantic, with none of my usual control present, I grabbed her, hauling her towards me. She bounced against me from my rough handling and without hesitating, I thrust her against the vanity, her back to me. One hand settled between her shoulders and I pressed down, forcing her to bend over, the position pushing her gorgeous ass out towards me, revealed when my shirt she wore hitched up.
The sight of Lyla exposed, inflamed my passion even more and I stepped up behind her, using one foot to encourage her to spread for me. With hands shaking, I closed a fist around my cock and guided it between her legs, seeking her entrance. I found her already wet and ready for me, and I didn’t hesitate, plunging into her, all of my usual finesse gone.
She cried out and I hesitated for a moment, my eyes seeking hers in the mirror. Her blue locked with my silvery blue and all I could see was the flush of arousal on her cheeks and her teeth burying themselves in her full bottom lip. Her mane of pale blonde hair swung forward and I hesitated for a moment spellbound by her beauty.
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