Beyond Layers: Layer Series Book Four (Layers Series 4) (10 page)

Soon the bathing turns into a breast-flesh loving frenzy. Never have I begged a man to stop sucking on my nipples, but his talented lips and tongue feel like torture after a few minutes. Never have my ta-tas been so loved, so worshiped, and so stimulated to the point I could come. Logan Romano is a tits man. An honest to God, tits-licking, sucking, playing, tits-master.

“God, Logan, I’ve never….”

“I’m just getting started, angel.”

And oh-my-sweet-boy, he wasn’t kidding. Trailing his perfect lips down my belly, over my narrow landing strip, he touches down right on target. The master paints his next masterpiece with his tongue: lending, layering, feathering, wet-into-wet, over and over, again and again. When I come undone under his masterful lips, he licks and sucks his canvas clean and begins anew.

Three masterpieces complete, I find myself still wanting.
Sam, you greedy little bitch.
But I can’t help it. I need more; I need to be attached, to be filled, to be taken. I need to be fucked.

“Logan,” I breathe. “I need… Please.”

“Tell me what you need,” he whispers over my swollen clit.

I tug on his hair. He stops mid-glazing, looking up at me with those beautiful brown eyes.

I silently beg him to relieve my wantonness. Never in my life have I wanted a man to fill me, to take me, to paint me with his seed, tame me with his aching need, more than this man, more than at this moment.

Message received, he grabs his shorts off the floor and removes a condom from a no-longer- hidden pocket. He tears it open with his teeth and rolls it down his beautiful cock like the love-master he is.

The veins in his neck pulse, the muscles in his biceps flex, his corded and packed chest and abs heave with restraint. His body is saying,
fuck her hard and fast
, but he somehow seems to sense or understand this is more than a fuck to me; it’s a new beginning.

He leans his big, hard perfection over me. Giving me half his weight, he nuzzles my neck. I breathe in his maleness, his strength, his need. He lifts himself off me and I touch his flesh for the first time. As I run my left hand down his cheek, it melts into my palm, and his eyes close. The spirit of a kindred, of an old soul, filters through my palm, floating down my arm, before bathing my heart.

I let my right hand trek down his muscled shoulder and back, coming to rest in the middle of his solid left ass cheek. He opens his eyes, looking into mine. And I know, even if our coming together only lasts for an hour, a day, a week, I know I’ll remember it for a lifetime. I’ll never forget the determined yet solemn look on his face. I’ll never forget the solid perfection of his body. Never forget the smell of his need and his haunting lust-filled sad eyes.

“Samantha,” he whispers. “I want you, need you, but if you’re not ready, we don’t—”

My left hand wraps around his neck and I pull him down, joining our lips. “Take me, Logan.”

And he does. He slowly and reverently pushes his big, throbbing cock into me.

And I won’t lie, because I’m not good at it. It hurts, burns even. He’s stretching me, pulling and filling this girl as no man has. When he’s fully seated, he pauses. Giving me a moment. I suck in a breath. I thought he was teasing me, but now I’m not so sure. He truly might be too much for this girl to handle. I feel as if I’m swelling around him, encasing him; I’m becoming his mold.

His breath hitches as his brown eyes seek out mine. “Samantha,” he breathes.

“I know. I’m sorry, it’s a little snug.”

“Damn, angel. Don’t ever apologise for being tight. I feel like a fucking king right now.”

“I don’t know about a king, but most definitely a King Kong.”

He chuckles. “Angel. I’m wrapped, cocooned by your wet, hot pussy, ready to explode, and you make me laugh.”

Feeling his cock impatiently twitching, I inhale, and then exhale, slowly. “Okay, Kong. Show this girl what she’s been missing.”

And he does, setting a slow rhythm until I beg him for more. Beg him for harder, faster. After that, it’s all a blur, as he fucks me like I know only he can. I come hard once, then twice.

He joins me minutes later. “Fuck, angel. You are this man’s heaven.”

F
rom the first moment my eyes landed on Samantha, she became mine, my angel. Don’t ask me how I knew, because I won’t be able to answer you; it’s not something I can explain in words. All I knew, and know, is that she has some kind of power over me. Call it voodoo, call it witchcraft, call it fate, it doesn’t matter; it just simply is. I might not know what to call it, but I do know it’s a power that can lead me to heaven or banish me to hell.

The moment I slid my big, fat, throbbing cock into her tight pussy, I became hers. I knew she’d bring this man to his knees. I would beg to touch her, beg for her touch, beg to know her, to let me in.

My angel has been sleeping on my shoulder for the last hour; I can’t seem to close my eyes, to take them off her. I’m afraid she’ll leave, disappear, or I’ll wake up and realize she was a figment of my imagination, an impossible dream. I tuck a strand of her long blonde hair behind her ear. She is so goddamn beautiful I can hardly believe I’m the guy lying next to her, the guy who just fucked her for hours until she begged me stop.
Logan Romano, you’re in so much fucking trouble.

She is so different from the women I’ve been with. Many of them puck bunnies or women who want to ride my stick because I handle one for a living. Sam is nothing like those women; maybe I imagined it, but she seemed turned off by the fact I play in the NHL. If that’s the case, maybe that’s why she won’t tell me her last name or anything about her. Maybe she thinks I’m nothing but a stickhandling manwhore.
Fuck me. I am a stickhandling manwhore.

Her eyes flutter open and she looks up at me with those aqua eyes. “Hey.”

I kiss her forehead. “Hey.”

“How long have I been asleep?”

“Not long.”

She runs her hand down my shadowed cheek. “You’re one beautiful man, Mr. Romano.”

I bring my lips to hers. “Angel, you’re breathtaking.”

Rolling over, she winces.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m sore, Mr. Fucked Me Seven Times,” she teases.

“I believe it was eight.”

She snorts. “You were counting?”

“Of course.”

“Did you count the number of orgasms I had as well?”

“Or course. Fifteen.”

She shakes her head and kisses her way down my neck and pecs. She pauses over a scar on the upper left quadrant of my chest, running a finger over it. “What happened? This scar looks new.”

I want to tell her, but something tells me, warns me, not to.

My angel’s lips gently run over it. I wonder for a second if she’s figured it out. Then she looks up at me. “You don’t have to tell me, Logan. I understand.”

“It’s nothing, angel,” I say, kissing her forehead. “Got hit with a biscuit.”

Her brow wrinkles. “A biscuit?”

“A puck.”

“Oh.” She smiles. “So what do you call a stick?”

“Lumber.”

She preforms an exaggerated roll of her eyes.

“Hockey has its own lingo,” I tell her.

“I’ve heard my brother-in-law and nephews say a few things.”

“Like what?”

She runs a finger over my lips. “Chicklets
.
I believe it means teeth.”

I nod. “Or jibs, or bad jibs. What else have you heard?”

She bites her lower lip. I’ve watched her do this when she seems nervous or is thinking. “Something about riding the pine.”

“It means sitting on the bench.”

“Of course it does,” she says, as she pushes me onto my back and straddles me.

She kisses her way down my chest, pausing just below my right rib cage. “And this scar?” she asks and kisses it.

“Skate blade.”

She frowns and continues on her journey, pausing to kiss a scar just above my right hip.

“Appendix,” I tell her before she asks.

She makes her way on down my body, kissing each scar as I tell her about each of them. By the time she finishes just at my right ankle, I’m rock solid. I feel as if I could fuck her forever and I’d never be satisfied, never get enough.

She kisses and licks her way back up. When she reaches where I want to be kissed the most, she flattens her perfect tongue and licks from base to leaking tip.

I moan as she spreads my legs and kneels between them. “I must say, Mr. Romano, I’ve never seen such a beautiful penis. God stopped making molds after he made yours.”

How many penises have been surrounded by your perfection, angel
? I have no right to think, or to ask this, but I want to. The thought of her lips on or around any other cock makes me…. I push the thought out of my mind and just feel.

“It was made for your God-stopping-mold of a pussy.”

She smiles around my cock. “I was being quite serious, Mr. Romano.”

“So was I, Ms.—Sam.”
Please, tell me your last name.

She reaches for a condom and rips it open with her teeth. Then… fuck me until Christmas. She puts it in her mouth, gently blows, and rolls it on down my needy cock.

“Good God, angel. That was hot.”

She smiles. “I’ll show you something hot.” Straddling me, she slowly sinks on down.

“Fuck me, Sam.”

She leans over, pressing her lips to mine. “That was the plan, Mr. Romano. I just need a minute.”

“Sore?”

She nods. “You fill me like I’ve never been filled, Mr. Romano.”

“You do things to me, make me feel things, I’ve never felt, Sam.”

Our lips lock and she begins her ride. It’s slow, deep, and sexy as hell. I don’t believe this woman, this angel stroking me, has a clue how stunning, how complete and perfect she is. Samantha, my mystery angel, is the real deal, the one in a million, the one you only dreamt about.
What the hell, Romano?

I feel my balls tighten and I know I’m about to explode. But there’s no way I’m going to come before my angel does. I sit up and grab her ass. Flipping her onto her back, I lean over her.

She frowns and pinches my right nipple.

“Hey. What was that for?”

“I wanted to give you pleasure. Wanted to make you come.”

I kiss the tip of her nose. “I’ll come, angel, but not before you do.”

I grind into her as I circle my hips.

She moans. “God, Logan. You make me come undone.”

You have no idea, angel.

“Holy hell. I love your stick,” she says, all breathy.

“My stick loves you.”

“God, Logan, I’m…”

“Let go, beautiful girl. Come for me.”

“Oh my hell, Logan. I’m…”

She comes long and hard. I follow, longer and harder.

I place my head on her shoulder, catching my breath. “Angel, that was….”

She runs a hand through my hair and down my back. “Heaven, Logan. That was heaven.”