Page 14 of Starving for Her
James
Layla lookslike a goddess sitting legs-spread before me. She deserves the best of this world, and I’m going to give it to her. Her hair down there is soft as I make sure the sudsy lather is complete. I use one of my knuckles to gently stroke her and pull another gentle whimper from her plump lips. Kylie Jenner would be jealous of those things.
I can still see a slight hint of reservation in her eyes. “Trust me, gorgeous. I will never hurt you.”
“I—I trust you,” she says softly.
“Now just relax.”
Her breasts rise high on her chest as she takes a deep breath. I bring the blade to her skin, and with delicate precision I begin to shave her. I wash the blade in the water with each careful stroke and feel my cock pulse with anticipation as I reveal her gorgeous lips. I’ve been hungry all night, but now I’m starving for her.
I don’t stop until she’s bare. Then I set the razor aside and gaze at the beauty before me. I lick my lips and don’t even hide it. Her little hood is pulled back and I can see the cute pink button that I’m going to do terrible, terrible things to.
“You are so unbelievably beautiful,” I tell her. “Like a flower glistening just for me. It is just for me, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” she replies quickly.
“And now, gorgeous,” I growl, leaning in, my cock so hard it almost hurts. “I’m going to show you what I can do.”
Her scent fills my nose and just as I extend my tongue to her freshly shaven slit, the wall speaker blurts out a terrible buzz. It’s so loud and intrusive that it shakes Layla almost out of her seat.
“What was that!?” she gasps.
“Al,” I growl, getting to my feet. “It’s the emergency alert.”
“Emergency?” she asks, sounding scared. “Like—the house is on fire or something?”
“No,” I smile, walking to the speaker. “More likely that your friend tried to kill him or something.”
Layla laughs nervously as I thumb the call button. “What?”
“Sorry to interrupt, but I need you. Now.”
“Can it wait until tomorrow?” I groan, looking back at my goddess, whose eyes are hooded with eager lust.
“It can’t. I’m sorry.”
“Business related?” I ask him. There’s a long pause.
“Yes.”
He’s lying. Which means it can only be one thing. Her.
A deep anger rises inside me as I growl back a response and walk back over to the shower where Layla is waiting for me. She’s wet and ready and I have to leave her now.
“I have to go check on this,” I tell her.
“I understand,” she replies. She’s disappointed but she’s trying to hide it.
“I wouldn’t leave if I didn’t absolutely have to,” I say. And that’s the truth. “Wait for me. You have the run of the house. Go wherever you want. Nothing is off limits to you.”
It kills me to leave her, even for a second, but I grab a bathrobe, cinch it up around my waist—doing my best to conceal my hard-on—and head downstairs. Al’s waiting for me in the office.
“Where’s the other girl?” I ask.
“I sent her home,” he replies.
“She left without Layla?”