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Later that night, sleep didn’t come easy. I tossed and turned, thinking about Maddox and our upcoming trip to Paris. Was this going to be a mistake? Maybe. Probably.
But I couldn’t say no, and I wanted to spend this time with him.
Just the two of us.
The ache between my legs was back again, my body tensing with frustration.
Ever since that night – the night Maddox was drunk, my body had been on fire, burning, skin tight with need and aching.
And no matter how much I masturbated, I still felt so empty after, never fully satisfied.
My clit swelled and throbbed. Reaching over, I grabbed my second pillow and pressed it between my legs. My eyes squeezed shut as I rocked my hips, back and forth, against the pillow, trying to alleviate the pulsing ache in my pussy. I underestimated how much I wanted Maddox.
My need intensified, and I throbbed harder. Pushing a hand between my thighs, I shoved my panties aside, and my fingers grazed my folds, pushing my wet lips apart and then moving higher to my swollen clit. I rubbed and pressed against the bundle of nerves there, while grinding my pussy faster against the pillow, rubbing my exposed, sensitive flesh against the soft fabric. The friction almost had me losing my mind, but it still wasn’t…enough.
My hand matched the rhythm of my hips. My index finger probed my entrance, and when my pussy clenched, seeking to be filled, I slowly thrust my finger inside. Oh God, oh God!
My breath hitched, and I grew hotter, my sticky wetness dripping between my legs–a reminder of how wrong this was, but I still moaned out Maddox’s name.
I pinched my clit, rocking my hips faster. I imagined it was Maddox between my legs. I imagined it was his cock pushing against my entrance, not my small fingers.
I imagined him pulsing inside me, filling me… thrusting inside… grunting out my name.
My body tightened, and my hips jerked against the pillow as I rode out my mini orgasm; my panties were drenched and my fingers wet and coated with my release. A low whine spilled from my lips, “Maddox.”
I rubbed my finger over my pussy-lips, imagining it was his lips on my pussy, before I pulled my hand out of my panties. My legs were slack against the pillow; my inner thighs still sticky with my release.
I didn’t have the energy to get up and change. My eyes fluttered close, and I fell into a restless sleep.
Maddox invaded my dreams. I felt his kisses… saw his handsome face… felt his touch sliding down my body.
Hot tears slid down my cheeks, because it was only a dream, only my fantasy.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Maddox
I was angry. At myself, at Lila, at everyone… everything and at fate.
I’d lost my way with Lila, and I didn’t know how to pull her out from under my skin.
We landed in Paris, and my stomach twisted with fury and unwarranted possessiveness as men stared at Lila. Their gaze followed her, lingering over her ass. I told myself I wasn’t jealous – just protective of her. These assholes wouldn’t know how to handle a woman like Lila.
By the time we reached our hotel, frustration gnawed at my gut, and I was just so fucking angry, I couldn’t think straight.
Nothing made sense – not my reaction to Lila or the stormy emotions I couldn’t understand why I was feeling.
Friends didn’t think about fucking each other.
But that was exactly what I wanted to do. I wanted to hear her moan my name, I wanted her to whimper as my dick stretched her tight cunt, I wanted… needed… Lila.
This wasn’t just lust. I craved her lips and the sound of her voice. She made me feel unhinged, my emotions too wild to control. I loathed how easily Lila could break through my barrier–she could rip me apart and put me back together, again and again–I was her more than willing victim.
I wanted to possess her. And I couldn’t.
Lila was sunshine mixed with a little hurricane, and I was getting swept away. I was going to put a stop to it.
It had to come to an end and soon, before we both did something we’d regret for the rest of our lives. I was willing to peel Lila off from under my skin, even if it left me bleeding and mortally wounded.
My eyes flickered to Lila, watching her smile at the receptionist. Sunkissed skin, soft lips, pinkened cheeks and brown eyes that captured me since that day at the coffee shop, almost four years ago.
“Bonjour,” a voice broke through my thoughts. “How are you doing today?”
A man appeared at Lila’s side, suited and standing tall. His gaze landed on her tits first before they lifted to her face.
Lila nodded in greeting, and they shook hands. He introduced himself as the owner of the hotel, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiled at Lila. It was written all over his face.
