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He was having an erotic dream? About her?
That didn’t merely panic her. Oh, she felt the shaking anxiety. Her heart rate went jittery. But she also felt something warmer she couldn’t explain. Maybe it had something to do with the sight of him spread out underneath her, all male and muscled and surprisingly nonthreatening.
He’s asleep, you fool. As soon as he wakes up…
Laila didn’t have to finish that thought. History told her what he would most likely do.
Time to redouble her efforts and make him climax quickly.
His free hand joined the first, this one sliding into her hair. He wrapped his fingers around her tresses and gave a gentle tug to pull her mouth off his penis. Then he nudged her back onto his erection with a tender suggestion from his fingers and moaned her name once more.
Another anxious glance at his face suggested he slept on. She could still get out undetected.
A terrified part of her wanted to defy his silent promptings and simply run away. But she’d learned to be pragmatic.
Laila gave in to the rhythm he set, closing her eyes, trying to separate her mind from her body and float away someplace else so she didn’t have to be—yet again—giving a man pleasure at her own expense. Except…Trees’s scent and gentle hands kept her in the here and now. The way he stroked her head. The way his moans sounded like praise. The way he rolled his hips under her, seemingly in thanks.
“Laila…” he whispered slow and soft.
Appreciation dripped from his sensual, sleepy groan. She wasn’t eager to continue exactly, but for the first time, she didn’t hate this act. A dangerous curiosity urged her on… She didn’t feel like his victim but like a seductress working for her lover’s pleasure.
That excited her. And it disturbed her, too.
Softly, she hummed. Victor had often demanded she do that because he liked the sensation. Trees also enjoyed it, if the low moan that suddenly tore from his throat was any indication.
Laila would have sworn it wasn’t possible, but Trees got harder. His end must be near.
That realization was bittersweet. The fact she didn’t loathe this act… It was a shock, a revelation. For the first time, she had some control over what happened between her and a man. She could exert her will, and he was merely along for the ride.
Oddly, it was…exciting.
She took more of him in her mouth, bobbing, sucking, swirling her tongue around him, experimenting to find what made him stiffen and moan. When his crest prodded the back of her throat, she paused. Victor and Hector had both demanded that she swallow on them. Would that maneuver work on Trees? Would it be the thing that sent him into climax?
Laila dragged in a deep breath and worked her throat over him. He groaned again, this time louder, deeper. His hand tightened in her hair, and she braced for him to force her down onto his cock until she couldn’t breathe. But he didn’t. He merely urged her lower with a prod from his fingers and another lift of his hips. He was firm but not harsh. Urgent but not forceful.
She’d never experienced anything like this.
So she did it again.
Once more, a verbal growl of need tore from his throat. The subversive part of her was thrilled. Why? She was stimulating him in his sleep, against his will. If she enjoyed his reaction, did that make her any better than Victor and Hector?
Laila pushed the horrible question aside. She wasn’t hurting Trees. And she wasn’t taking him in her mouth for her own selfish pleasure. She would give him something he seemingly wanted. And in return, she would get something she needed. After all, everything came at a price. She’d learned that long ago. And she was merely paying up front for her freedom.
After she took another long draw on his steely staff, Trees’s fingers tightened in her hair. To her shock, she didn’t despise that, either, especially when his breaths turned choppy and his body went taut.
He was close.
Another deep plunge into her mouth while she worked him at the back of her throat ought to send him tumbling into ecstasy…then sleep.
But when she lowered herself onto his massive cock again and positioned him against her throat, he stiffened beneath her. And he called out her name. “Laila!”
She glanced up. His eyes were open and dilated—and fixed on her.
Trees was awake. Uh-oh.
Laila froze. Anxiety seared her veins.
“What are you doing?” he asked through gritted teeth. Every muscle in his body shook and strained as he fought need.
Stop…or continue?
Her thoughts raced as breaths rushed in and out of her nose. Seconds ticked by. He tugged on her hair again, tight enough to take control. She was hyperaware of his touch, of the heaviness and masculine flavor of him on her tongue.
