Stay For Me - Megan Smith Page 0,68

I pound into her relentlessly. A deep feeling of peace enters me. “I love you.” I grunt out.

“Oh baby,” Layla groans shifting around for another angle. “I love you, too.”

I pull out, flip her over and enter her from behind. She loves it this way and so do I. In this position I can go deeper. Leaning forward, over Layla’s body I grip the other end of the desk. I thrust hard, so hard, she stops breathing and her body goes rigid.

“Fuck yes.” She moans loudly as I pull almost all the way out.

I nip her shoulder. “You like that?”

“Yes, God, yes.”

I do it over again just as slow and hard as the first time. If I keep doing this I’m only going to last another few minutes. Layla’s body, being in tune with mine, starts to tremble. “I’m going to come.” She pants.

I pick up the speed chasing her orgasm along with mine.

“Fuck.” Layla pushes back against me. “Harder, harder.”

A long, drawn out moan escapes her as she gives in to her pleasure. The pulses of her orgasm push me over and I come inside her, the pleasure is pure and explosive. I lean against her back trying to catch my breath before pulling out.

Layla lays there for a minute longer and then starts laughing.

“Laughing after sex isn’t always a good sign.”

Layla turns over and sits up on my desk. “Laughing during sex at all means you’re doing it right.” She winks.

“Well, then laugh all you want.” I smile.

She crooks a finger at me and kisses me on the lips. “Sing to me.” Layla asks with sleepy eyes. “Please.”

I pull my pants up before walking over and picking up the acoustic guitar that is sitting in the corner of our office. I take a seat back in my chair and strum the guitar. Layla gets up on my desk, lays back, still completely naked, and watches as my fingers move.

I sing one of Layla’s favorite songs, Ron Pope’s Last First Kiss. She watches my every move and there is so much love and meaning behind this song for us. Her eyes close as she listens to the words of the song, her knee rocks back and forth to the song. I strum the last cord, “Someone I can’t live without.” Those words make me think of the ring that’s sitting in the back of the drawer right under where she’s laying.

Layla smiles at me with watery eyes. “I’ll never get tired of hearing that song.”

“And I’ll never get tired of playing it for you.” I smile to myself. It’s time. I reach into the drawer and search around until I find the little box that I’m looking for.

Layla sits up and yawns. “I’m so sleepy.”

My hand lands on it. I pull it out, Layla’s eyes follow my hand and her breath hitches. A hand goes up to her mouth as I open the lid of the box.

I get down on one knee and hold the box out for her to see the ring I’ve picked out. “We’ve always done stuff the slow and cautious way.” I smile. “But this is one thing I don’t want to wait for.” The tears slip from Layla’s eyes. “Will you marry me?”

Her hand falls away from her face as she looks to me. A beautiful smile lights up her face. “Yes, yes yes.” I place the ring on her finger and then she leaps from the desk and wraps her arms around me.

We fall back to the floor laughing. I tuck a hand under my head while she’s sitting on top of me admiring the ring. “I can’t believe this.” She squeals. “Oh my God I’m getting married.” She stomps her feet.

I laugh.

Layla leans down to kiss me. Her hips start to rock back and forth against me. I reach up and stop her. “Later.” I laugh and slide her off me. Stopping her is the last thing I want to do but I have things I have to get done.

I climb to my feet and then help her up.

“Get going.” I tell her picking up her skirt from the floor. “I’ve got to finish this payroll up and then I’ll be right behind you.”

Layla leans down, picks up her shirt and laughs remembering that I ripped the shirt off her. “Give me your shirt.”

I reach for my spare shirt and hold it out so she can slip her arms into it. She starts to roll the sleeves up. “I’ll wait for you.”

Shaking