Loving Ean (The Fae Guard Book 2) (10 page)

“Yes!” She tightens her legs and slides her arms up my chest to my head where she grabs fistfuls of my hair and viciously yanks. “Now, Ean. Shut your mouth and fuck me.”

Laila has an amazingly dirty and incredibly creative mind, and when she gets filthy during sex, I burn. Heat courses through me, and desperate for relief, I start pounding into her with every bit of my strength. At first, she bites my shoulder to keep quiet but I am obsessed with the sounds she makes during sex. It’s hot as fucking hell. The sounds of yelling and cheering from the other room are muffled but loud enough for me to know that they would drown out any of our noise.

“Don’t hold back on me, baby. Your pussy is squeezing my cock so tight. I want to hear you, tell me how my cock feels inside. How much you want me to fuck you so hard you’ll never want another filling you up.”

She shudders at my words and I pull out all the way to the tip and hold still (I have no fucking clue how I manage it). She growls in frustration and tilts her hips trying to take me back in. “Tell me, baby.” I command.

“You fill me, Ean. Every inch of you stretches me and molds my pussy to you. I need you to fuck me with everything you’ve got.” In appreciation of her surrender, I clench my hands on her hips for leverage, slam back inside, and am rewarded with a scream.
Yes.
When she screams my name, I feel like I’ve conquered the fucking world.

“Ean! Oh! Yes!” She’s let it all go now and doesn’t try to hold back. “Fuck me harder!”

I shore up every single bit of my energy and fuck her like she wants, bottoming out on every thrust. I can feel how drenched she is, her pussy so wet that I slide in and out with ease. “Fuck, Laila. My cock is covered in your cream. Fuck! Yes!”

Laila’s back arches and I lower my head to bite down on one of her nipples. I change my angle to hit her in just the right spot and with one more thrust, she shoots off like a rocket. “Yes, Ean! Yes! Yes!” Her screams bring me to the brink, the way her pulsing pussy sucks my cock tight has my orgasm ripping through me.

“Laila! Fuck, baby!” I continue to pump into her as we ride the waves. As the manic emotions start to regress, through my haze of lust, I notice that I’m still as hard as a fucking rock.
Holy shit!
My thrusts had started to calm but now I pick up their intensity again. “I want one more, baby,” I command. Laila shakes her head wildly, her eyes shut tight, and her body twisting in an attempt to stop me from building her up again. “Yes, baby. Fuck! Come on, Laila. One more—oh fuck!”

The sensations are barreling through me and I know I’m about to explode again. I grip onto the strings of my sanity and hold back the rushing tide, but increase the pounding of my cock. She’s no longer protesting, she’s back to screaming my name.

“Ean! Yes! Yes! Fuck!”

I want to see it. I want to see what she feels through her eyes. I shouldn’t, there is an attachment that is strengthened through that connection, one that I’ve studiously avoided. This time I give in. I need it. “Open your eyes, baby. Let me watch you come.” She pries open her lids and meets my intense gaze. They are clouded with passion and so fucking beautiful that I know I’ve just crossed a line. One I can never come back from. Fated or not, Laila will truly own me, forever.

Running my hand down over her breasts, her stomach, and down to her swollen clit, I flick it hard and she gives me what I wanted. Together, we both enter another stratosphere; another time, another place, where it’s just us. No worries, no obligations, nothing but our souls meeting as one. I grasp at that reality with all of my might, terrified to let it go. With each attempt to grip it, it slips further and further away until I’m once again in a guest bedroom at Brannon’s house, staring down at the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known, will always want, and can never have.

I CAN’T THINK. WHAT
the hell just happened?
You had your world rocked, that’s what happened.
Oh, Right.

I try to shake my head and clear away some of the fog, but I’m so depleted of energy that I can’t move. I’m vaguely aware that Ean has collapsed beside me, probably in much the same state as me. You know that whole idea where humans take something and it gets twisted until it’s too fantastical to be real? That’s how I thought romance novels were. Apparently . . . I was very wrong. I’m pretty sure I counted three . . . right? Damn.

It seems like its hours later when Ean finally clears his throat to speak. “I . . . are you ok?”

Fan-fucking-tastic.
But I don’t say that. “Yeah.”

“Ok. Well . . . um. We should probably get back out there before anyone notices that we’ve been gone.”

At this moment. I’m grateful for my comatose state. My body can’t muster up the tears to go with the giant hole he just punched in my chest. I’ve got to stop this. Logically, I know that I’m not changing Ean’s mind; I need to end this and try to move on. I don’t know how. I don’t know how to turn him away when our time together helps keep him a little less broken. I can’t stop hoping that he’ll wake up and realize that he is worth it. That
we
are worth it. We are at our best together, our souls are meant to be one.

This isn’t what happens though. In all reality, he is using me. Taking just enough to survive each day, then walking away from commitment and responsibility. The thing is; I’m just as much to blame. I let him use me. To be honest, as pathetic as it may make me, I’ll take this over nothing.

My heart has finally returned to a steady beat and I feel the strength returning to my limbs. I can feel Ean’s restless movements beside me, telling me that he is also gaining back the use of his body. He sits up and I stifle a sigh at what I know is coming. Standing, he grabs a wad of tissues and takes care of the condom, then gathers up his clothes and begins to dress. All the while, not one glance in my direction. Silently, I get up and follow his lead, slipping back into my jeans and jersey.

Still avoiding my gaze, he does a cursory look about the room to see if we’ve missed anything. Apparently he’s satisfied that we’ve cleaned up all traces of our little rendezvous because he walks to the door and grasps the handle. Once it’s open, he motions for me to exit first. At the opening, I pause in front of him and wait until he finally lifts his eyes to mine. I scrutinize his blue depths, searching for any difference after what we shared. No. He has shut me out once again.

“No regrets.” I leave him with the same words as always.

And, like always, he says nothing in return.

I step out into the hall and come to a sudden stop. Brannon is just leaving his room at the end of the hall. He smiles and opens his mouth to speak, but then his eyes dart past me and his lips come together in a grim line. I can only imagine what he is seeing: rumpled clothes, messy hair, swollen lips, and glowing skin. This is the second time he has run into us in this state, but this time, there is no question what just happened. It’s pretty damn clear. Brannon starts toward us but his eyes are on Ean. I decide to let him deal with it and walk away, albeit slowly, so that I can eavesdrop a little.

“Dude,” Brannon’s voice is low and accusatory, “Please tell me you did not just fuck Aden’s sister with him in the next room.”

“Watch how you fucking talk about her, Brannon,” Ean growls.

Silence.

“Relax.” Ean’s voice is laid back now, almost nonchalant. “We were just blowing off some steam. Don’t make more of it than it is.”

His words cause tears to prick behind my eyes. One of the worst things about complete honesty is that you can’t pretend that someone is lying to save yourself from pain. Ean truly believes that’s what we are. And, somehow, I’ve let him continue to believe that I’m ok with it. Yep, I’m as much to blame for this as he is. I blink away the moisture. I don’t deserve to wallow in self-pity, especially since I know, the next time he comes to me, I won’t turn him away.

Wiping away the moisture on my face, I detour into the kitchen to grab a beer and a new bag of chips. Then, I paste on a fake smile and slip back into the den. For the most part, everyone is still engrossed in the game and I’m able to grab a seat near the door without bringing attention to myself. The beer and chips give me a somewhat plausible excuse for having left. Hopefully, they don’t notice that it took me forty five minutes to get my snacks.

After another ten minutes or so, Ean and Brannon make their way back to the room. Ean’s face is impassive, his usual expression as of late. Brannon’s still looks slightly irritated and I feel like a coward when I turn away to avoid eye contact.

I make a concentrated effort to push the last hour out of my head and enjoy myself. As the evening continues, the fun and laughter around me draw me in and I’m able to forget for a while. I go home with a genuine smile and fall into bed. My door locked.

Oooomph!
I fall backward onto my butt, the wind knocked out of me by the girl who landed on my chest. “Laila! Holy cow! I’m so sorry. Are you ok?” She scrambles off frantically and stares down at me, her wide blue eyes filled with worry.

“Yeah, Zanna, I’m good.” I cough the words out as the oxygen returns to my lungs. Hopping up, I dust myself off, swiping at it with vigor born of irritation at the incident. I’ve been teaching Zanna to use the wind to propel herself forward and stood in front of her to push her back in the event that she lost control. When I saw Ean’s car pull into the parking lot, it drew my attention away from what we were doing. I want to kick myself for being so careless, especially in front of a student. What kind of example am I setting?
A really good example of how to get yourself killed.

I sigh and own up to my stupidity. “I lost my focus, so let’s chalk this up as a lesson in what
not
to do.”

Zanna chuckles softy, “Sure thing, Laila. This means I get full marks in the course, right? We wouldn’t want it getting around that a student kicked your ass or anything.” She’s backing away as she speaks and giving me a sly grin.

Taking advantage of her vulnerable position, I bring water to the surface of the ground behind her, saturating it just enough to easily become mud. Two more steps back and she slips, mimicking my previous position by landing on her ass. The mud cushions the fall and when her arms fly out to catch herself, they plop into the sludge, spraying it up and covering her in brown spots. Her pale face, frozen in disbelief, begins to tinge with a rosy glow and she bursts out laughing, prompting me to release the mirth I’ve been trying so hard to suppress.

“Not paying attention,” she chortles, “Touché, Laila. Touché.”

I make a wide, sweeping bow, “Thank you. You’ve been a wonderful audience. I’ll be here all week. Be sure to tip your waitress.”

Zanna jumps up and plops her hands onto her waist, “Movie quote?” she asks.

“Seriously? You don’t know
Ace Ventura?
You’re half human!” She shakes her head at me and laughs. I roll my eyes at her playfully, and then gesture toward the tall, stone and glass structure across the field, “We’re done for the day and the longer I stand here, the colder I get. So, hit the showers, and I’ll see you tomorrow in the training room. I’ve got you set up to spar with Orin, so bring you’re A-game, girl.” I reach out to give her a fist bump, and we begin walking back to the building. There are four large training fields around the center, and the other three are still occupied by several students and instructors, so we are careful to stick to our section until we reach the back entrance.