Winning Layla (#2)

Chapter 14

"Are you serious?" I ask her.

She nods shakily, letting a few tears trickle out of her eyes. Watching those tears, I feel like a major asshole and I hope I haven't messed this up.

I walk towards her quickly, needing to feel her in my arms. I clutch her in my arms and bury my nose in her hair, smelling the sweetness of her shampoo.

"Nash."

I pull back to look at her. "Yeah, babe?"

"I didn't ruin anything, did I?" She asks.

I snort a laugh. "No, I did. I wanted this to be perfect, too much."

She looks away, hurt.

Shit.

"Baby, I didn't mean it that way."

"I know. I just can't help but feel like I ruined your chance. This is all my fault," she whispers. I grasp the back of her neck and turn her head towards me, making her look me in the eyes.

"Hey, look at me. You didn't ruin it. I'm happy with the result. Nothing you could say or do would make me love you any less than I already do. You're perfect to me and for me. And I mean, at least I got you to say yes."

And to show her how serious I am, I pull the small box from my pocket before dropping to one knee. I hear her gasp when she realizes what I'm doing.

"Layla Rose Edwards, will you do me the favor and the honor of becoming my wife?"

"Yes," she says instantly. I stand up and slip the ring on her finger.

As soon as it's on, I back her up against the nearest wall, my lips crashing down onto hers. Layla becomes frantic to get my pants undone as I tear her panties down her smooth legs.

I lift her up by her ass and wrap her legs around my waist, bunching her dress up. When my pants are passed my hips, I waste no time in getting inside her. My thrusts are hurried and fulfilling as Layla's nails dig into my shoulders, causing a euphoric feeling.

"Nash. I love you," Layla moans when she reaches her peak.

"f**k, baby. I know you do." Her muscles clenching and contracting around me is enough to shoot me to the stars.

When I come to, Layla's hands are running along my hair at the back of my head where it is buried in her neck. We're both breathing heavily and are sticky with sweat.

I hear Layla giggle and I lift my head. "What is it?" I ask her.

"I've missed this," she replies.

"Me too, baby," I admit, smoothing a thumb over her brow.

The next thing I know, Layla has ripped my shirt down the middle, making buttons fly in all directions. I laugh at her eagerness and rip her dress, baring her t**s to me. After we're both rid of our clothing, I carry her to the bed. I lay her down before settling on top of her.

Around three a.m., we both collapse on the bed, exhausted and sweating like a cold drink on a hot day. I pull Layla to me as she drifts to sleep.

As I stare at her sleeping form, I know this is where I'm supposed to be. I know that without her in my arms I would be empty. And I thank whoever gave her to me, because without them, I wouldn't have found happiness.

I wouldn't have love.