EDWARD’S POV
Of all the things I expect to come out of Layla Foster’s mouth tonight, asking me to go down on her is definitely not one of them.
She looks wrecked beneath me anyway.
Her cheeks are flushed deep pink, lips swollen from kissing and her chest rises unevenly beneath that bra that’s barely cupping her breasts. Her fingers twist tightly into the sheets like she needs something to ground herself while staring up at me with those glossy eyes.
Fuck.
The craziest part is that if this was any other girl, I probably would’ve said no immediately. Not because I think there’s anything wrong with it. I just…don’t do it. Never really cared enough to.
But Layla looks at me as if this is something she’s secretly fantasized about. Something she wants badly enough to ask for even while loo
