Disclaimer: this story is NOT part of the official SOS storyline. It's just fan fiction! Enjoy 😊

Author: Meethi (@_meethi_)

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"Why are we here?"

The place is engulfed in darkness and seems to be following a pattern of rhythmic quivering. The air is tainted in the essence of alcohol and sweat, something he hasn't felt in years. His deep brown orbs are desperately finding something, or rather someone, in the presence of meagre light when they stop their search.

She's sitting on the barstool, her black dress hugging her frame leaving her long tan legs bare for his eyes to feed on. Stretches and spans of smooth skin for him to lick and press kisses against.

Her brown locks cascading and waving on her shoulders, brushing against her sinfully denuded back while her full plump lips mould into a hearty guffaw. He stands there ignoring the continuous nudge against him, taking his sweet time to take and absorb her form in.

The metal chain dangles around her neck as she pushes the few untucked strands of her hair behind and he doesn't fail to notice the slight incoordination between her limbs.

The cool silvery charm, the pineapple, lays on the tiny dip of her sweet cleavage and he suddenly wants her beneath him, writhing and moaning as he fucks her bare, and naked with just two pieces of jewellery on her.

"You can't be serious," Jack's exasperated words are muffled by the loud resonating tunes in the cramped club. Kayden slyly points towards the secluded corner where Sana escapes, possibly searching for the restroom. Jack notices her and turns to face his best friend who had fucking chickened out of his bachelor party.

"You are one whipped bastard." He derides but still excuses himself as he takes off behind, Sana. Kayden had felt the heavy sexual tension clouding between those two when Layla had called them for dinner at their place some weeks ago, something so profuse and exuberant that certainly spilt their history.

He is then sauntering towards the bar area, fluttering over headlights painting Layla in their colour.

First, she is the red of their love, then blue of his thirst, and then the aureate of his passion.

The silver strips of LED running in the edges of the cool glass slab placed on the counter highlights her plush skin. She seems lost in the thread of her musings and sips her liquor unhurriedly when Kayden reaches to stand behind her frame. Bending slightly so that his mouth aligns with the creamy column that connects her ear and neck.

"How drunk are you, Layla?" His musky cologne wraps them, as his devious hand curls around her stomach. The place has an air conditioner blasting cold gushes but her skin is sweltering. Small nips and nibbles on her neck before he turns her around to face him.

Her eyes are ruinous brown as she stares at him with a bemused smirk dancing on her maroon stained lips. Her breaths are rugged and in a quickened manner, as she gnaws viciously on her lower lip. She slowly, wickedly uncrosses her legs and the dress rises a little, revealing her thighs for his sight. His gaze extols her movement, and then she is standing up. Too close.

Her hands on his chest while she balances herself on the 3-inch heel, she had worn for the night. A sober Layla would have taken this situation to her benefit, thrown Kayden in the scrutinising spot and questioned his presence in the club when he should have been with Jack. But, a drunk Layla, as explained, was a brat.

Alcohol made her horny and well now, he was there to quench her desires.

The circlet around her finger gleams in the semi-darkened area as she continues moving her hands, from his chest to stomach, teasing a little lower but then finally settling them around his neck.

He's entertained by his fiancée while she is confused about whether she should work on stabilising her stance or fondle him. Pulling her close with a sudden tug, he makes it easy for her to stand on toes and whisper her words in his ear, for only him to hear.

"Not enough to grope you." Her voice, tipsy.

She rests her head on his chest as the faint flashes of their last club rendezvous appear before her closed eyelids. The last time they were here, she was still trying to make him lose his sanity and tempt him to give in.

Which had clearly failed.

"Layla.." Something throbs inside of her and she is thrumming in need. A single word had managed to melt her in the puddle of yearning. She hates how alcohol makes her, but she loves the feeling of him buried inside her, deep and hard.

"As delectable as you are looking right now, and as fucking ravenous as I am, we should head home. You are clearly hammered." He's guiding her out, helping her with a strong grip on her waist.

The air inside was sweaty and clammy, the place was smothering while outside was better. Natural and soothing.

He unlocks his car and keeps the passenger door open for her. Swiftly picking her up, he adjusts her on the seat. Her eyes are drooping and flittering, as he straps her seat belt when a giggle leaves her mouth.

He doesn't question her but looks at her intently, his orbs pouring into hers waiting for a response a reason when she slurs, "I remembered how this—" she is pointing at herself and then at him, "Went, last time, with my legs spread wide and my fingers—" Ooh.

And he shuns her down by taking her mouth into his, it's carnal and hungry. Wild and dominating. Even drunk she knows how to push his buttons, to push him near the cliff-end where the only source of survival is her, his Layla.

His fingers caress and grasp her cheek, the other hand tightening his hold around her neck, choking and ravishing her. Tongues fighting, lips sucking and souls dousing.

It's soon but he is pulling back and a soft whimper of dismay leaves her mouth. She is aching for him, fucking pulsating for his touch.

"I love you," it's a soft, mellow whisper that manages to melt and fuse with the thin yet murky air circling and caging them.

"I love you." She's drowsy and sloppy with her words but manages to reciprocate back with a toothy smile. He drops a delicate peck on her forehead, as she snuggles back in the soft leather seat.

"Get some sleep, Layla." His words are a lullaby, her eyes drift close and she inundates herself into sleep. Kayden closes the door carefully and walks around to his seat.

Driving back to their home, he feels the warmth and a spread of contentment wash over his heart when he watches her snore softly in slumber.

Yes, the heart. An organ he had clearly defied and clearly refused to believe that he did possess it. Years later, here he is, smiling and whipped over this lady.

Whom he can't wait to marry...

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A/N: Hi! I know this wasn't a very great attempt but Aarushicullengranger , and the other bonus chapters, motivated & tempted me to write a fan fiction. I hope you all like it, and if not, I am open to all sorts of constructive criticism. <3

T/N: A fav scene: the car 😉