Chapter 25
TWENTY-FIVE
The door barely clicked shut behind us before his mouth was on mine—hot, hungry, and completely different from the sweet kiss he’d given me on the porch. This kiss was a promise. His hands gripped my waist, backing me into the hallway wall, and the full length of his body pressed against mine.
“I’ve been thinking about everything you said at the river,” he murmured against my lips, his hands sliding down to grip my hips. “Remember all those things you told me you wanted? The things I promised I’d do to you before today was over?”
My breath caught. “I remember.”
“Good.” He nipped my lower lip, then pulled back just enough to look at me. His eyes were a dark forest green now, and filled with heat and a tenderness underneath that made my chest ache. “Because I plan on delivering on that promise. Upstairs. Now.”
He didn’t wait for a response. He lifted me up and I instantly wrapped my legs around him, letting him carry me as he walked up the stairs and I kissed his neck and collarbone, eager for more despite all the times he’d already made me come today.
My room was the same as I’d left it before college—lavender walls I’d painted when I was fourteen, a bookshelf overflowing with some of my favorite dog-eared novels, and another set of fairy lights strung above the headboard.
Liam’s gaze swept through the space. He’d seen my room hundreds of times, but never when he was about to ravage me in it.
I was pretty sure this was already the longest amount of time he’d ever spent in my room and it had only been a minute.
His lips met mine again in another hungry kiss as he used his foot to kick the door shut.
Then he was moving before gently placing me on the bed, keeping his body over mine as he kissed me deeper before pulling back.
All traces of amusement from earlier were gone.
In their place was something else. Desire and longing swirled together with a hint of maybe even fear.
But that couldn’t be right because I was fairly certain Liam wasn’t afraid of anything.
He kept me caged between his arms as he dipped down and kissed me again—deep and slow this time, his tongue sliding against mine and making my core clench with the need for him to be inside me again.
His lips left mine and trailed down my jaw, my neck, pausing at my collarbone. He dropped his forehead there like he needed a moment to collect himself.
“Liam?”
He shook his head, not breaking contact with where it rested. “You don’t even know…”
My brows furrowed. “Know what?”
He looked up at me. “What you’re doing to me.”
“What am I doing?”
His lips lifted in a tender smile. “Just being yourself, Sunshine. Your sexy-as-fuck, sweet-as-hell self and it’s got me all kinds of fucked-up.
Can hardly think straight,” he whispered before he sealed his lips over mine again, kissing away any comments I could’ve made.
That kiss was like the strike of a match, and just as quickly he was peeling my dress off, leaving me bare beneath him.
His gaze dragged over me with the kind of reverence that made the backs of my eyes sting. “God, Ava. Every time.” He shook his head like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “Every time I think I’m prepared, and every time you knock the wind out of me.”
And yet, I was the one who felt completely breathless right now.
He kissed down my chest, pausing at each breast to draw a nipple into his mouth—sucking hard enough to make me cry out, and then soothing the sting with his tongue before moving to the other one and doing it all over again.
I arched into him, my fingers threading through his hair, my hips already rolling against nothing—searching for friction he wasn’t giving me yet.
“Liam—”
“I’ve got you.” He kissed lower, down my stomach, his lips tracing the curve of my waist, and then lower still. His hands gripped my thighs and spread them apart, and I felt the heat of his breath against my bare, swollen flesh before his mouth made contact.
The first stroke of his tongue dragged a sound from me that I didn’t recognize. He took his time with it, too. Broad and flat from my entrance to my clit, tasting every inch of me. Like he was savoring me. Like he had nowhere else to be for the rest of his life.
“You taste so fucking good,” he groaned against me, and the vibration traveled through my entire body, leaving goose bumps in its wake. “I could do this for hours.”
He settled in like he meant it. His tongue worked me in long, languid strokes, alternating between circling my clit with the tip and pushing inside me—actually fucking me with his tongue, his nose pressing against my clit every time he drove deeper.
There was no rush, no race toward the finish line.
He explored me like he was mapping new territory—finding what made me gasp, what made me shake, what made me grab fistfuls of the sheets and hold on.
Or what made me grab his hair and rock my pussy against his face, practically begging for him to take me over the edge of release.
Liam ate me like I was his last meal—like the sounds I was making were feeding something in him that was starving.
Every whimper I let slip seemed to spur him on, his grip tightening on my thighs, his tongue moving with renewed purpose.
The wet, obscene sounds of his mouth on me filled the quiet room, and instead of embarrassment, I felt a rush of heat so intense my toes curled.
When he sealed his lips around my clit and sucked gently, my back bowed off the mattress.
“Oh my God—”
He hummed in approval, his hands tightening on my thighs to hold me open while he did it again. And again. His tongue flicked against the swollen bud, fast then slow, building me up and easing off until I was writhing beneath him, my hips trying to grind against his face despite his grip.
“Please,” I breathed. “Liam, please don’t stop.”
He didn’t. He pushed two fingers inside me while his tongue continued its assault on my clit—curling them against that spot deep inside me that made my vision go white.
I could feel myself clenching around his fingers, could feel how wet I was by the slick sounds of him pumping into me.
My thighs clamped around his head, my hands fisted in his hair, and I came with his name on my lips—a wave of pleasure so intense my entire body seized, my inner walls pulsing around his fingers as I shook apart.
He didn’t pull away. He gentled his mouth, easing me through the aftershocks with soft, barely there licks, and then started building me up again before I’d fully come down.
This time he used just his tongue—no fingers, no urgency—lapping at me slow and steady, tracing circles around my oversensitive clit until the second orgasm crested like a tide, rolling through me in waves that left me boneless and gasping, my thighs trembling against his stubbled jaw.
When he finally lifted his head, his chin was slick and his eyes were blazing.
“Can you think straight?” he asked, his voice ragged.
“I can’t think at all.”
His grin was wicked and satisfied as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Good.”
I reached for him, pulling him up my body, tasting myself on his lips when I kissed him. I could feel him straining against his shorts, impossibly hard, and I wanted him inside me with a desperation that bordered on irrational.
“Condom,” I managed between kisses.
He pulled one from his wallet and stripped off his shorts and boxer briefs in record time.
No matter how many times I saw him naked, the sight always hit me like a sucker punch.
All that toned, athletic muscle, the V-cut of his hips, his cock thick and flushed and straining toward his stomach.
He tore the foil open and rolled the condom on, and when his gaze met mine, the intensity in it made my heart stutter.
“Time to go for a ride, Sunshine.” He lay down on his back and my heart hammered as I climbed into his lap, straddling his thighs.
I wrapped my hand around him—God, he was thick—and felt him pulse against my palm as I positioned him at my entrance, rubbing the head through my slick folds, and watched his jaw go tight with the effort of holding still.
“Stop teasing,” he gritted out, his fingers digging into my thighs. “I’ve been hard for you all day, and I need to feel you before I lose my ever-loving mind.”
I sank down slowly, taking him inch by agonizing inch, feeling every ridge of him stretching me open. The burn was exquisite—that perfect edge between too much and not enough that made my eyes roll back and a moan slip past my lips.
His head fell back against the pillow, a guttural groan rumbling from his chest. “Fuck. Fuck, yes. You feel so fucking good.”
I paused when I was fully seated in his lap with him buried as deep as he could go.
My inner walls clenched around him involuntarily, and he hissed through his teeth.
This was what I’d asked for—being on top so I could see his face.
And his face was everything. His jaw was clenched, a muscle twitching in his cheek, his eyes half-lidded and fixed on me with adoration and need.
I filed the image away somewhere safe in my memory—Liam beneath me, completely undone, looking at me like I was the most incredible thing he’d ever seen. Whatever happened after this summer, whatever ending we were barreling toward, no one could take this from me. This was mine.
“You take my cock so well, Sunshine,” he breathed, his hands settling on my hips—not guiding, just holding. “So fucking sexy like this.”