Chapter 25 #2
I lifted myself slowly, almost letting him slip free, then sank back down in one smooth roll of my hips.
The friction of him dragging against my sensitive walls sent pleasure spiraling through me and dragged a sound from him that I wanted to bottle and keep, like he was on the verge of losing his mind.
I found a rhythm—slow, rolling movements that let me control the angle, depth, and pace.
Every time I sank down, he hit that spot deep inside me that made stars burst behind my eyes.
I shifted my hips slightly, chasing the angle that felt best, and when I found it—God, when I found it—I couldn’t stop the whimper that tore from my throat.
“Fuck, look at you.” His voice was wrecked, his thumbs tracing circles on my hip bones.
“Look at you taking me like this. Riding my cock like you were made for it.” His gaze dropped to where our bodies were joined, watching himself disappear inside me with every roll of my hips.
“So fucking sexy. So wet I can feel you dripping down my balls.”
I braced my hands on his chest, feeling his heart pound beneath my palms, and picked up the pace. His hands slid up my sides and cupped my breasts, his thumbs rolling over my nipples before pinching them—just hard enough to make me gasp and clench around him.
“Liam…I’m close—”
“I know. I can feel you squeezing me.” He pulled me flush against him so my clit ground against his pelvis with every movement, and used his hips to take over thrusting inside me hard and fast, finding a pace that brought my orgasm to a fever pitch.
His mouth found my neck, and his teeth scraped over that spot that always undid me.
“Come for me, Sunshine. Want to feel this pretty pussy come all over my cock.”
I rode him harder, chasing the building pressure. His hips met mine, thrusting up as I came down, and the new depth changed everything. The orgasm hit me fast and hard—my entire body seizing, my inner walls clenching around him in rhythmic pulses that had him groaning against my throat.
“That’s it,” he groaned, holding me tight as I shook apart in his arms. “So fucking beautiful when you come for me.”
Before the aftershocks had even faded, he shifted. In one fluid motion, he lifted me off him, laid me face down on the mattress, and pulled my hips up until I was on my knees, ass in the air, face pressed into the pillow.
“Remember what else you asked for?” His hand smoothed down my spine, over the curve of my ass, and then lower—two fingers sliding through my soaking folds from behind, making me jerk.
“Yes.” My voice came out breathless, muffled by the pillow. I remembered all too clearly. I’d wanted him to take me from behind, pull my hair, and tell me I was his.
The thick head of his cock was notching against my entrance and he pushed inside me in one deep, devastating stroke that made me cry out.
This position allowed him to hit places inside me I’d never known existed.
I could feel every inch of him, stretching me, filling me so completely it bordered on overwhelming.
“Jesus,” he groaned, his hands gripping my hips, holding me still while he was buried to the hilt. “You take me so well. Like your body was made just for me.”
There was that hint of reverence in his tone again, like he wanted that more than anything in the world.
He pulled almost all the way out—slowly, so I felt the drag of him against every sensitive nerve ending—then slammed back in hard enough to make the headboard crack against the wall.
His hand gathered my hair, wrapping it around his fist, and pulled.
Not hard enough to hurt. Just enough to arch my back and expose my throat, changing the angle so he sank even deeper on the next thrust.
Oh fuck, it felt so good. Even better than I’d imagined. My core was already tightening again.
“You’re mine, Ava.” His voice was rough, raw, as he fucked me with long, hard strokes that I felt everywhere. “Say it.”
“I’m yours.”
“Again.” He pulled my hair tighter, his other hand gripping my hip as his thrusts picked up like he was truly trying to own me, body and soul.
“I’m yours, Liam.” The words came out broken, shattered by the pleasure tearing through me with every thrust.
“That’s right.” He bent over me, his chest hot and slick against my back, his mouth at my ear. “This pussy is mine. These sounds are mine. You—” Another devastating thrust that made stars cross my vision. “Are mine.”
Some distant part of my brain registered that he was giving me what I’d asked for—the hair pulling, the claiming, the dirty words.
But it didn’t feel like he was performing.
It felt like he was confessing. Like the words had been locked somewhere inside him and this was the only way he knew how to let them out.
His pace turned relentless—deep, punishing strokes that had me fisting the sheets and moaning into the pillow as he took my body to new heights it had never gone before.
The sound of his hips slamming against my ass was obscene, mixing with the wet, slick noises of him driving into me over and over.
His hand released my hair and snaked between my legs to find my clit, rubbing tight, fast circles that had me careening toward the edge.
“Come with me,” he said, his voice strained, his rhythm starting to fracture. “Ava—fuck—come with me.”
I shattered, and this time I screamed his name into the pillow—my orgasm ripping through me in violent, pulsing waves, my inner walls clamping down on him so hard he swore. Behind me, Liam buried himself to the hilt and went rigid, a guttural groan tearing from his chest.
“Ava.” My name came out like it was being ripped from somewhere deep inside him. “Ava, fuck—” His hips jerked against me, once, twice, three times, each thrust punctuated by a hoarse sound that made my core clench around him all over again as he spilled inside the condom.
We collapsed together, his weight warm and heavy on my back, both of us breathing like we’d sprinted a mile. After a moment, he rolled to the side, pulling me against his chest.
“You okay?” he murmured into my hair.
“So much better than okay.” I was so far past okay that the word didn’t cover it. My body was liquid, my mind was mush, and my heart was soaring.
He pressed a kiss to my temple and went to deal with the condom. When he came back, he climbed in beside me and pulled the covers over us both.
“Stay,” I whispered before I could stop myself.
His arm tightened around me. “Wasn’t planning on going anywhere.”
I pressed my face into his chest, breathing him in, and let myself have this—the warmth of him, the steady beat of his heart, the weight of his arm around my waist. These were the moments that would destroy me when this ended.
I fell asleep tucked against him, safer than I’d felt in years.
I woke to the feel of Liam thrusting his hard cock between my thighs, coating it in my slickness, like he couldn’t help himself.
The room was pitch dark, the fairy lights having been turned off at some point while I’d slept, and for a disoriented moment I didn’t know where I was.
Then Liam’s mouth pressed against the nape of my neck, his hard cock moving back and forth, but not inside just yet. A low groan escaped his throat.
“Liam?” My voice was thick with sleep, barely a whisper.
“Shh.” His hand slid between my thighs, fingers stroking through the wetness that had gathered even in sleep—my body’s Pavlovian response to his proximity—before rubbing soft circles over my clit. “I need to be inside you again, Sunshine.”
The words were guttural, almost pained, like he’d been lying beside me fighting this and had lost.
This was the fantasy I’d barely let myself think about, let alone say out loud. And here he was, already making it even better than I’d imagined.
“Yes,” I said, the word barely a whisper, but still carrying a hint of begging. I was already wetter just at the thought of it.
He pulled back long enough to pull on a condom and then his cock was pressing into my soaked center from behind, slow but insistent.
When he pushed fully inside, my mouth fell open in a silent gasp.
The stretch felt different like this—tighter, more intense, every nerve ending lit up from the hours of use and still desperate for more.