Chapter 36 Heaven
heaven
Lorien
Just like yesterday, I wake before the alarm to find myself enveloped in the safety of Liam’s body, pinned by his arm, my sex squarely in his possessive hold.
My very sore sex that was deliciously abused last night. I push back into the warmth of his body, to feel his solid length and hear him groan. Worse for my heart, that groan is followed by a “Morning, Wifey,” and a kiss to my shoulder.
“How did you sleep?” I ask into the darkness.
“That’s the best I’ve slept in a long time.”
“I don’t think I moved after I hit the pillow,” I offer.
“You didn’t move, but you did talk.”
I stiffen. Oh no. No, no, no. “I don’t… talk in my sleep.”
He laughs, his chest bouncing me in my warm cocoon. “It’s most enlightening.”
I rotate in the circle of his arms to find his face, trying desperately to figure out if he’s lying. His hand resting on my lady bits is now squarely on my hip, warm and wide.
As I look at him, his knee, and the scratchy hair on it, parts my thighs, butterflying my top one and holding it wide.
He reaches between us taking his dick in hand and sliding the underside of it up and down my slit. His piercing hits my clit over and over.
“Does that feel good?”
I nod, the air thick in the room as I watch his eyes.
“Are you sore?”
I nod again, swallowing back the worry I feel.
“Want me to kiss it and make it better? Or want me to destroy that pussy so you feel me between your legs all weekend?”
The underside of his dick is distracting me in a wonderful way, so I simply nod again, hoping that is enough.
“Need your words, baby.”
Reaching up, I scrape my fingers through his beard and curl them to tug him to me. “I want to feel you, William. All weekend long.”
He growls and rolls me onto my belly, lifting my hips.
“That’s two. You just growled. Five to two. In fact, if we’re counting per instance, you might be in the lead.”
He moves between my legs and spreads my knees farther apart than they’re used to going. If I’m here too long, I’ll be sore all weekend from this and not the sex.
To my total surprise, he drops a kiss at the small of my back before moving to kiss between my shoulder blades and the back of my neck.
All the while he plays between my legs. He’s at my ear, his breath tickling me as his beard does the same.
“I always planned to break the no sex rule, Lorien. Always. Even when I tried to resist you, I knew.”
He bites my earlobe and slams home. My groan fills the room as does the slapping of his body against my own.
“I put it in your door code.” He’s still in my ear, curled around me. “I knew you’d tempt me. I knew I’d fall.”
He ruts into me like he can’t get close enough. I know the feeling because I’m pushing myself back into him to get closer as well.
“But, Wifey, you had sex with me, too. Don’t forget.”
I growl.
“Oh, that’s six.” He pulls out, using his cock to flick my clit.
“Not fair.” I push up onto all fours only to have him place a wide hot palm between my shoulder blades, pushing me back into the bed.
As he curls around me, hovering on the edge of where I need him, cold air blows across my back and a quiet slide of something I should recognize, but can’t place. I rock, seeking his heat.
“I need you inside me.” It’s the most vulnerable thing I’ve ever said to him, and before I can regret it, he slams home, pushing me up the bed.
“Love you greedy, baby.”
Those words would do something to me if it wasn’t for the humming that jolts me from my worries and the buzzing against my clit that would have me mortified, if I weren’t so dang desperate to come.
He has my vibrator.
The building is brutal. It’s coming hard and fast, and I can’t get away, can’t shimmy away from the vibration or the pounding of his cock. I take and take until the spot deep inside me that’s been wound too tight snaps as does the bundle of nerves where my vibrator sits.
It verges on pain, the pleasure that can’t stop, won’t stop, and my knees collapse, unable to hold me up. I fall over the cliff, into sweet, sweet oblivion.
Somewhere in the darkness, Liam chants words I cannot make out, driving deep, surely feeling what’s happening inside of me all around him.
I come to with him atop me, his chest stuck to my back with slick sweat.
He’s breathing deeply, his breath tickling my ear as he bites my earlobe again. “Did I do my job?”
“Huh?” What is he talking about?
“Did I guarantee you feel me inside you until Monday? Well, unless I can’t help myself tonight or tomorrow or…”
“Well…” Apparently, I’m monosyllabic.
“We need to start waking up earlier, so I can have you every morning.” He glides slowly in and out, that piercing hitting places I never knew were sensitive. “I could live here.” He shoves in deep even if he’s not as hard as he was before.
“It’s just like yours, though not as updated.”
Leaning close to my ear, whispering words that will never leave me even if I live for a thousand years, he corrects me. “Inside your body, Lorien, I found heaven.”
Liam
I pull out, hating leaving the perfection of her pussy, and watch like a caveman as my cum tries to escape her body.
In another life, I would’ve panicked.
With another woman, I’d have taken drastic measures.
But Lorien is responsible to a tee…
… and I trust her.
I roll to my ass on the edge of the bed and drop my face into my hands with the realization. This woman has chiseled under my skin and become someone I trust… someone I value. This was supposed to be an arrangement and it’s become… more.
“Nutter Butters. My body is putty. I— Liam? Are you okay?”
What do I say? It’s fine? No. No big deal? Also no.
My cum is inside you, and I like it there and I’m not okay with that doesn’t have a good morning ring to it.
Lorien’s voice is small and it shakes when she asks, “Do you regret… being… with me?”
If my eyes weren’t already closed, they would at that. No. No, I don’t. And yes, you ruined me, and I’m trying to figure out how to recover. Both are half-truths.
“I—” she starts.
I don’t want her comfort or her soft touches or her feisty spirit to rise up. I want my Harley and the wind and a long ass ride on winding roads that requires one hundred percent of my focus. I don’t want that, I need it. I need it like my lungs need oxygen.
How the hell do I survive a confining flight and a family weekend where no one knows me, everyone is white bread, and I’m supposed to be on my best behavior?
They’re khakis; I’m cargos. They’re probably boat shoes or whatever those things are that everyone wears.
I’m motorcycle boots. They’re manicures, and I’m the man whose first tattoo was a snake twined from wrist to thumb because I would never be under my father’s again.
I’d served my time. The Anderson family probably doesn’t even know people can be like Seamus Murphy.
The covers rustle and Lorien moves from the bed. The smell of her, the smell of us, permeates the room. It’s in the air…
… and under my skin.
But that’s not on her. I mean, technically, it is. It’s all over her, but it’s not her fault. So I head to the bathroom, to find her under the running shower. She turns her back to me when I enter, busying herself with something in the corner.
I have nothing to strip off, and I step into the shower, pushing my head under the spray, and reaching over her for the shampoo. I run a hand over my head, but there’s so little there that I focus mostly on my beard, eventually taking the rest down my body.
Lorien works efficiently and has rinsed off, sliding around me with no eye contact, trying to escape. It’s not like my shower where there’s more space. Her tub is generous, but not that generous.
Trailing a hand down her arm, I stop at her wrist and turn her to face me. The spray hits the back of my neck and spits around me to splatter her in the face. I turn us, so she isn’t in the crossfire.
“I do not regret being with you. I do regret—”
She stiffens, and I rub my thumb over her pulse on the inside of her wrist.
“I regret you thinking I ever could.” I lean in, press my lips to hers in a peck and pull back. “I’m sorry.”
“I thought…” she drops her eyes.
“Dr. Anderson’s never been wrong before?”
She shrugs. “Not often.”
That puts a smile on my face. “I’ve been duly warned.”
“Are you…” She looks away, biting the inside of her cheek. “Are you really coming to Peoria?”
“Do you want me to?” Shame on me. I already know the answer, but I want to see her outgrow the expectations people placed on her. She should be free to live how she wants, not how she should.
“Yes. And no.”
“Tell me about the yes.”
“I feel safe with you. Protected. I’d like you to know where I came from. And I don’t mean Illinois.”
“And the no?”
“We said dissolve without”—she averts her eyes—“complications. Me bringing you home to my family is complicated.” She reaches up, not thinking as far as I can tell, and traces the grim reaper along my ribs.
“Because of my ink?”
She shakes her head, outlining the sickle at my arm pit.
“Because they would know it means something.”