Chapter 17
Britain
When I come downstairs from doing a quick unpacking, just toiletries and basic clothing, Liam is in the great room. He has a rocks glass in hand and it looks like another glass prepped for me on the coffee table. He smiles at me as I approach, setting his glass down beside mine.
“Hi,” I say as I round the large, slipcovered sofa.
“Come here,” he says, in his low commanding voice, the one that gives me chills. He pats the top of his leg, making me laugh a little and sending heat down my core. I obey, taking a seat on his leg and wrapping one arm around his neck to hold me up. He gives me a kiss at my temple, and whispers “I’m so glad you came, Bambi.” I think it’s a play on words, from the song we danced to, but I also think he’s glad I came here, with him.
“Me, too,” I whisper back.
“What do you want to do tonight?”
“Well, what are my options?”
“We could watch a movie, or we could talk, or build a fire outside, or play a game?”
“Hmm,” I pretend to ponder, tapping a finger to my chin, “play a game, please?”
“K, get up,” he says as he pats my leg. I scooch over, off his leg and he heads to the built-in cabinet by the fireplace. He opens it, revealing games stacked on games.
I laugh, “Oh, you meant like a real game, a board game?”
He’s dead serious, “Yeah? What’s wrong with that?”
“Absolutely nothing, just surprised. There’s only two games I won’t play.”
“Names and reasons why, go.”
“Okay, first, chess because I don’t know how to play, and second, twister, because I’m still not wearing panties.”
He laughs. “Damn, there goes choice one and two.” He shoots me a wink. I get up off the couch to look at his selection. It’s extensive and, thanks to the girls, I’ve played most of them.
“Which is your favorite of the options left?” I ask. I forget that I don’t really know him that well. When we’re together, it feels so natural, easy, that I forget we haven’t been together for years.
“Hmmm,” he’s thinking it over. “Probably Sequence or Sorry.”
Too easy, love Sequence. “Sequence then?”
“You got it,” he pulls out the game from its spot and I notice they’re organized alphabetically. I giggle a bit. His life is so orderly, so perfect looking. His house is immaculate, it barely looks lived in.
Even though my house in Virginia is only four years old, it looks downtrodden most days. It’s gotten better since the girls left for school, but I know as soon as they’re home, it will go right back to looking like it was hit by a cyclone.
He moves some of his coffee table books to below the table, making an area for us to play. I pick a spot on the floor, genuinely excited for this.
“Would you care to make this interesting?” He asks as he starts opening the box.
“I’m interested, but know if you’re wanting to play strip Sequence, I’m only wearing one article of clothing, and no under garments of any kind.”
His eyes go wide, and he freezes for a quick moment. “Fuck, Bambi, you can’t tell me stuff like that.” He pauses, “How about truth or dare? If you win, you get to ask a truth or demand a dare.”
“Deal.” We smile at each other, this should be interesting.
An hour later, Liam is now wearing lipstick, has shed all his clothing except his briefs, and I’ve learned his greatest fear — mice — and his favorite movie series.
“Really, the Harry Potter series?” His reply is one word, but says everything I need to know. “Always.” I burst out laughing, he truly is a fan.
“Okay, Bambi, it’s not fun when you’re the only one who wins.”
“I feel like you’re trying to lose on purpose. I mean, no one is that bad.”
I tease him, trying to provoke him and I think it’s working when he says, “Go upstairs,” followed by a single nod of his head. I can’t stop the blush and stupid smile that spreads across my face. I bite my lip and murmur, “yes, sir,” under my breath, heading straight to the primary suite.
I thought he was going to follow me, but I guess not, so I head towards the bathroom to brush my teeth. It’s such an oddly domestic thing to be doing in his house, it makes me pause a moment. When I do, Liam is at my back.
“Where do you think you’re going?” His voice is deathly low, and he bites my neck. He releases me and follows it with a gentle kiss.
“No where?” Is my weak answer. He grabs my hand and leads me back towards the bed. I notice he’s attempted to remove the lipstick, I’ll help him with that later, and a little giggle passes my mouth.
“Is there something funny, Bambi?”
“No, not at all.” He looks fucking amazing standing in front of me. His tight black briefs reveal that we’re feeling the same thing right now. His torso and arms are cut, and I actually lick my lips at the sight of him.
“That’s right, there’s nothing funny about your punishment.” I’m instantly wet. He pushes me towards the bed, then grips my hair in his hand, pulling my head to where he can kiss me. And when he does, it’s all fire and all consuming. The passion behind his kiss feels like drowning, I can’t breathe, but I want more. I want him to consume me. My fingers dig into him, trying to stake some claim.
He roughly grabs my breast, and I moan from his rough grip. It’s making my sex pulse with longing for him, only for him. “Liam,” scrapes out of my throat lightly.
“Yes, Bambi?” he says as he continues massaging my breast, adding in a grind of his hard erection along my hip.
“Please,” I plead with him. I reach for his thick erection, but he pulls his hips away from me so I can’t touch him.
“Please what, Bambi?” His grip on my hair tightens, and he grinds against me again.
“Please, I need you inside me.” He instantly releases me, turning me to face the bed, my back to his chest. He pushes me gently towards the bed as he says, “bend over, sweetheart.” I obey without thought, my walls are clenching down on nothing, my longing for his cock is verging on unhealthy. I hold myself up on my elbows when I hear the rip of a wrapper, and a moment later he pushes my dress up over my ass and thrusts into me roughly.
He’s holding my hips in his hands as he slams into me from behind. I cry out from the intrusion and shock, but I fucking love it. I know I’m probably dripping down my thighs at this point. “Liam,” I cry out for him. I love the way he throbs in me whenever his name rolls off my lips.
“Bambi, where the fuck do you get off being so fucking perfect, huh?” he pauses to thrust into me. “Your perfect, tight, fucking pussy. Your mouth, your body, your ass. I couldn’t dream you up better if I tried for the rest of my life.” He slams into me again, still holding one hip, the other holding my shoulder. I cry out again. My clit is throbbing, begging for attention, but I wouldn’t dare try to touch myself right now. This is my punishment, and only he gets to say when and if I come.
“And you withheld it from me, you fucking tortured me.” He releases his hand from my shoulder and reaches down, drawing the dress away from my breasts, exposing me. He pinches one of my nipples hard causing me to throw my head and arch my back.
I start begging, “Liam, please, please.”
“I should have fucked you in the kitchen like I was dying to, filled you up so you could never forget me no matter how hard you tried.”
“I’d never forget you, babe. Please.”
“Don’t call me that right now. You can call me Sir or Daddy, your choice.” Holy shit, how does he know my kinks so innately? I clench on his cock as he pushes into me.
His laugh is low and he says, “Oh Bambi, you were fucking made for me, weren’t you?”
I nod my head, my clit and sex crying for release.
“I need to hear it, Bambi.”
“I was made for you, Daddy. Just for you, only you.” I love the way it sounds coming out of my mouth, but I know he loves it more.
He leans over me, biting my shoulder, and says, “Don’t you ever fucking leave me.”
He stands back up, continuing his thrusts, but reaches a hand around to my front, massaging my clit. I grin, knowing I earned my pleasure. The second he touches me, I climax instantly. I scream out his name and I hear him call out to me as he erupts, slamming my ass back to him one more time, holding me against him as he empties himself completely. He’s still massaging my clit, and it sends me into another orgasm right on the tail of the last one. “Liam,” I whisper out his name in ecstasy as my second wave continues milking him. My pulses finally subside a minute later and he relaxes his clutch on me.
He slaps my ass gently, releasing my hip from his grasp. He returns my breasts into the dress, then pinches me at the hips as he removes his cock from my body. He lets my dress fall back down and I turn to look back at him. His face says it all, completely satisfied, just like me. That may have been the best sex of my entire life. He just gets me. I give him a knowing smile, the same one that's plastered on his face, and he just chuckles lightly before helping me up into a standing position.
“You’re going to be the death of me, Britain,” he says as he pulls me into him for a kiss. When he releases me, I feel it. It’s too soon, you stupid girl, I tell myself. Slow the fuck down. But my body isn’t listening to my head. How could it? When all I feel is rightness and warmth and ecstasy when I’m with him.
Liam
I thought the first time I had sex with Britain might have been the best sex of my life. I’ve already made a liar of myself. Last night was the best sex of my life. I never wanted it to end, but when she called me Daddy and said, ‘Just for you, only you,’ I couldn’t hold out any longer. She somehow knows exactly what to say, what to do, and when to do it, and it drives me mad. I’ve never been with anybody who just gets what I want the way she does, and I think it’s because she wants the same thing, too.
I woke up this morning pinching myself, thinking this can’t be real. There’s no way this is real. What’s the catch? I mean, I know the catch, but I can’t stop. I couldn’t stop if I tried. Our first night together in the house was better than I could have hoped for. Besides finding out a psycho broke into the apartment, it was practically perfect.
My girl is sprawled out beside me, her bare cheek gently brushing against my thigh because she sleeps naked. Did I mention perfect? I know realistically she’s not perfect, nobody is, but perfect for me? Probably. All signs point to yes. Besides getting to see all of her when she sleeps, the best part is how easy it is to wake up and slide into her, which is exactly what I plan to do. If last night I was rough and domineering, this morning I’ll be slow. I’ll worship her this time.
I slip a condom on and roll over on top of Britain. She’s a bit groggy, but it’s already 7:00 A.M. I start kissing her chest until she comes to, and the minute she does, I’ll be inside her.
“Good morning,” she says to me sweetly.
“How’d you sleep?” I ask as I nudge her leg with my knee to make room for me. She opens right up, just like I knew she would.
She smiles and says, “Surprisingly well. Someone thoroughly fucked me right to sleep last night.” It’s true, she basically brushed her teeth, washed her face, stripped and was in bed asleep with barely a kiss goodnight. It was the same for me. I guess when you’re perfectly sated, sleep comes easy. Who knew?
“Did they? I need names,” I deadpan, as I rub my cock between her slick folds. She warms right up to me, moving her hips with mine and smiling, eyes closed as she extends her arms for a stretch. I can’t get over how toned she is when I can see all of her. If she didn’t have stretch marks, I’d never know she had kids just by looking at her.
I slide into her right now, slowly this time. There’s a chance she's sore from last night, and I have no intention of making it worse. She responds instantly to me, lifting her hips to meet me, like we’ve woken up this way hundreds of times.
“Are you sore from last night?” I ask as I slowly pull out and thrust gently back in.
“Just a little bit, but not much,” she says as she reaches around, running her hands up and down my back, the sensation causing goosebumps. I have to ask this question, I want to make sure I didn’t misinterpret anything.
“Was last night okay…for you?”
Her eyes go a bit wide and she says, “Are you kidding me? It was, um, amazing.” She paused for a moment, and I need to know why.
“Why’d you just hesitate then?” I’m still moving in and out of her like all our morning conversations are held with my dick inside her.
She blushes. “I don’t want this to go to your head or anything, but that was probably the best sex I’ve ever had.” Fuck, it wasn’t just me then. I smile and my dick gets even harder, which I didn’t think was possible, but it is.
“Same, baby.” I need to know this, too, “And calling me that name, is that okay for you?” I know some women don’t like it, so I knew it was a bit of a gamble last night, but she seemed to fucking eat it up, even like it.
She bites her lip and nods. “More than okay.”
“That’s your kink, isn’t it, baby?” I chuckle a bit, and she nods again.
“Now that you know mine, what’s yours?” She demands.
“You calling me Daddy.” She bites her lip again, and I pick up the pace of my thrusts. She’s just like I thought, perfect for me. “Baby, I wanna see you touch yourself, please?” I want her to come, I’m already stupid close. She nods and I lean back, settling on my heels with my knees bent, so I have a perfect view of her while never letting my cock leave her body.
She drops a hand between us and starts massaging her clit. I’m still thrusting into her, slowly, feeling every time she bares down on my cock. Her cheeks are pink, and her perfect tits are bouncing with our movements. This, I want to see this sight every morning for the rest of my life. Fuck.
She lets out little pants and a moan as she starts to come, squeezing me tight, so I pick up my pace and I’m seconds behind her. My vision blackens and my balls tighten as I empty myself. Savoring every pulse, hers and mine both. She removes her hand from between us and I drop to hover over her, placing my forehead on hers. I almost blurt out, I fucking love you, but I stop myself. Jesus, Liam. I’ve got to get it together.
Instead of embarrassing myself, I give her a peck on the mouth and slide out of her. Our routine, solidifying. As I walk to the ensuite, I know I probably have a stupid smile on my face, so I work to school it into something more normal since she’s right behind me. I wash up while she’s in the water closet, throwing on a pair of sweats. I grab one of my sweatshirts and lay it out for her by her sink, just in case she wants to throw something on right away. I know she has her own clothes, but seeing her in mine is another stupid fantasy I hope she’ll fulfill.
She walks to the sink, sees the sweatshirt and looks back at me. “Can I wear this?”
“Yeah, I wasn’t sure if you’d want to just throw something on. You definitely don’t have to, but it’s there if you want it.” She doesn’t even respond, just picks it up and puts it on. It's big on her, the bottom hits just below her ass cheeks. She pushes the sleeves up and starts washing her hands. I’m already half hard again. Her in my clothes, in my bathroom, our bathroom, after morning sex, it makes my chest tighten and my insides squeeze. If I had to wait almost 50 years to do this with her, I’d gladly do it again and again.