Chapter 15 #2
Just when he thought he had a handle on himself, she wrapped her lips around his engorged tip and sucked it gently.
Liam bit down on the inside of his cheek in an effort not to come right then and there.
She drew back, then suckled again, a little deeper this time.
She repeated the action, each time taking him deeper, until he could feel himself hitting the back of her throat and she was choking on him.
Frankie’s hand followed her mouth, sliding up and down, twisting at just the right moments, and every time he thought he’d found a plateau, she found a way to push him higher, causing his balls to tighten with release.
When she let him slip from her mouth, she dragged her lips along the side of his shaft, then pressed a kiss just below the crown.
She kissed him again, then again, worshipping every inch of him, and then she suddenly changed gears—her mouth was open, warm and wet and velvet, enveloping him deeply, and he nearly lost it right then, and he felt his cock vibrate.
Liam’s eyes fluttered shut. He heard the soft, humming sound as she worked him, and every sense he had was focused on the pleasure she was giving him.
His hands gripped the comforter behind him for dear life.
The mattress creaked as he shifted, trying to ground himself.
Frankie’s rhythm was relentless, and she didn’t let up—her mouth tight and perfect, her hand stroking in tandem, her vocal cords quivering, her nails digging just slightly into his thigh with every downward motion. He was throbbing, every nerve ending lit up, and something inside of him snapped.
Not being able to take it anymore, he reached down, grabbed her by the arms, and flipped her onto the mattress.
Once she was on her back, he pinned her arms above her head and climbed on top of her.
She was catching her breath as she looked up at him, her chest heaving, and her mouth curled in a smile, with her lips swollen, and her hair a wild halo around her face.
Her legs widened in invitation as he settled between them, his rock-hard erection pressing against her wet core.
He felt himself sliding along her lips as her hips rocked in need.
As he looked down at her, two words played over and over in his mind. “You’re mine.”
He hadn’t meant to say them out loud, but from the way her sex clenched against his shaft, he was glad he had.
Frankie was living out so many fantasies. She’d always wanted to know what Liam looked like naked. What he tasted like. What the weight of his body felt like on top of her. What it was like to be trapped beneath him.
Part of her was terrified this was a dream and someone was going to wake her up.
But from the way her clit was swelling as she rubbed it against his shaft, she knew it wasn’t.
Even dreams didn’t feel this good. She wouldn’t be this close to coming if this was a dream.
She was a little bit embarrassed. The last time they were together, she’d come with her clothes on, at least this time, they were both naked. That was progress.
It wasn’t her fault she was this close to the edge.
Having Liam in her mouth had brought her to the brink, then him throwing her on the bed, pinning her hands above her head, and feeling his very large, hard, throbbing length rubbing against her sex was sensory overload.
And then hearing him saying she was his, claiming her, what was a girl to do but come?
“Fuck, you feel good,” she whimpered as her body built closer and closer to her release.
She bit down on her lip and ground even harder. Each time she rolled her hips, sliding her feminine folds up his steel rod at just the right angle to hit her pleasure spot, lighting up the knot of nerves at the top of her slit. She repeated the motion over and over, shamelessly seeking her climax.
Liam’s head moved down, pausing just long enough for Frankie to anticipate the sensation of his kiss before his breath fanned at the base of her neck.
His tongue flicked at the hollow spot above her collarbone, then licked a wet trail down her chest, luxuriating in the dips and curves as if he had all the time in the world.
She arched into him, her nipples flushed and tight with need.
He ignored them, instead circling the undersides with his tongue, teasing her until she made a noise that was part sigh and part frustration.
Only then did he close his mouth over one pebbled peak, sucking gently at first, then increasing the pressure.
The suction was just shy of pain, in perfect counterpoint to the way he rolled the other bud between his thumb and forefinger with the hand not holding her arms captive.
Frankie’s world went white at the edges, her vision narrowing to the hot, wet pressure of his mouth and the possessive grip of his hands on her wrists, which stayed held in place above her head.
When he grazed her nipple with his teeth, she gasped so loudly the sound ricocheted off the walls of the bedroom.
He must have liked her response because he did again, harder, this time enough to make her jerk, and she felt her whole body light up like it was made of nothing but exposed nerve endings and the desire to crash over the edge.
No matter how much she pulled, Liam refused to let go of her wrists, the intensity in his hold matching her struggle like a finger trap as she thrashed beneath him.
She felt herself get wetter as his grip tightened around her wrists, her arousal coating his shaft sliding along her lips.
Her mind and body were stimulated by the erotic tug-of-war between wanting to break free and complete surrender.
The heat of Liam’s palm slid down her side, tracking the lines of her ribs, passing over the flare of her hip, and settling on her thigh.
His fingertips dug into her flesh as he lifted her leg up, pulling it to his waist, opening her to him completely.
She continued rolling her hips against his hard length, concentrating on the heat between her legs mounting.
Frankie’s breath turned ragged, every exhale a whimper. Her world shrank to the relentless pressure of his mouth, the roughness of his hand on her skin, and the intoxicating crest and fall of sensation as she drove towards sensual gratification.
Then, in an instant, her world exploded into a million shiny stars.
The moment his teeth clamped down on her nipple, sharp and deliberate, her body detonated.
There was no ramp-up, no warning, just a full-body convulsion as her orgasm tore through her like a supernova.
Her back arched so hard she nearly broke his hold on her hands as her hips bucked up, grinding hard against his shaft.
Pleasure bloomed from her core, expanding outward until she lost track of time, space, and even her own voice, which rose in a thin, desperate cry.
Liam held her steady through every shudder, every involuntary twitch. His mouth didn’t stop working to draw out every last ounce of sensation until she sagged into the mattress, boneless and trembling. She could feel her pulse everywhere, even in her fingers, still locked in his grasp.
He stayed with her as she rode out her aftershocks—tiny electrical currents sparking between her legs with each shallow thrust she made against him, unable to stop.
He kissed each breast in turn, lavishing them with equal reverence.
Then his mouth traveled up her throat, pausing to suck behind her ear, and then over her jaw, her cheeks, the tip of her nose, her eyelids, until finally he kissed the space between her eyebrows, like a benediction.
She opened her lids. He stared down at her, eyes green and hooded and almost unbearably gentle. For a moment, neither of them moved, both of them suspended in the glowing, aftershock-lit air of the room.
“Hi,” she breathed.
“Next time you come—” Liam’s voice was a low rumble, dangerous and warm, vibrating straight into her brainstem. With exaggerated slowness, he moved his hand from her leg between their bodies and pressed the broad, hot crown of his cock to her entrance.
She gasped. The heat of him felt so intense it was as if he’d been forged solely for her body.
Even just the pressure of his head on her seam was so much more than any fantasy, any trembling adolescent daydream.
The anticipation of what he would feel like inside of her made her thighs quiver.
Her body, already wrung out from the tremors of her release rippling through her, now seized with new urgency, nerves firing in a chain reaction that set her every sense sparking.
His green eyes darkened with intent as they trained on her.
She sensed him memorizing every twitch, every sharp intake, and every silent plea she tried to swallow.
The look on his face—the sheer concentration—sent a shiver of vulnerability through her.
She’d never felt so exposed in her life, and also never felt so thoroughly seen.
“—I will be inside you,” he finished, his voice as rough as gravel as he breached her just the slightest bit, his mushroom tip wedging past her opening.
Frankie’s breath hitched. Pain and pleasure collided as her body was forced to yield to his width. She felt herself stretch around him, open and trembling, a thin edge of burn that made her toes curl.
The second her body relaxed, only then did he press forward, slow and inexorable, relentless and steady.
She bit the inside of her cheek and tried to breathe, tried to force her body to relax.
His hold on her wrists never relented, keeping her arms captive above her head while her body learned to accommodate his.
Every muscle from her head to her toes was taut the need, almost unbearable.