Chapter 37 Anna
Anna
Liam draws back to discard his half-empty glass before his hand settles gently on my knee, skimming a slow path up my thigh.
His mouth meets mine and, as before, his kiss is soft and tender.
My tongue seeks his, dancing slowly together.
The moment he deepens the kiss, I whimper, and a rough grumble reverberates through his chest.
“Lie back,” he rasps against my lips.
He eases me onto my back, his large body covering mine.
He brackets my head with his forearms, and I automatically part my legs for him, so he settles between them.
Heat erupts over my body, licking flames over my skin the moment I feel the hardness of his cock pressing against me through the thin barrier of fabric between us.
The friction makes me gasp and I arch into him.
My skirt is rucked up to my waist and he grinds down, dragging out another needy sound from me.
I need to get these damn stockings off.
Liam pulls back, rising to his knees as his gaze falls to my legs. I tug at the waistband, lifting my hips to shimmy them off, but his big hands clamp down at the tops of my thighs, pinning me.
“Liam, my—”
A loud rip cuts through the air as he tears my stockings clean apart. “Fuck,” he growls, eyes flaring as his thumb brushes over the damp spot of my thong, clinging to my pussy lips.
The lace suddenly strains against my skin as his hand fists the material.
“Liam, I’ll just—”
The words die in my throat when another sound of tearing fabric splits around us. He tosses the scraps aside, leaving me totally bare. He pushes my thighs further apart.
Then, wordlessly, his fingers work at his belt, unfastening and dragging the zipper down. He pushes his trousers low, his nostrils flaring as he takes me in. “I need you, Anna.”
The confession undoes me, and suddenly I’m famished for him. “I need you too.”
This time when his thumb connects with my slick, naked core, I moan.
“So. Fucking. Wet,” he murmurs, but this time it isn’t rough. This time, he looks at me with wonder. He lowers himself between my thighs, his shoulders pushing them wider. His eyes latch on to mine and my chest heaves as his mouth hovers just shy of me.
“I’m not stopping until you’re falling apart for me,” he grunts.
His hot breath fans over my pussy as he parts me with his thumbs.
His tongue drags over me in one long, claiming line.
He doesn’t let up, groaning into me like he’s starving.
His tongue dips low to tease me where no one else has ever dared, swirling around my arsehole before sweeping upward until he’s at my clit.
He stays there, drawing slow circles that make my whole body tremble.
“Liam,” I gasp, rocking against his mouth. My fingers grip his hair and I tug, eliciting a deep groan from him.
His tongue flicks, plunges, and strokes me until I’m dizzy, the coil inside winding tighter and tighter.
Then his hand joins in, fingers drenched as they press against my entrance. When two thick digits sink inside me, my head drops back with a broken sob.
“Christ, you taste so good,” he mumbles against me, his tongue never leaving my clit.
“I’m so close,” I pant.
His fingers hook, finding that heated spot inside, pressing and rubbing again and again, the climax crawling up my body like a vine until I can’t hold on any longer. My orgasm rips through me and I cry out his name.
He looks up through his lashes as he drinks me down. When I try to wriggle away, he pins me in place, forcing me to ride out every wave until they slow to gentle ripples, then stop.
His wet lips press against my inner thigh.
“I need you. I need to see you. To feel you. All of you,” I murmur.
He stills, drawing back so his hooded eyes search mine. Then, slowly, he pulls back. Kneeling, his hands move to his shirt, undoing each button one by one.
The night air is chilly, but my body is a furnace.
I can’t look away, watching the fabric part, exposing a wide strip of chiseled muscles and smooth skin. I’m mesmerized as he watches me watching him.
Keeping his shirt on, his abs flex as he pushes himself up to stand, kicking off his shoes, trousers, and briefs.
His dick stands thick, long, and proud, his balls heavy.
Under the whiskey glow of the fairy lights, he looks godlike.
As if each inch of him was carved deliberately for my personal pleasure.
“Your turn,” he murmurs, his voice hoarse.
“It’s cold,” I laugh.
“I’ll keep you warm.”
He offers me his hand and I slip mine into it. He pulls me to my feet like I weigh nothing.
His attention is unwavering as I bend to unzip my boots, dropping them next to the blanket. My fingers find the shredded stockings and I peel the torn fabric down my legs, the cool evening air prickling my skin.
Hooking my fingers under the hem of my dress, I drag it up, baring myself inch by inch. Over my head, off my body, and dropped to the floor in a heap. I reach behind me, unclasping my bra, and let it land at my feet.
We stand facing each other. Our chests rising and falling in sync. Even though we’ve been naked together before, this time is different. This time it feels like so much more.
The look in his eyes. The parting of his lips. The uneven pull of his breath.
“Is this what you need?” he says, his voice low as he closes the distance between us, hunger in his expression.
I nod, raking my gaze over his body, every steel line of him. “Yeah,” I whisper.
He doesn’t give me a chance to breathe as he holds my head, covering my mouth with his. I force my tongue past his lips as one big, warm hand fists my hair, and the other traces the line of my throat until he reaches the hollow, continuing his descent.
His tongue continues to sweep against mine and I slide my hands into his open shirt, up his corded stomach and neck, and into his dark locks, holding him there. His erection presses into my stomach, painting me with a smear of pre-cum, and I moan.
He palms my breast, strumming his thumb back and forth over my nipple. His touch ignites embers, shooting fire through my veins.
“That feels so good,” I breathe against his lips, bending into his touch. My hand drops to his cock, wrapping my fingers around his hardness.
He groans. “Lie down, Anna.”
I lower myself to the blanket and he drops back over me, reaching for the knitted throw and covering us.
He braces himself on one forearm as he guides his cock into my drenched entrance.
He doesn’t slam into me. He doesn’t claim me like he has before.
This time, his eyes bore into mine as he slowly slides inside me with a shuddering breath.
I take him inch by inch, stretching wide until he’s to the hilt. He’s stuffing me so full it borders on overwhelming, but I relish the sting. I take all of it.
Our gazes lock and, for a heartbeat, we both go utterly still.
Our bodies are joined but motionless, like the universe itself has stopped to watch.
Every sound around us dissolves. Our breath, distant car horns, the faint buzz of streetlights.
It all fades away. There’s nothing but us and the heat radiating between our bodies.
His eyes burn into mine with an unspoken question. And I answer without any words, my fingers finding purchase on his shoulders as I tilt my pelvis, surrendering to whatever’s passing between us.
Only then does he move. Each stroke builds in intensity, growing deeper with every thrust. My body synchronizes with his, the sounds of our skin connecting, mingling with our ragged pants as he pumps into me steadily.
His movements aren’t frantic, or desperate, or wild.
They’re perfect. My fingers weave through his hair as he dips his head.
He swallows every sound that pours out of me as he continues tasting.
Sweat beads along his temples as he maintains tempo.
All at once, emotion bubbles through my body.
He breaks the kiss, dusting his lips against the shell of my ear and dragging them down my neck, sucking at the sensitive skin as if he wants to leave proof I’m his. He floods me, saturates me, moving until I can’t tell where I end and he begins, my eyes fluttering shut as I clutch him tightly.
He moves his head to catch my bottom lip between his teeth. “Look at me,” he demands. Darkness floods his pupils. “Say you’re mine,” he murmurs.
His words drape over me, wrapping me in softness and heat. “I’m yours,” I breathe.
“Goddamn.” He rocks into me, and another sob catches in my throat. He lifts my leg, slinging it over his shoulder, and each drive into me feeds my own desperation.
I search for his hand, lacing our fingers together beside my head.
“Are you close, baby?” he croaks, kissing my ankle.
I nod. “Yeah.”
He fills me again and again with steady power. “I want to see you when you come. Keep your eyes open for me, Anna.”
I wouldn’t dare close them.
“Liam,” I warn. “I’m getting close.”
His hand moves to where we join. “I need to feel it. Right here,” he rasps, thrumming my clit as our sweat-slicked bodies tighten. We’re a tangle of moans and strained muscles as we chase our climax together.
“Liam. I’m gonna—”
“Me too.”
My release is different. It’s not the sharp, searing rush I’ve known before, but a steady surrender. It’s consuming. Every nerve is exposed and every barrier melted as Liam sheds my armor. My defenses.
He pulses, whispering my name as he spills his seed inside me.
When the aftershocks fade, he lowers himself beside me and pulls me into him.
His cheek rests against my temple, and I breathe a silent prayer, because if he wasn’t anchoring me in the warmth of his arms, I swear I’d float away.