Chapter 25 #3
“Always so fucking good.” His voice was ragged against my ear, one arm banding around my waist to hold my back flush against his chest while he sank deeper, deeper, until he bottomed out and I could feel his hips pressed against my ass.
“So warm and wet and fucking perfect. Best pussy I’ve ever had.
Fuck—” He rocked his hips, grinding into me, and the fullness of him at this angle made my eyes flutter shut. “Can’t get enough.”
He started to move, slow and languid, nothing like the hard pace from earlier.
This was drowsy and intimate, but still driven by an insatiable neediness that seemed to affect him as much as it did me.
His hand stayed between my legs, his fingers stroking my clit in lazy circles that matched his unhurried thrusts.
Each slow drag of his cock had me clenching around him, and each clench drew a low sound from his throat that vibrated against my spine.
My mind was still foggy with sleep, but every sensation was magnified. The stretch of him inside me. His breath hot against my neck. The wet sounds of our bodies moving together in the dark. The involuntary moans I couldn’t seem to hold back.
Fuck.
He said I was perfect, but this was perfect. I never wanted it to end, but I could already feel another orgasm beginning to tighten in my belly.
“You feel so good,” he whispered, and there was something stripped down about his voice—like sleep had dismantled whatever walls he usually kept up. “Ava. I can’t…I can’t get enough of you. Don’t think I’ll ever get enough.”
I reached back, threading my fingers through his hair, pulling his mouth to the curve of my shoulder. He kissed me there, open-mouthed and hot, then bit down gently—sucking a mark into my skin while his hips maintained that devastating rhythm.
“Harder,” I breathed.
He obliged, his thrusts picking up speed, his grip tightening on my hip as he drove into me with more force.
The change in pace pushed me toward the edge faster than I expected, especially when his fingers pressed harder on my clit, rubbing in fast, tight circles while his cock drove into me deep enough to cause a whimper to escape with each stroke.
The orgasm spread through my body like a wave of heat until it broke and I came apart in his arms—trembling, gasping his name into the dark, my inner walls gripping him in rhythmic pulses.
He followed seconds later, his hips stuttering against me, his arm crushing me against his chest as he buried himself deep and came with a low groan before my name fell from his lips, muffled against the back of my neck, like it was the only word he knew.
“Ava.”
He held me tight as we both came down from our intense orgasms. I laced my fingers through his, pulling them against my chest.
“Thank you,” I whispered, my voice thick with emotion. “This was better than any fantasy I’d ever had.”
He kissed my shoulder. “I’d do anything for you, Sunshine.”
I closed my eyes, ignoring the moisture that escaped as I held him close and pretended—just for tonight—that this was real. That he was mine.
When I woke up next, sunlight was streaming through the blinds and the space beside me was cold and empty.
For one horrible second, I thought he’d left without saying goodbye. But then a moment later, Liam appeared in the doorway, already dressed, his hair messy but still looking sexier than anyone had any right to be.
“Morning, Sunshine.” He crossed the room and kissed my forehead. “When do your parents get back from their trip?”
“Sometime this afternoon.” My voice was still rough with sleep, and I pulled the covers up to my chest, suddenly aware of how naked I was in the daylight.
He sat on the edge of the bed, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “I should go. Don’t want to push our luck.”
I nodded because he was right. The smart thing—the safe thing—was for him to leave before anyone could see his truck in the driveway. Because we were a secret.
Just fuck buddies until my list was complete.
“I had the best day yesterday,” he said quietly, his voice sincere. He kissed me once more and then stood. “I’ll text you later.”
I grabbed my robe and watched him walk back to his truck from the porch. He climbed in, started the engine, and lifted his hand in a wave before pulling down the driveway.
I stared at the direction he drove off in for a long time, well after his truck had disappeared. My heart was racing in my chest as panic and pain mixed together.
I’d made a mistake.
I wasn’t sure if I’d made it yesterday, or if I’d made it months ago when I agreed to let Liam check off this list with me, but I was positive now it had been a mistake.
Because clarity had hit me like a hammer somewhere between falling asleep in his arms and watching him drive away.
I was in love with Liam Farrell.
Not falling.
Not “starting to have feelings.”
In love.
Completely, stupidly, terrifyingly in love with him.
My chest ached with how much I loved him because I knew he would never love me back. That was the one thing he’d made perfectly clear from the beginning.
This was just supposed to be a bucket list. An arrangement. A way to prove to myself that I wasn’t boring, that I could want things without being too much. Liam was supposed to be safe—emotionally unavailable, commitment-phobic, and the last person on earth I’d fall for.
And I’d fallen anyway.
And now I was going to end up heartbroken.