Chapter 35 #2
I came willingly into his arms and looked up at him just in time for him to dip his head and kiss me.
God, he could kiss.
He could kiss so well, it would make me forget what day, month, or year it was. I was addicted to his kisses.
Without breaking the kiss, he grabbed the hem of my shirt and pulled it up. I moved away just enough to take it off completely before our lips met again. His hands roamed over my body, divesting me of my clothes as he went. I was a needy mess by the time he’d gotten me naked.
He tore his lips away, both of us panting heavily in the quiet of my room. Without a word—or breaking our stare—he quickly got out of his clothes until we were both standing bare in front of each other.
He reached out, wrapping his hand around the back of my neck and bringing me in for another salacious kiss. “I want you to get on the bed and spread those sexy legs for me, show me how wet I just made you.”
I couldn’t hold the whimper back.
And I couldn’t deny him either.
As I walked backward to the bed, he wrapped his hand around his length, his eyes never leaving mine.
“This is what you do to me,” he said, his voice rough. “Every fucking time. I think about you and I can’t—” His breath caught as his hand moved. “I can’t think about anything else.”
I watched, transfixed, as he stroked himself. Watched his chest rise and fall, watched his jaw clench with restraint, watched his eyes darken with want. He was beautiful like this—undone, vulnerable, and completely focused on me.
“Ava.” My name sounded like a prayer on his lips.
I leaned back against my pillows, propping myself up so I could see him. So he could see all of me.
And then I let my hand drift down my body.
I touched myself the way I’d learned to over the summer—the way he’d taught me my body wanted to be touched.
Slow at first. Teasing. But there was nowhere to hide here.
No role to play, no distraction of his hands or his mouth to get lost in.
Just me, exposed under the soft glow of fairy lights, while the man I loved watched me.
My fingers trailed over my collarbone, down between my breasts, across my stomach, retracing the path his hands had taken so many times before.
My hand slid lower, over the soft skin below my navel, and then I slipped my fingers between my thighs.
I was already wet—embarrassingly so—my core slick and swollen from the anticipation of his eyes on me, dark and hungry in the glow of the fairy lights.
Two fingers slid through my folds, spreading the wetness and then circling my clit with barely there pressure that made my hips shift against the mattress. I was teasing myself the way he teased me, drawing it out, making myself wait.
“That’s it,” he murmured, and his voice was wrecked. “God, Ava. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
My cheeks burned. Every instinct I had screamed at me to close my eyes, to retreat into the safety of my own head where no one could see how badly I wanted this. But I forced myself to keep looking at him.
Liam’s hand was wrapped around his cock, stroking himself in long, lazy pulls, and the sight of it made my breath hitch.
His jaw was tight, his abs flexing with each stroke, and his eyes—God, his eyes were eating me alive.
They tracked the movement of my fingers with a hunger so fierce I felt it in my soul.
His tongue darted out to lick across his lips, and a moan escaped my throat.
I pressed harder against my clit, rubbing in tighter circles, and another moan slipped out, louder than before. My other hand found my breast, pinching my nipple the way he’d done in the past, and the sharp sting sent a bolt of heat straight between my legs.
“Look at you,” he rasped, his gaze pinning me in place. “Touching your pretty little cunt like that for me. Fuck, Ava, do you have any idea what you do to me?”
The words settled into my chest like a brand. I wanted to believe them. Wanted to believe that being bare and desperate while on the verge of falling apart from my own hand was powerful and not something that would eviscerate me.
I slid two fingers inside myself, gasping at the stretch, and started to work them in a slow rhythm.
My palm ground against my clit with every thrust, and the wet sound of it filled the quiet room.
I probably would’ve been mortified if it wasn’t for the way Liam groaned—low and guttural, his grip tightening around himself and his pace picking up.
His reaction made me feel powerful instead.
I curled my fingers, searching for that spot he always found so effortlessly, and when I hit it, my back arched off the mattress. “Fuck,” I breathed, my thighs trembling.
“Fuck, yes. Keep going, Sunshine.” His voice was a rough whisper. “Imagine those are my fingers fucking you.”
I did. I fucked myself with my fingers while he watched until it felt like the room shrank to nothing but his eyes and my hand and the heat building low in my belly like a lit fuse. I added a third finger, needing more, needing to be full, and the moan that tore from my throat was obscene.
The pleasure built faster than I expected, pushed higher by his eyes on me, by the nakedness of this moment. I was doing the most vulnerable thing I’d ever done, and he was looking at me like I was a revelation.
I was close—so close— my fingers working faster, my clit throbbing, every muscle in my body coiling tight. I couldn’t look away from him. Couldn’t hide.
“Fuck, Sunshine. Come with me,” he said softly, his voice strained. His hand was moving faster and his body was taut like a bowstring about to snap. “I’ve got you,” he said with a groan as his pace quickened.
I watched him chase his release, watched his whole body tense, all while he watched me with a hunger so fierce it made me breathless.
We shattered at the same time.
My orgasm hit me like a wave crashing—sudden and all-consuming. My back arched, my thighs clamped around my hand, and I cried out his name as I pulsed around my own fingers. Through the haze of it, I saw him break too as a guttural groan ripped from his throat while he shuddered out his release.
He’d moved before I’d finished shaking, his mouth finding mine in a kiss that tasted like desperation.
And I kissed him back just as fiercely.
One more thing checked off the list.
Only two more left.
The thought made my chest ache so badly I had to close my eyes against it.
Soon I wouldn’t be able to hide behind sex or a kiss. We’d have to be honest about what this was.
Or—what I feared the most—what it wasn’t.