7. Anyone but You
ANYONE BUT YOU
LIAM
I was in deep, and I wasn’t just talking about the mattress (even though that sagging, cheap excuse for a bed was already protesting under my weight), but in her.
In Deepika fucking Sharma, of all people. The woman who had spent a decade sharpening her insults like knives, who made it her life’s mission to outshine me, to undermine me.
And now, here she was, sprawled beneath me like a goddamn feast. Her body still trembled from the last orgasm I had wrung out of her.
The dim lamplight painted her skin in liquid gold, every curve a taunt, every breath a challenge. My eyes traced the dark, blooming mark I had left on her throat which she would probably try to kill me for in the morning.
Her breasts rose and fell (no longer thirty-four-B) and they were definitely more than a handful, heavy and soft with dusky nipples that were pebbled hard, practically begging for my mouth to return.
I let my gaze drift lower, over the soft swell of her stomach, the plushness of her thighs, the glistening, swollen pink of her pussy, which was still dripping with the evidence of how much she wanted me.
The air between us was thick with her scent of jasmine and salt and the musk of her arousal as desperation and lust hovered in the surrounding air. I could still taste her on my tongue, sweet and metallic like honey and heat, and it was already a fucking addiction.
But it was her face that made my pulse thrum in my ears. She was glaring at me, her eyeliner smudged into a smoky mess that made her dark eyes look even more dangerous, her lips swollen from my kisses.
Fuck me, she’s stunning.
And I was in agony. Complete and utter agony.
My cock was straining so hard against the zipper of my pants that it felt like it might actually snap. It throbbed with a rhythmic, punishing heat, a heavy, aching weight that demanded to be buried in that wet heat between her legs.
I hissed, my hand working frantically as I fumbled for my wallet. I flipped it open, heart hammering against my ribs.
Fuck, it was empty. Panic clawed up my throat.
Shit.
I froze. I couldn’t let her know the truth that I hadn’t been with anyone in months because I was too busy obsessing over my lap times.
The tabloids loved to paint me as some kind of insatiable playboy, but the truth was, I hadn’t even bothered to stock up.
And now, with Deepika Sharma of all people, I was unprepared.
If I lost my edge now, she would eat me alive and never let me live it down.
“What happened?” Deepika asked, her voice low and sultry, sending a fresh jolt of electricity straight to my dick.
I couldn’t let her see me sweat.
“You’re on birth control, right?” I asked, forcing the words out and trying to sound bored instead of panicked, but my voice cracked like a fucking teenager’s.
Jesus Christ. I hadn’t even fumbled this much during my first time.
She frowned, but nodded. “Yes, why—”
I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding and crawled back over her, the heat of her body radiating against mine like a furnace.
I spread her thighs wider with my knees, ignoring the way my muscles screamed.
The taste of her still lingered on my lips, and I licked them, my body humming with the primal need to just bury myself into her.
“Good. Because I can’t—”
She suddenly stiffened, trying to shimmy backward. “Are you stupid?” She snapped, her voice sharp and cutting through the haze of lust.
“What?” I replied, frustrated by the sudden halt. My balls were tight and aching so fucking bad.
“I’m not... what if you give me an STI or something?”
“How dare you!” I balked, reaching out to pinch her plush, soft thigh gently in mock outrage. “I’m clean, Sharma. Fucking pristine.”
She huffed, a lock of hair falling over her eye. “I’m sure you are, with the way you’ve been sleeping through your entire roster of dates.”
“My roster?!” I barked. “I don’t have a roster! And I never have sex without—” I stopped and took a deep breath. I have to come clean and tell her. Fuck it. “I don’t have a condom, okay? I don’t have one!”
The silence that followed was excruciating. It was the kind The silence that followed was excruciating. I could hear the hum of the mini-fridge and the sound of my blood rushing in my ears. It was so awkward that I wanted to crawl into a hole and die.
“What do you mean you don’t…”
“I mean, I don’t have a condom, Deepika,” I deadpanned, feeling my face heat.
This is not how this was supposed to go. I was supposed to smirk my way through the sex while she clung to me the next morning, asking for my number because I dick-matized her.
“But you were here with Valentina,” she shot back, blinking up at me as if I had grown a second head.
I scoffed, rolling my eyes. “Valentina is a good friend. She was my date, not my Saturday night conquest. I wasn’t going to sleep with her.”
She just stared at me, her mouth slightly agape.
“Wow,” I said, crossing my arms as my ego took a direct hit. “So you really think I’m just some dirty pervert who can’t keep his dick in his pants if someone walks by in a skirt?”
“Well, yeah,” she said, nodding slowly, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
I closed my eyes, rubbing my temples. I could feel the sweat slicking my skin as I sighed. How the hell had my reputation spiraled so far from the truth? When I opened them, Deepika was biting her lip, her shoulders shaking with a suppressed giggle.
“What?” I grumbled.
“Nothing,” she squeaked, the giggle breaking through.
“This is so fucking stupid,” I said, about to get off the bed. I couldn’t do this. My pride was taking a beating and my balls were screaming.
“There’s one in my purse,” Deepika said, trying to sober up.
I froze again, my head snapping toward her. “You were going to fuck Marcus Reynolds?!”
Deepika rolled her eyes so hard I thought they’d get stuck. “No, you fucking idiot. He’s g—he’s just a friend. It’s for emergencies.”
I didn’t ask questions and lunged for her purse on the floor, dumping the contents onto the other bed that was empty. Contents flew out of the tiny purse like lip gloss, a few crumpled bills, sanitizer, a tampon—and there they were.
A strip of two condoms.
“Did you have to shove everything out to get them?” Deepika asked, her tone full of annoyance.
I held them up, wriggling my eyebrows, the metallic crinkle of the foil sounding like a victory march.
She deadpanned, “They might be too large for you.”
“Might be too small, you mean.” I huffed, tearing the foil open with my teeth. The sharp scent of latex filled the air. “Who were you trying to fuck with these?”
I bet I have a bigger dick than Marcus.
“Anyone but you,” she shot back.
I shrugged, rolling the latex down and feeling the agonizingly tight relief of it. I grabbed her ankles, yanking her back toward the center of the bed. “Too late for that, don’t you think, darling?”
The air between us shifted as I settled between her legs. As the blunt head of my cock pressed against her wet, pulsing entrance, we both took a sharp, jagged breath. She was so slippery, so incredibly hot, that I nearly lost it right then.
“Be gentle,” she whispered, her voice trembling with a vulnerability that punched the air out of my lungs.
I wanted to tell her that she was safe. I wanted to tell her I’d go as slow as she needed. Instead, I just nodded, my jaw tight, and gripped her hips so hard my knuckles turned white. I slid in.
Fuck.
It was both heaven and hell. She was so tight, every internal muscle clamping around me like a velvet glove.
The heat of her pussy was too fucking perfect.
It felt like being buried in molten gold.
I stopped, my vision blurring, my forehead resting against hers as our breaths mingled in hot, desperate puffs.
“Oh... fuck,” she gasped, her eyes fluttering shut.
I groaned, burying my face in the crook of her neck. I moved slowly at first, a shallow pull and a deep, agonizing shove, letting her body stretch to take me.
I was a gold medalist, so I knew about pacing, but this was a different kind of endurance.
Once her gasps turned into low, rhythmic moans and her hips started to buck upward to meet me, I lost the fight for restraint.
I began to drive into her, my thrusts becoming powerful and primal.
I could hear the wet, slapping sound of our bodies colliding and the creak of the bed frame picking up speed.
I lost myself in her. I was fucking her hard, my muscles bunching and straining as I bottomed out with every stroke. The bed rattled violently against the wall, the frame groaning in protest.
Deepika wrapped her legs around my waist, locking me in, and that was the end of my restraint. I drove into her, my hand finding her clit, rubbing tight, punishing circles as I thrust. Her face contorted, her body tensing—
Crack.
The bed frame gave way with a sickening splintering sound, and the mattress tilted sharply to the left as a wooden slat snapped.
We both froze, our eyes widening.
“Did you just… break the bed?” Deepika panted, half-laughing, half-horrified.
I didn’t answer because I was too far gone. I reached down, scooped her up in my arms (she felt so light, so perfect) and strode the two steps to the other queen-size bed. I swept her belongings off the duvet with one hand and slammed her down onto the fresh sheets.
“Liam, we just broke the bed—”
“Don’t care,” I growled, pinning her wrists above her head. My cock was throbbing, weeping into the condom. “I need to fill you up right now.”
I silenced her with a hungry, clumsy kiss, my tongue clashing with hers as I slid back home. I didn't hold back this time. I moved with desperate intensity, my movements jagged and fast. I played with her clit, my fingers slick with her juices, until her orgasm ripped through her.
Her internal muscles went into a frenzy, convulsing around me in tight, rhythmic pulses. The sheer force of her climax pulled me over the edge. I let out a low, guttural roar, my vision going white as I emptied myself into the latex, my whole body vibrating with the force of it.
And then, the familiar, ominous groan of wood.
Thud.
The second bed gave out, sinking in the middle with a pathetic, final crash.
For a long moment, we just lay there in the ruins of the furniture, tangled together and covered in sweat. Then Deepika started to laugh. It wasn’t the mocking laugh I was used to. It was a bright, free, and beautiful. I realized I had never seen her like that. So completely unburdened.
“That was so silly,” she chuckled, her voice breathy.
“What?” I asked, propping myself up on my elbows, looking down at her radiant face. “Breaking two beds with my amazing dick power?”
The laughter stopped instantly. She reached out and smacked my sweaty chest. “Don’t ever call it that.”
I smirked, leaning down to nip at her ear. “You don’t like my dick power, hm? But it made you orgasm and—”
Deepika slapped her hand over my mouth, her face turning a delicious shade of red. “Shut. Up.”