15. We’re in Public
WE’RE IN PUBLIC
DEEPIKA
I barely had time to register what was happening before Liam was on me, his massive, elite-athlete frame a solid wall of muscle as he spun me around and slammed me against the door. The wood groaned under our combined weight, a sharp contrast to the furnace of his skin.
My entire world narrowed to the heat of his body, the rough demand of his mouth, and the way his thick fingers dug into the soft curve of my waist like he was trying to bruise the memory of his touch into my ribs.
His mouth crashed into mine, and it was a hot, desperate kiss with a collision of teeth and tongue. It felt like he had been starving for this, holding back for hours, and finally snapped.
We were still dripping from the pool, water sliding in cool rivulets between our bodies, our skin slick and warm.
The air was thick with the scent of chlorine, his spicy cedarwood cologne, and him.
He was everywhere, his hands tangling in my hair, his fingers fumbling with the towel wrapped around me until he ripped it away with a frustrated growl, sending the fabric fluttering to the floor.
“W-what are you doing?” I gasped between kisses, my voice breathless, my body already arching instinctively into his touch.
He didn’t answer as his mouth moved to my neck, sucking hard enough to leave a mark.
His teeth nipped and scraped down to my collarbone, sending a jolt of electricity straight to my clit.
His hands were on my bikini top, tugging at the strings with a frantic, clumsy energy that made me let out a jagged laugh.
“I don’t fucking know,” he growled, his voice rough, almost pained. “I’ve wanted to do this ever since I picked you up.”
And then his mouth closed over my nipple through the wet, thin fabric, biting down just enough to make me moan, my back arching so hard against the door that the handle poked into my spine.
His fingers twisted in my hair, pulling it free from the bun. The strands tumbled down my shoulders, damp and heavy, and he buried his face in them, inhaling as if he wanted to memorize the scent.
I could feel him. I could feel every hard, thick inch of his cock pressed against my thighs, straining against his swim trunks. The blunt pressure was maddening, and my body responded without thought, grinding my hips into him, seeking friction, seeking more, seeking him.
“I just—fuck,” he groaned, his hand sliding down my stomach, his calloused palm dragging over my skin before his fingers hooked into the waistband of my bikini bottoms. “I couldn’t stand that everyone was staring at you. Thinking they had a goddamn chance.”
I huffed out a laugh, even as my breathing hitched. “They were not—”
“Yes, they fucking were,” he said, pulling back to glare at me, his gray eyes darkened into a stormy, predatory black. “You look so sexy in this... tiny fucking thing. It’s a crime, Deepika.”
His hand shoved under my bikini bottoms, and his fingers found me dripping. I was soaked, swollen, and throbbing so hard it felt like a second heartbeat between my legs. He groaned, the sound vibrating deep inside my chest.
“Fuck, Deepika.”
I gasped, my hands flying to his wrist. I wasn’t pushing him away or pulling him closer, just holding on because my legs had gone weak.
His fingers moved in slow, tight circles over my clit, and I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think.
I could only feel the coil of pleasure tightening to a breaking point.
“W-we shouldn’t,” I said, my voice trembling as I heard the muffled sound of music and laughter through the door.
His fingers moved faster, dipping into my heat before returning to flick my clit again. I clutched at his shoulders, my nails digging into his skin.
“Why the fuck not?” He demanded, a vein popping in his neck as if he was angry at the thought of us stopping.
“Because we’re in public!”
He smirked, his thumb pressing down exactly where I needed it, sending a jagged bolt of lightning through my core. “And what if I don’t care?” He asked, purring in his deep voice.
“What if I want everyone to hear how hard I make my fiancée come? What if I want them to know you’re making those pathetic, beautiful noises just for me?” His fingers slid inside me, one first and then two, stretching me open until I let out a low, needy whine. “Hm? What if?”
I opened my mouth to argue, to say something, but then his fingers curved inside me, hitting that hidden, swollen spot that made my vision blur, and I was gone.
The orgasm hit me like a tidal wave. It was so sudden and overwhelming that I cried out before his other hand clamped over my mouth, muffling the sound as my body shook against him. My internal muscles clamped down on his fingers, milking them in desperate, rhythmic pulses.
But he didn’t stop. Liam kept that perfect, maddening rhythm, his thumb relentless on my clit, drawing out every wave of pleasure until I was boneless, my bikini bottoms soaked through with my release and my thighs trembling violently.
When I could finally breathe again, he gently pulled his hand away.
I felt cold and hollow the second he left.
And then, before I could process what was happening, he hooked his fingers in my bikini bottoms and pulled them down, yanking them past my knees and leaving me completely naked and shivering from the waist down.
“Liam, we…” I paused because I didn’t know what to say.
He had just pulled me away from the pool party and made me cum against a closed door with his dirty words crooning in my ear and expert fingers curling inside me.
Oh my God.
He held up my bikini bottoms, staring at them with an expression I couldn’t read. They were ruined and soaked through, glistening with the evidence of my climax. The sight of my own juices on his hand made my face explode with heat.
I tried to grab it from him, but he brought the damp fabric to his face.
And inhaled deeply.
“Liam!” I sputtered, face burning. “W-what are you doing?”
“I don’t fucking know,” he groaned, eyes closing as if he was in pain.
And then he dropped to his knees.
My breath hitched in my throat as his hands settled on my hips, his mouth inches from where I was still throbbing and weeping. He looked up at me with those devastating gray eyes, and I froze.
I stopped him when he tried to nuzzle his face between my thighs. My hands were curled in his golden, damp hair, my voice breathy and sultry, “Liam, we need to… w-what would others think—”
“Do I look like I care what others think when I have your glorious, sweet pussy in front of me?” He asked, his voice rough and desperate. “The only thing I care about is eating you out until you’re screaming my name. So let me. Please.”
I had never heard him say please like that. Like he was begging. Like he needed this as much as I did. Like he was starving for it.
I swallowed hard, every rational thought evaporating, and nodded.
It was enough.
Liam
As soon as I got her consent, I didn’t waste time.
My mouth crashed against hers, my tongue diving between her slick folds like a starving man.
Her head fell back against the door with a thud that should have concerned me, but didn’t, because she tasted like the most addictive nectar on earth, and I was so fucking addicted.
My tongue traced every inch of her, licking and sucking. I memorized what made her gasp, what made her shudder, and what made her fingers tighten in my hair until my scalp stung.
I slid one hand up her thigh, lifting it over my shoulder to open her up completely, giving me unfettered access to the most intoxicating thing I had ever tasted.
Her pussy was glistening, dripping, and all for me.
The realization sent a jolt of possessive lust straight to my cock, making it pulse so hard it was actually painful.
“Liam… oh, fuck!”
I groaned against her, the vibration of my voice making her clit twitch against my tongue. I felt her whole body shudder. My hands gripped the plushness of her ass, pulling her flush against my mouth, holding her exactly where I wanted her.
She was mine. Right now, in this moment, she was fucking mine.
This was insane. We were at a pool party. There were people outside. Olympic athletes and influencers, and cameras everywhere. They would lose their shit if they knew Liam James, the golden boy of swimming, was on his knees for Deepika Sharma, the woman I’d spent years pretending to despise.
And I didn’t give a single fuck.
Not when she tasted this good, and especially not when every whimper, every sound, every trembling breath she took went straight to my cock, making me throb for her.
Fuck, I was hard as a rock, my swim trunks straining against the desperate pulse of my erection.
I couldn’t take it anymore. With one hand, I freed myself, my cock snapping out of the waistband with a heavy thud and wrapped her soaked bikini bottoms around my length.
The wet fabric slid over my cock, the slickness of her arousal coating me, and I groaned into her cunt, my hips jerking involuntarily.
I started to pump my fist, the friction of her panties against my shaft creating an obscene, squelching sound. I kept fucking my hand. The wet noises mixing with the sloppy sounds of my mouth on her.
Her hands found my hair, and she gripped it hard, holding me exactly where she needed me. I doubled my efforts, my tongue flicking over her clit before sucking it deep into my mouth, swirling my tongue in frantic, wet circles.
“You taste so fucking good,” I muttered against her, barely pulling back long enough to speak. “I could do this all fucking day.”
She whimpered, and it was a broken, needy sound that nearly undid me. I could feel her internal muscles jumping, the tremors traveling through her thighs and into my hands.
I flicked my tongue over her clit again, harder, faster, until she came apart.
Her legs shook, her hands yanked at my hair, and she let out a muffled scream.
I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. I kept licking and sucking, drawing out every wave of her orgasm while I hammered my fist against my own length.
My release was coiling tighter and tighter in my gut, a white-hot pressure at the base of my spine.
I pumped my fist faster, her wet bikini bottoms rubbing my head raw in the best possible way.
My balls drew up, my vision blurring as pleasure crashed over me.
With a guttural groan, I came, my seed shooting out in hot, thick ropes that soaked into her bikini bottoms, mixing with her own juices and ruining the fabric completely.
I panted against her thigh, my breath ragged, my body wrecked and trembling.
The smell of our sex filled the small room, thick and heady.
When I finally pulled back, my lips swollen, my chin glistening with her heat, I looked up at her. Her eyes were unfocused, her chest heaving, her lips parted in a way that made my cock twitch all over again.
So fucking beautiful.
I wanted to throw her over my shoulder, take her to my house, tie her to my bed, and ravish her until neither of us could remember our own names. I wanted to mark her, claim her, make her mine in a way that went beyond this fake engagement, beyond the rivalry, beyond everything.
“Still think we shouldn’t?” I asked, my voice wrecked, my smirk lazy and satisfied.
She couldn’t speak and could barely breathe. She just slumped against the door, her skin flushed a deep, beautiful rose.
“Shut up, Liam,” she managed, her knees buckling as I kept my hands tight around her waist, holding her up.
My heart and cock throbbed.
Liam. Not Fish Boy.