“Shit. You’re tight. You’re perfect.”
Then he starts to move.
Slow at first, deep strokes that drag along every sensitive inch inside me, and I can’t hold back the noises spilling from my throat. It’s not enough. I want more. I roll my hips to meet his, and that’s all it takes for his rhythm to change.
He thrusts harder, deeper, hips snapping against mine with a wet slap that fills the room. The bed creaks beneath us. My breasts bounce with every movement, and he watches them, hands sliding under me to grip my ass and fuck me up into him, angling deeper.
“God, yes, right there…don’t stop!”
“I’m not fucking stopping,” he growls, teeth scraping my jaw before his tongue soothes the mark. “You feel too fucking good.”
His hand slips between us, fingers rubbing tight circles on my clit, and my cry rips from me without warning. My body arches up into him, my hands scrambling down his back as I writhe beneath him.
“Come on, Charlotte. Let go. I wanna feel you come on my cock.”
That does it. My body locks up, every nerve lighting up as the orgasm crashes over me hard and fast. I cry out, muscles clenching around him, and he doesn’t slow—he fucks me through it, each thrust sending aftershocks rippling through me until I’m trembling beneath him.
“Fuck, you’re squeezing me so tight. Fuck…”
He slams into me one last time and groans, long and guttural, spilling into me with a shudder that rocks both of us. His body stays tense for a second, then collapses against mine, panting against my neck, still buried deep inside me.
Neither of us moves.
His hand finds mine, fingers lacing, grounding us in the aftermath. I feel his heartbeat racing against my chest. My body is limp, boneless, completely undone.
After a minute, he shifts, just enough to kiss me. Not rough this time. Gentle. Slow. Still hungry, but quieter now.
“You okay?” he asks, voice hoarse.
I nod, stroking the back of his neck, still catching my breath. “More than okay.”
He exhales against my skin and rolls us onto our sides, keeping me close, keeping him inside me. His arm wraps tight around my waist like he’s not ready to let go.
And neither am I.
Because this didn’t feel like just fucking.
It felt like claiming. Like a promise we both finally dared to keep. I nestle against his chest, one leg thrown over his, his hand still tracing circles into my back.
“Liam?”
“Yeah?” His voice is already fading into sleep, warm and rough against my temple.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
He pulls me in tighter, lips brushing my hair.
“Good,” he murmurs.
And it is.
It really, really is.
Chapter 7
Liam
I wake up with a warm,soft weight pressed against my chest and the faint smell of her shampoo in my hair. It takes my brain a second to register where I am, and when it does, the realization hits somewhere low and tight.
