“I don’t know how to keep you.”
I place my hands on his hips and draw him toward me. “Please stop pretendin’ we’re not already spinnin’ toward different skies.”
He kneels between my legs. His hands find my thighs. When he rests his forehead against my chest, I wrap my arms around him and hold on like I still believe we can survive this.
Love isn’t the problem. It’s abundant between us. It’s the fear we both carry.
It’s always been the knife at our backs.
So we default to sex. Like we always do.
Liam doesn’t wait for permission, his mouth demands my cock. The heat of his lips swallows my head and Iswear everything goes white at the edges. He sucks in slow, greedy rolls. Tongue dragging along the underside of my shaft, tasting me in long, methodical strokes.
He takes me deep, past the rim of his teeth, and I feel the soft, rough scrape at the base of his throat as he works me the way I love. He hums, a guttural, animal sound vibrating along my cock and into my bones. My hand finds the nape of his neck and I clamp down to anchor myself to him.
Liam sucks me with precision. Throat opening, throat closing, taking me, then releasing me so my tip quivers with each squeeze. Each time his tongue flicks along the thick vein underneath my crown, I see stars burst behind my lids.
His hands aren’t idle, either. One clutches his own cock, stroking himself as he works me with his mouth. The other maps the soft hollow where my thigh joins my pelvis, his thumb kneading the warm flesh behind my balls until my breath stutters. Without breaking his rhythm, he descends to the place between my scrotum and my asshole.
He tongues my taint with long, deliberate licks, circling my puckered rim, then dipping inside. A sharp, involuntary exhale turns into a choked wheeze.
Liam loves it when he coaxes this sound from my soul. He works me, sliding his fingers under my balls, pulling them up and nuzzling with his mouth. He sucks one into his cheek, then the other, slurping them both into the hollow and rolling them gently against the roof of his mouth. The sensation is obscene. Exquisite.
Impossibly intimate.
My hips start to buck, betraying me. I wince, trying to carve time out of the pressure building in my gut, but Liam clamps a palm to my sternum and pins me down with his weight.
His eyes are fierce when he looks up at me, pupils blown. “Stay with me.”
A command I wish I couldobey.
He drags his tongue in wide, velvet strokes, then flicks it sharp at my frenulum until I’m whimpering, fingers digging crescents into his scalp. When he takes me again, he goes deeper than before, pushing until the back of my cock hits his throat and he gags. One sharp, involuntary sound and I can’t help but clamp down on his head with guilt and a feral wanting all at once.
Liam swallows my cock down, throat bobbing. His determined motion sends me into a frenzy.
I’m on the edge, lurching toward the cliff, and he answers me—palm wrapping my shaft in a rhythm echoing the bobbing of his throat. His eyes are locked on mine with a wrecked, worshipful look intended to remind me how thoroughly I’m loved.
The sound of his hand on his own cock is wet and urgent. Skin slapping skin, fist jerking himself in time with the way he sucks me, faster now, throat taking and giving, his own breaths hitching. He glances down, watching his hand move then resumes watching me.
The sight of him fucking himself with my cock buried between his lips sends a current through me so hot I taste copper.
“Don’t stop,” I croak.
His mouth becomes a vise, a temple, a furnace. I feel the knot in my stomach fist and release; it’s sudden and total. My orgasm slams into me like a truck: bright white, spreading down my legs, through my hands, making my vision swim.
I howl his name, not a prayer but utter surrender, my cock seizing as ropes of come shoot against the back of his throat. He doesn’t flinch. He swallows every drop, leaving me raw. When, at last, he draws back, a strand of spit and come between us snaps like a fragile wire.
He pulls his mouth free with a pop, lips and chin shining with my spunk and he licks his lips clean, eyes half-closed and luminous. For a fraction of a second I watch his Adam’sapple flick, his breath hot and ragged against my sweat-slick skin.
My voice breaks, raw and needy. “Liam, please. Fuck, please—”
“Please what?” He looks up at me with wild, hungry eyes, stroking himself languidly. A tease to watch me unravel.
“Fuck me,” I beg. The words pour out, shameless, thick with hunger. “I need you to fill me up.”
I don’t care how I sound.
I don’t care how desperate it is.
