The way it felt like rowing together. That same effortless synchronization—two bodies finding the same rhythm without thinking.
Liam broke the kiss to breathe. His forehead pressed against mine. "You feel so good."
"So do you."
His hips rocked against me and we both groaned. The friction was incredible but not enough. I needed more. Needed him closer. Needed—
"Touch me," I said. Not a question. A plea. And I didn't care how desperate it sounded because I was past the point where pride meant anything.
Liam's hand slid between us, wrapping around my cock. I gasped, hips jerking into his grip.
"Like this?" he asked.
"Yes." The word came out as a hiss through my teeth.
I reached down and wrapped my hand around him. Hard and hot in my palm, and the sound he made when I stroked him went straight through my chest and settled somewhere permanent.
We found a rhythm together. Slow at first, then faster. His hand on me, my hand on him, our mouths crashing together in desperate kisses that were more breath than contact.
"Alex—"
"I know. Me too."
The pressure was building. That sharp edge of pleasure coiling tighter in my gut. Liam was getting close too—his breathing ragged, his strokes losing coordination, his whole body tensing against mine.
"I'm gonna—" he started.
"Come with me," I said.
Liam's eyes locked on mine. Dark and intense and so beautiful it made my chest ache.
A few more strokes and I was gone. The orgasm hit like a wave—intense and overwhelming and perfect. I came hard, spilling over both our hands and onto my stomach, Liam's name torn from my throat in a sound I'd never made before.
I kept jerking him, I wanted his hot cum all over me.
Liam followed a second later. His whole body went rigid, his hand tightening around me as he came with a groan ripped from somewhere deep inside him.
We lay there. Breathing hard. Bodies still pressed together. The mess between us warm and sticky and neither of us moving to deal with it. Not when Liam was still on top of me, his weight grounding me, his face buried in my neck. His breath hot against my skin.
"Fuck," he breathed.
"Yeah."
For a long moment, neither of us moved. Just the aftermath—hearts racing, lungs catching up, the quiet settling back over the room like water filling a space.
Then Liam shifted. "We should probably clean up."
"Yeah. Hold on."
I reached over to my nightstand, pulled open the drawer, and grabbed the small towel I kept there. Started wiping myself off.
Liam watched me, eyebrows raised. "Is that... what you always use?"
"Yeah." I handed it to him. "Why?"
He took it, expression somewhere between amused and disgusted. "That's kind of gross."
I laughed—actually laughed, and the sound surprised me. "I've seen your dorm room.Thatwas gross."
