His hands tighten on my waist, helping to control my movement as I ride him shamelessly, not caring what I look like.
“Your tits,” he breathes out in a twisted moan. “They’re beautiful.”
I look down to catch his gaze stuck on the front of my bra. “Undo it. Take it off.”
He reaches behind me with one hand. In an instant, the clasp is free, and the bra is sliding down my arms.
He tosses it somewhere behind me.
“Oh, fuck.” One of his hands leaves my side as he reaches for my breast. “So pretty. Such pretty pink nipples.”
I throw my head back with a moan when I hear those words. When his mouth finds one of my nipples, I teeter on that edge.
It’s that edge of release. It’s the moment before my body splinters into a thousand shards of pleasure.
I rock back and forth, using his cock to chase my desire, and when I come, he bites my nipple hard, sending me straight into a second orgasm that steals my breath and leaves me trembling in his arms.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Liam
By the timeI walk back into my bedroom, Athena is fully dressed.
I expected as much. As soon as she came, she rolled off of me, curled into a ball on her side, and worked to catch her breath.
I cradled her from behind with my bare chest pressed against her back.
I wanted to slide those boy shorts down and fuck her, but she was spent.
When she asked me to get her a glass of water, I took off for the kitchen without question.
I knew that the odds were high that she’d be aching to leave when I got back.
“Thank you,” she says when I hand her the water.
She drinks two sips before shoving it back in my hand. “I think I should go.”
I’ve never dealt with this before. The moments after sex for me usually involve my head between my partner’s legs until she comes again.
Athena isn’t looking for more, and even though my dick has settled to the point that it’s only semi-hard, I’m aching to touch her again.
“I’m sorry,” she mutters under her breath. “I’m sorry, Liam.”
I set the glass of water on the bedside table. “Hey, no. Don’t say that.”
Her eyes dart over my face in a panic. “It was a lot for me. That was the best…I’ve never done that before with a man.”
I don’t want to be insensitive, but I need to ask. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t come with men,” she admits with her gaze on the floor. “Only by myself.”
What the ever-loving fuck?
Is she serious?
Who the hell has she been sleeping with?
I don’t press because that pink hue on her cheeks tells me that it wasn’t an easy confession for her to make.
