“What?” I pull back to look at him. His face is strained, his jaw is tight.
“I told you that you could ride my cock for as long as you like, but you’re going to make me come before you.”
“Oh! Sorry!”
Liam’s laugh turns into a deep moan as I move a little faster.
“You’re just going to have to make yourself come for me first.”
“How do you mean?”
He gently takes my hand and brings it to his lips, kissing the palm before sucking on the tips of two of my fingers.
“Holy fuck!” I throw my head back, as my eyes go wide. The sensation goes right to my clit. He maneuvers my fingers between my legs.
“Don’t make me a liar, Ash. Make yourself come.”
My hand shakes a little as I follow his guidance, fingers slipping between my thighs. I touch myself, finding my clit swollen, drenched in slick.
“Right there,” he coaches.
I rock down onto him, grinding my hips to rub my clit against my fingers while Liam holds me steady. His cock stretches me wide, the fullness and friction just this side of too much. I close my eyes. It’s too intense, but Liam grabs my throat again and squeezes lightly.
“I want you to watch when you make me come.”
He keeps one hand on my hip, encouraging me with tight pressure, letting me use him, letting me take whatever I need.
I can’t keep quiet. Moans and gasps tear out of me.
“Good girl,” he rasps, voice rough and shaking. “Don’t you dare make me come first.”
I press down and rub harder, the sensation blinding. I shatter, crying out as I come, my body convulsing around his cock, squeezing him hard. I can feel every twitch, every pulse, every stretch as my orgasm rips through me. My cunt spasms, squeezing him, slick coating both of us.
“Fuck, Ash, fuck, you’re perfect,” Liam groans, his hips thrusting up.
He loses it then, bucking up into me. He clutches me to his chest, teeth gritted, fingers bruising on my hips as he buries himself deep. His cock pulses as he comes, thick and hot, filling me, his whole body straining and shuddering beneath me.
I collapse forward, panting. For a long moment, neither of us says anything. There’s only the sound of our breathing.
Self-consciousness rushes in like a slap. I’m still in Liam’s lap, impaled on his cock, trembling, and my face is flushed hot enough to burn.
“Oh god, sorry,” I stammer, pushing off him with a mortifying squelch. His cock slips from me, and the sudden emptiness triggers another sharp, involuntary spasm. I bite down on my knuckles, trying to muffle the sound. It doesn’t work. I moan anyway.
Liam just laughs softly, his arms still around my waist, stroking lazy circles on my back. “You don’t have to apologize,” he says, voice warm, almost reverent. “That was…”
I interrupt him, already babbling. “Oh god, I’m sorry, I just…”
He shushes me, thumb brushing my cheek. “That was fucking amazing.”
I want to crawl out of my own skin. There’s slick everywhere, his cum leaking down my thighs, soaking into my panties, probably all over his jeans too. I can feel it, sticky and humiliating and somehow, impossibly, making me want to do it all over again.
He notices me squirming and grins, wicked. “Relax. I’m a tough boy. I can deal with wet underwear.”
I cover my face with my hands. “No, I mean…”
He cuts me off by kissing me again. His tongue slides against mine, and I melt, shame and panic dissolving into pure, sweet helplessness. When he finally breaks the kiss, he’s smiling at me.
“You’re perfect, Ash.”
