Our bare chests meet, skin on skin, and the contact is electric. A jolt passes between us, so potent it makes my head spin.
She looks up at me, her green eyes dark with a mix of fear and desire, her lips swollen from my kiss.
“I love you,” I repeat, my voice a hoarse whisper against her skin. I have to say it. I need her to hear it.
Tears slide silently down her temples, tracing paths into her hair. She pulls my head down, kissing me again, and this time, there’s no hesitation. There’s only need. A raw, desperate need that mirrors my own.
Our tongues meet, a slow, sensual dance that quickly deepens into something frantic. My hands roam her body, relearning every curve, every dip. I unbutton her jeans, my knuckles brushing against the soft skin of her stomach. She lifts her hips, helping me pull them down, along with her panties.
I kneel between her legs, my breath catching in my throat at the sight of her. She’s beautiful, all soft curves and glistening skin. I can smell her arousal, a sweet, intoxicating scent that goes straight to my head, to my cock.
I run a finger through her folds, and she’s so fucking wet, so slick and ready for me. Her back arches off the sofa, a soft cry falling from her lips as I circle her clit.
“Liam,” she gasps.
I can’t wait any longer. I need to be inside her. I quickly shed my own jeans and boxers, my cock springing free, hard and aching. I position myself at her entrance, the head brushing against her slick heat.
“Look at me,” I command, my voice rough.
Her eyes, hazy with desire, meet mine. I push forward, sinking into her in one slow, deep stroke. The feeling is incredible. She’s so tight, so warm, a perfect, velvet fist that clenches around me. A groan is torn from my throat.
I start to move, my pace slow at first, almost reverent. I watch her face, the way her eyes flutter closed, the way her lips part on a silent moan. But the Alpha in me is snarling, demanding more.
The need to claim her, to mark her as mine, is overwhelming. My pace quickens, my thrusts becoming harder, deeper. The sound of our bodies slapping together fills the room, mingling with the sound of the rain and our frantic breaths.
Her hands grip my shoulders, her nails digging into my skin. “Yes,” she cries out. “Oh, god, yes.”
I can feel her getting close, her inner muscles starting to flutter around my cock. I reach down between us, my thumb finding her clit, rubbing tight, hard circles.
That’s all it takes.
Her back bows off the sofa, a scream tearing from her throat as her orgasm crashes through her. Her pussy clamps down onme, milking my shaft, and it takes everything I have not to come right then and there.
As she comes down from her high, I feel the base of my cock begin to swell. My knot. The primal instinct to lock us together, to ensure my seed takes, is a roaring fire in my blood. I know this is a mistake. I know we’re not ready for this. With a herculean effort of will, I start to pull out, intending to spill myself on her stomach.
“Liam, please,” she whimpers, her legs wrapping tighter around my waist, stopping me. Her eyes are wide, pleading. “Don’t pull out.”
The last thread of my control snaps. With a guttural roar, I thrust back into her, pushing my swelling knot inside her tight channel. The sensation is mind-blowing. It’s an intense, stretching pressure, a feeling of being locked together, of being completely and utterly one. The new, deeper stimulation sends her over the edge again, and she comes with a silent scream, her body shaking uncontrollably beneath me.
The sight of her lost in pleasure because of me, because of what I’m doing to her, is my undoing. I come, my cock pulsing, my release flooding her, marking her from the inside out. I collapse on top of her, my body shaking, my knot still locked deep within her, binding us together in the most primal way possible.
We lie there for a long time, our bodies tangled, our breathing slowly returning to normal. The rain beats against the window, a steady, soothing rhythm. I press a soft kiss to her sweat-dampened forehead.
“I love you,” I whisper again, the words a vow, a prayer, and a confession all in one. And I know, with a terrifying and exhilarating certainty, that nothing will ever be the same.
“Liam,” she whispers, my name a soft puff of air against my chest. The sound is a soothing balm on the raw, frantic energy still humming through my veins.
We’re still locked together, my knot heavy inside her, a primal claim that feels more right than anything I’ve ever known. I’m still half on top of her, my weight supported on my elbows, my body a cage of warmth and protection around her.
I lower my head, capturing her lips in a kiss that’s slow and deep. It’s not like the frantic, desperate kisses from before. This one is different. It’s a conversation, a promise. It tastes of salt and tears and a future I’m suddenly desperate to have.
Her lips part beneath mine, a soft sigh escaping as I deepen the kiss, my tongue stroking against hers. I can feel her body relax into mine, a soft, boneless surrender that makes my chest ache with a fierce love.
I start to move again, a slow, gentle rocking of my hips. The movement is slight, but with my knot locked inside her, the stimulation is intense. A sharp gasp is torn from her lips, her back arching slightly.
I want to feel her come again. I want to feel her pussy clench around my knot, to milk every last drop of pleasure from her body while I’m still buried deep inside.
My hand moves between us, my fingers finding her clit, already swollen and sensitive from her previous orgasm. I rub slow circles, matching the pace of my hips. Her breath hitches, her hands coming up to grip my biceps, her nails digging into my skin.
