There was that hint of reverence in his tone again, like he wanted that more than anything in the world.
He pulled almost all the way out—slowly, so I felt the drag of him against every sensitive nerve ending—then slammed back in hard enough to make the headboard crack against the wall. His hand gathered my hair, wrapping it around his fist, and pulled. Not hard enough to hurt. Justenough to arch my back and expose my throat, changing the angle so he sank even deeper on the next thrust.
Oh fuck, it felt so good. Even better than I’d imagined. My core was already tightening again.
“You’re mine, Ava.” His voice was rough, raw, as he fucked me with long, hard strokes that I felt everywhere. “Say it.”
“I’m yours.”
“Again.” He pulled my hair tighter, his other hand gripping my hip as his thrusts picked up like he was truly trying to own me, body and soul.
“I’m yours, Liam.” The words came out broken, shattered by the pleasure tearing through me with every thrust.
“That’s right.” He bent over me, his chest hot and slick against my back, his mouth at my ear. “This pussy is mine. These sounds are mine. You—” Another devastating thrust that made stars cross my vision. “Are mine.”
Some distant part of my brain registered that he was giving me what I’d asked for—the hair pulling, the claiming, the dirty words. But it didn’t feel like he was performing. It felt like he was confessing. Like the words had been locked somewhere inside him and this was the only way he knew how to let them out.
His pace turned relentless—deep, punishing strokes that had me fisting the sheets and moaning into the pillow as he took my body to new heights it had never gone before. The sound of his hips slamming against my ass was obscene, mixing with the wet, slick noises of him driving into me over and over. His hand released my hair and snaked between my legs to find my clit, rubbing tight, fast circles that had me careening toward the edge.
“Come with me,” he said, his voice strained, his rhythm starting to fracture. “Ava—fuck—come with me.”
I shattered, and this time I screamed his name into the pillow—my orgasm ripping through me in violent, pulsing waves, my inner walls clamping down on him so hard he swore. Behind me, Liam buried himself to the hilt and went rigid, a guttural groan tearing from his chest.
“Ava.” My name came out like it was being ripped from somewhere deep inside him. “Ava, fuck—” His hips jerked against me, once, twice, three times, each thrust punctuated by a hoarse sound that made my core clench around him all over again as he spilled inside the condom.
We collapsed together, his weight warm and heavy on my back, both of us breathing like we’d sprinted a mile. After a moment, he rolled to the side, pulling me against his chest.
“You okay?” he murmured into my hair.
“So much better than okay.” I was so far past okay that the word didn’t cover it. My body was liquid, my mind was mush, and my heart was soaring.
He pressed a kiss to my temple and went to deal with the condom. When he came back, he climbed in beside me and pulled the covers over us both.
“Stay,” I whispered before I could stop myself.
His arm tightened around me. “Wasn’t planning on going anywhere.”
I pressed my face into his chest, breathing him in, and let myself have this—the warmth of him, the steady beat of his heart, the weight of his arm around my waist. These were the moments that would destroy me when this ended.
I fell asleep tucked against him, safer than I’d felt in years.
I woke to the feel of Liam thrusting his hard cock between my thighs, coating it in my slickness, like he couldn’t help himself.
The room was pitch dark, the fairy lights having been turned off at some point while I’d slept, and for a disoriented moment I didn’t know where I was. Then Liam’s mouth pressed against the nape of my neck, his hard cock moving back and forth, but not inside just yet. A low groan escaped his throat.
“Liam?” My voice was thick with sleep, barely a whisper.
“Shh.” His hand slid between my thighs, fingers stroking through the wetness that had gathered even in sleep—my body’s Pavlovian response to his proximity—before rubbing soft circles over my clit. “I need to be inside you again, Sunshine.”
The words were guttural, almost pained, like he’d been lying beside me fighting this and had lost.
This was the fantasy I’d barely let myself think about, let alone say out loud. And here he was, already making it even better than I’d imagined.
“Yes,” I said, the word barely a whisper, but still carrying a hint of begging. I was already wetter just at the thought of it.
He pulled back long enough to pull on a condom and then his cock was pressing into my soaked center from behind, slow but insistent. When he pushed fully inside, my mouth fell open in a silent gasp. The stretch felt different like this—tighter, more intense, every nerveending lit up from the hours of use and still desperate for more.
“Always so fucking good.” His voice was ragged against my ear, one arm banding around my waist to hold my back flush against his chest while he sank deeper, deeper, until he bottomed out and I could feel his hips pressed against my ass. “So warm and wet and fucking perfect. Best pussy I’ve ever had. Fuck—” He rocked his hips, grinding into me, and the fullness of him at this angle made my eyes flutter shut. “Can’t get enough.”
