by S. Cook
I wanted more.
Liam seemed to sense my urgency, but instead of giving into me, he stroked my face with the palms of his hands. His touch was controlled, his movements patient, as if he was trying to ease the desperation from my body with soft touches.
I didn’t want to be consoled. I wanted him to make love to me. I held him closer, sucking at his tongue, nibbling his lower lip, licking inside his mouth.
“Whoa,” he said with a gasp.
His hips urged forward as if of their own will, and I groaned with pleasure as he rubbed right against my clit.
“Shit, that feels good,” I said. “Do it again.”
He did, his expression one I couldn’t read. It was either pain or extreme pleasure. One hand went down to grab my ass, pushing the stretchy spandex of my bikini bottom aside easily.
He cupped me, his fingers kneaded my flesh. His lips parted. His pupils were dilated with pleasure—or maybe from the lack of light. I didn’t care. My mind was only on one thing.
“Liam,” I gasped.
Instinctively, my hand went down to the waistband of his swim trunks. They attacked the ties there, the Velcro of the waistband, dug through the fabric.
When I found his cock, it was rock hard and burning. He was so aroused that my fingers barely reached all the way around the shaft.
When I stroked up and down, his head dropped back and his throat rippled. A groan escaped him. I rubbed the pad of my thumb over the sensitive part on his head I knew he would like. His hand tightened on my ass, the grip almost painful.
I used his cock to rub against my mound like a dildo, the head touching my clit over the spandex of my bikini. He looked down, but the image was blurred by the water. When I met his eyes, I knew immediately where the night was going to lead.
“I’ve always wanted to do it in a pool,” I blurted.
He groaned. “Me too.” His face grew serious. “I don’t have any condoms on me.”
I was almost tempted to say fuck the condoms and that he could fuck me without them. I was on the pill anyway. But I wasn’t completely stupid. Just super aroused.
“My apartment, or yours?” I asked instead.
His arms hooked under my ass. He carried me to the steps at the edge of the pool and lifted me out of the water.
“Mine,” he said.
We barely made it to his apartment. He grabbed our towels and tossed them over my shoulders without stopping to dry us. I made an attempt to wipe at his shoulders and chest, but it was more to touch him than anything else.
Our mouths were connected almost the entire way, our kiss only breaking when he had to open the pool gate and when we reached the hallway to the elevator.
Inside, he pressed me against one wall, using his hips and body to hold me where he wanted me. His hands roamed freely, leaving soft imprints on the flesh of my waist and ass and breasts.
When we reached our floor, I practically shouted with relief. He set me down briefly so we could walk faster. I had no idea how he got the door opened or if it was even locked.
But then—thank God—we were finally in his apartment.
I had one second to take in his sparse, modern furniture. His décor was simpler than mine, his furniture minimalistic and unpretentious. Before I could comment on how nice the place was, he spun me around, and I was lost in another blissful kiss.
He pushed me back and urged me into his bedroom, which was dark with the drapes drawn. The window was open and I could hear the cars pass outside the building.
All sounds and awareness of the world were soon drowned out as he pushed me back onto the mattress. His body covered mine immediately, the weight of him a glorious feeling that sent shivers up and down my spine and all over my skin.
We were still damp from the pool, but the wetness seemed to add to my heightened sensitivity. I was hot all over, my skin flushed, my blood boiling.
Liam didn’t seem to find our wet bathing suits too appealing. He reached for the tie at the back of my neck and tugged on the bikini string there. When my bikini was loose, he peeled the clinging spandex away from my body, revealing my large, rosy-tipped breasts to his view.
He took a moment to let his eyes roam over me. I fought the urge to cover myself with my hands. Even though it was dark in the room, I knew he could see me and was observing every inch of my body. His mouth was slightly parted and his breath staggered as he gazed at me.
“You’re gorgeous,” he said finally.
His hand covered one breast, still damp and cold from the wet bathing suit. The heat of his palm felt blissfully warm on my cold skin, and I squirmed from the pleasure that ran through my body at the touch.
He cupped my breasts with both hands, rubbing them gently to smooth away the water droplets that clung to me. His thumbs flicked my nipples. My hips bucked. When his head dipped and he took one nipple in his mouth, I shrieked.
The pleasure was so acute a sharp sensation shot into my belly. My clit pulsed. I was dripping wet by now, and it had nothing to do with the pool.
He turned his attention to my other nipple, and I couldn’t keep my eyes open any longer. One hand gripped the bed sheets, the other dug into his hair. I wasn’t sure if I was trying to keep him at my breast or pull him away. I just knew that if he didn’t stop soon, I was going to explode into a million pieces.
“Liam,” I said, just to warn him. “You should probably stop.”
“Why?”
“Because...” I groaned.
I didn’t know why. What he did was overwhelming and I didn’t know how much longer I would be able to take it. I was one of the lucky women who could orgasm just from having my nipples played with—and while I usually enjoyed those orgasms, I wanted my moment with Liam to last longer than that.
“Hell no, I’m not stopping.”
He lapped and sucked at my nipples. I shrieked at the ceiling.
“I could kiss these breasts all day. They’re fucking beautiful.”
“God,” I gasped. “That feels so good.”
“So why do you want me to stop?”
“I...don’t know.” I couldn’t tell him I was so close already. He had enough of an ego and didn’t exactly need a boost from my naturally active libido. Then again, it had never been like this with anyone else, not even Bryan. This was intense, like nothing I’d ever experienced. And I knew it was all because of Liam, of what he was doing to me.
My hips lifted, rubbing against him.
“On second thought,” Liam said in a strained voice.
He moved down the length of my body, thankfully leaving my breasts alone.
I breathed a sigh of relief. I was only one tongue flick away from climaxing.
“I think there are other parts of your body I’m neglecting.”
He pressed soft kisses into my stomach, stopping at my belly button to lick inside. I’d never had that done before, and the small flick made me jump just a bit.
“Whoa,” I breathed.
“You like that?”
“I’m not sure.”
He grinned up at me, then lowered his head and licked inside my belly button again. My hips jerked involuntarily. He chuckled at my reaction, then moved further down. Fingers dipped beneath the waistband of my bikini bottom and tugged. He removed the rest of my bathing suit smoothly, standing up in the process to drag the spandex from my legs. He took a moment to examine my exposed body, the expression on his face smug and triumphant.
I felt self-conscious under his exploring gaze, but the way he whistled appreciatively banished any sense of insecurity.
“Damn, girl. I knew you looked hot in your bikini, but you look even better naked.”
I blushed. “What a cheesy line,” I said sarcastically, even though I felt a pleasant shiver from his words. “Do you get all your compliments from the douchebag handbook?”
He untied his swim trunks and pushed them down, giving me a full view of my own. I was mesmerized by his cock, which was so hard that it nearly touched his
stomach. A small dot of moisture glistened on his tip. My throat closed up and my mouth went dry.
Liam climbed back onto the bed and fitted his body next to mine. We lay on our sides, gazing at each other. One of his hands came to stroke up and down the side of my body, his fingertips barely grazing as if he was deliberately teasing my sensitive nerves.
“You really are gorgeous, Misty,” he said, letting his hand settle on my hip.
“You didn’t seem to think so the night I gave you cookies.” I flicked a strand of hair over my shoulder. “I was all dressed up and everything and you didn’t even give me a second glance.”
“Oh, I took more than a second glance.” He kissed me. “I was just subtle about it. But trust me, it was all I could do not to invite you into my place.”
I tried not to feel pleased at his words. “Why didn’t you?”
He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “I would have, except it was a total mess since I’d just moved in. Couldn’t really impress you with no electricity, water, or a bed.” He frowned. “Besides, your friend was obviously listening to us and I’m not one for voyeurism.”
“She was listening, not watching.”
He wrapped his arms around me in a possessive gesture. “When I sleep with you, I want you all to myself. Not with someone watching or listening, not with your dates hanging out in the hallway, or your mind on someone else.” He cupped my face and angled it so I had to look directly into his eyes. “Understand?”
I touched his chest, enjoying the feel of him under my palm. His eyes widened when I pushed him onto his back and climbed over his body. My legs straddled either side of his hips, his cock meeting the juncture of my thighs in a wet slide. I rocked back and forth, delighting in the feel of my slickness against his hard ridge.
“I understand,” I whispered, smiling coyly.
“Damn, woman,” he burst out.
His fingers moved from my thighs to my hips, barely touching me, but managing to spread heat across my skin with just the slightest caress. I shivered when his fingers traced my lips lightly.
“You’re so wet.”
I allowed him to explore me. He used both hands, his fingers spreading my lips, touching the swollen flesh with a sense of reverence. His eyes were lidded, giving him a half-drunken look that made me feel womanly and wanted. I squirmed a bit when he inserted a finger inside me. Then he withdrew his finger, easing my wetness onto my clit and using his thumb to circle the focus of all my pleasure.
I moaned, the sound muffled through my teeth and lower lip. I closed my eyes, nearly bucking when he inserted two fingers inside me while his thumb continued to pleasure my clit.
Soon, I couldn’t control the movement of my hips. I rocked back and forth, meeting the rhythm of his fingers as he stroked in and out of me. My throat made small noises of pleasure, no matter how I tried to keep them inside.
Liam seemed drunk or high, or both, as he continued to pleasure me. His eyes never left my face, measuring my reaction and discovering what I liked. Those damn fingers of his worked me skillfully, until I felt all the nerves and tension in my body gather in one area. And, suddenly, pleasure exploded from my pussy into my stomach and down to my toes. I cried out, arched my back and let the orgasm take control of my body.
When the spasms started to dissipate, Liam reached over to the bedside table to take out a condom. I snatched it from his fingers, tore the foil with my teeth, and rolled the rubber over his cock. It fit snuggly and was almost too small for his large size.
He didn’t give me a moment to reconsider what we were about to do. His hands gripped my hips, lifting me until I was hovering right over his cock, and then he urged my hips up. He entered me in one slick move and I gasped again, on the edge of another orgasm.
If he had just flicked his thumb over my clit or pinched my nipple right at that second, I would have screamed his name and made sure our neighbors knew all about his sexual expertise.
He pushed as deep inside of me as he could, and I was almost overwhelmed by the feeling of being completely filled. It was so pleasurable, so good, that I could only close my eyes and ride out the sensations, hoping I would come out alive.
I began to move, urged on by the pressure of his hands gripping my waist. I was more than happy to follow the rhythm he set, my mind so lost to the pleasure that I could barely think. He was so large, his cock so deep that it felt as if I could feel him in every part of me, as if his body was made to pleasure mine.
His hands flew to cup my breasts, and I clenched my eyes tight. His thumbs flicked over my nipples, and a jolt of pleasure shot through my belly to my pussy. He did it again and again as I bounced over him. There was a break in our rhythm when his cock twitched inside me. I knew he was close, and I was too.
He reached down then, his thumb playing with my clit. My eyes widened. He pinched my nipple with one hand, while the other one pinched my clit. And that was it. I was over the edge. Arching my back, I screamed my pleasure into the air.
Beneath me, Liam bucked his hips upward. His movements were panicked, urgent. A sound of pain or pleasure came from his mouth, and he froze, hips shoved against mine.
His cock pulsed and he came inside my pussy with such intensity that he almost bucked me off. His breathing came in fast pants. Beneath my hands, his heart felt like it was going to explode out of his chest. And then he collapsed back onto the bed.
“Damn,” he whispered. “I should have invited you in the day you gave me cookies after all.”
I smiled against his shoulder and closed my eyes.
Chapter Eight
The smell of coffee woke me. Dark roast, strong, and fragrant. I blinked awake and experienced the panic that I always felt when I slept at another person’s house.
Not a feeling I got often.
It took me a moment to remember that I hadn’t been kidnapped, that I was in fact there by choice.
I sat upright. One hand flew to the other side of the bed. It was empty.
My eyes narrowed.
How had I known?
The sound of a pan sizzling came from outside the room. Someone was cooking. It sounded like eggs.
I climbed out of bed. The sheets slipped off, reminding me that I was naked. Muscles that I didn’t use on a normal basis ached as I padded around the room, looking for my discarded clothes. I found my bikini, which was grossly damp. I was going to need more to cover me than that.
Glancing at the door, I wondered if Liam would mind if I wore one of his shirts instead.
Opening a dresser drawer, I tried not to feel like a creeper as I looked for a comfy t-shirt. I sifted through a few ties and boxers before I found a white cotton tee that I threw over my head.
In the kitchen, Liam was wearing boxers and nothing else. I stopped in the doorway to examine the tanned skin and muscular back that I hadn’t had a chance to look at in the dark last night.
He turned around and grinned at me.
“Nice shirt,” he said.
His eyes moved down the length of my legs. My nipples hardened. He didn’t miss it.
I tugged at the hem, which reached just below my ass. “What are you cooking?”
He blinked. “Have a seat and you’ll see soon enough.” His voice sounded hoarse. “You’re not allergic to anything, are you?”
I shook my head and sat at the barstool of his kitchen island, enjoying the view of a man cooking my breakfast. He seemed to know what he was doing as he moved about the kitchen.
Not that I knew much about the kitchen, only entering my own to get booze or because Tammy felt like baking.
“Did you sleep well?” he asked as he busied himself at the stove.
“When we weren’t busy, you mean?”
There was silence from him, but I imagined that he was grinning.
I pressed my lips together. “Yes, I slept well. Did you?”
He winked at me. “Only when we weren’t busy.”
He fixed me a cup of coffee when the machine
finished brewing. I sipped it and closed my eyes as I enjoyed the smell and flavor of the dark roast.
When he set the plate of steaming omelet in front of me, I suddenly realized how hungry I was. Neither of us spoke for several minutes as we dug into our breakfast.
“You’re a great cook,” I said after I had gobbled down enough to make me full for the rest of the week. “Is this what you do for a living?”
He laughed. “Maybe one day. Well, kind of, I guess. I own a café, but my job is mostly business development. My partner takes care of the rest. Dealing with customers, making sure everything runs smoothly.”
“Which café?”
“It’s called the Library.”
My eyes widened. “Oh!”
“Heard of it?” He seemed pleasantly surprised.
“It’s one of my favorite places.” I leaned forward, resting my folded hands on the counter. “I go there to work on the weekends when I don’t feel like being in the office. It’s a great place.”
He seemed more pleased with my simple compliment than he’d been last night after we had sex. I wasn’t sure I liked the comparison.
“Thanks,” he said.
“Do you cook the food there?”
“Sometimes, when I’m not busy.”
I smiled. “That’s so great.”
There was a long moment of silence as we poked at the scraps on our plates. I wondered whether it would be rude for me to leave now. I’d done the mandatory breakfast the morning after. But it felt awkward to leave only to just walk across the hall to my place.
The plus side was that my walk of shame would be all of ten steps.
I wasn’t even sure what I wanted last night to be.
Was it a one-night stand?
Did it count as a one-night stand if there was every chance we would run into each other again?
“Do you want to talk about what happened?” Liam said eventually.
I chewed on the inside of my cheek. A part of me already knew where this was headed. I just wasn’t sure I was ready to hear it. “Sure. Might as well get it out of the way.”
He didn’t seem to know how to start either. We both looked around the apartment, at everything but each other.
