“Liam,” she gasps as her body starts to vibrate and her legs begin to shake.
And just the sound of my name on her lips and the way her body is moving, I know I’ve got to stop. Now. Or else I’m going to go all the way. I just can’t do that. I can’t. I pull myself back, trying to put some distance between us, but she moves with me, and even when I get off the bed, she’s there, on her knees, then on all fours, and it’s the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. Her plump ass sways and her heavy tits swing in a way that makes my mouth water as she moves toward me, never taking her eyes off of my crotch. She’s got this hourglass figure that is so fucking hot, and all I can think of is pushing deep into her cushion.
“M-Maggie, we c-c-can’t…” But the words come out garbled and barely sound like words at all.
And then my brain completely misfires when she unzips my pants and wraps her hand around my shaft. She presses her lips to my tip playfully at first and then she darts out her tongue and licks me from tip to balls, her tongue pressed flat, using just enough pressure to make an impression.
I moan, my head lulling back, my eyes closed. Fuck, it feels so damn good. I should stop her, but I can’t.
“Liam,” she says, forcing me to look down at her.
Her eyebrow is cocked, and she smiles. Then she opens her mouth as wide as she can and slips my cock into her mouth. She’s wet and hot, and her tongue is firm against my dick, stroking as she slides me in deeper and deeper, taking me as far as she can without gagging.
Fuuuuuuuck!
I grip the sides of her head and pump a few times into her mouth. She moans around my dick so my flesh is vibrating. Nerve endings fire all over my body, and my cock pulses. Can it even get much better than this?
Yes…the answer is yes.
Because Maggie reaches up and gently cups my balls. My eyes roll back, my head, too. I can barely stand on my feet. Now I’m the one quivering. My legs feel like noodles. She’s working me up and down, back and forth with her mouth, her tongue pressing to my shaft, gliding to my tip, and I’m bucking, my balls are tight, I want my cum to hit the back of her throat, I want to fill her mouth. I don’t want it to stop. She rolls her mouth down again, wrapping her lips around my dick from the side so she can take my balls into her hot little mouth and stroke them with her tongue.
Holy. Fuck.
I can’t stop myself. I pull her head back so my sac falls out of her mouth. She licks her lips and looks up at me expectantly with such a sweet expression on her face.
And that is about all I can take.
I grip both her wrists in one hand and drag her backward, kicking my pants off and then climbing onto the bed after her as I lay her on her back, stretching her out so I can pin her down. I want to sink into her pretty little pussy so badly that it physically hurts to deny myself even for a few seconds.
I cup her breast and thumb her nipple. It beads, plumping to a rosy red. Her skin is so pale that the slightest thing makes the blood rise. She moans and arches into me, her hands moving up my chest, her nails digging into my shirt like she’s ready to tear it off of me.
I have to stop. Fuck. I shouldn’t be touching her like this.
“Maggie, we can’t do this. We have to stop,” I say, breathlessly and in between kissing her lips, her jaw, her throat.
“No,” she says. “We don’t.”
With a strength I didn’t even know I possessed, I push her back so I can meet her eyes. “Tell me to stop. Tell me to walk away,” I plead. “I’m no good for you.”
But she blinks up at me, her eyes bright and full of lust. She slowly opens her legs wider, rolling toward me as she shifts her hips closer so that my dick is right there, pressed against her entrance. I’m going to die, right here, right now.
“Not on your life. I’ve been wanting this to happen for the last four months.”
So have I.
I reach for my pants and the condom I slipped into my pocket. It takes me seconds to put it on. There’s no stopping this now. Not when her body is all pink and wet and ready, and she’s easing herself onto her back again, spreading her legs, looking up at me with her big green eyes and her mouth parted, her breasts rising and falling with each breath.
Fuuuuuck. I rip the rest of my clothes off and climb back onto the bed.
She wraps her legs around my waist and urges me closer. I grind in slow and steady, making sure my shaft glides along her clit as I stretch her out. She grips me tight, her sheath so hot and wet. It’s pulsing around my dick, milking me before I’m fully encased. Ahhhh, fuck…this feels like heaven. She’s so perfect that I could weep along with my cock.
Once I’m there, all the way in, my balls kissing her ass, I stop and look at her. Her head is thrown back; her eyes are closed.
I’m going to Hell.
And I know, I know, I’ll happily go if it means seeing her like this, just this once.
Because it’s only going to be once.
“Look at me,” I order.
And she does, she locks her eyes on mine, full of lust, full of want. I move then, thrusting hard, grinding her clit, making her moan as her orgasm rises. I don’t look away from her, not when my balls clench tight and my cum rises. I don’t look away because there is nothing that compares to watching Maggie’s orgasm lash through her body, making her body meld with mine. She makes this noise as her orgasm crests, a groan of lingering satisfaction, her pussy clenching me hard, sending me over the edge so I growl my release.
Even though my cum doesn’t actually spill inside of her, I know I’ve left my mark.
And she’s left hers in me. I’m so fucked.
We lay panting next to each other. Our bodies are slick with sweat. Our breathing is ragged.
“I really…”
I turn my head to look at her. She’s licking her lips like she’s parched, her eyes smiling just as wide as her lips are.
“Really liked that.”
I roll over and cup her jaw, bringing her lips to mine for a brief kiss. “Good, because I’m willing to do just about anything to keep that smile on your face.”
And I mean it. I will keep her satisfied for the rest of the weekend. Even though I failed so completely to keep my hands off of her, I scratched that itch and slaked that lust. That should keep me satisfied…I hope.
No, I’ve gotta do better than hope. I’ve got to keep my dick in my pants for the next couple of days, or I’ll never forgive myself for tarnishing the pure light that is Maggie with my darkness.
Chapter Nine
Maggie
Okay, so I’m glowing, I’m sure of it. I must be because my body is tingling and I feel like I could float; the butterflies in my stomach are all fluttering like crazy with post-amazing-sex satisfaction. And what’s even better is that I’m holding Liam’s hand as we make our way down to the lake, and it feels so damn right.
We’re skipping the next event. My call. Even though I know that my sisters will be pissy about it, the next event is one that they’re running, and it’s some kind of sailing workshop. It sounded boring when they first described it to me months ago, and now all I really want to do is hang out with Liam and talk.
“Will we get caught down here?” Liam asks as we walk onto the smaller of the docks.
“No, that’s the weird thing. My sisters aren’t actually going to take anyone sailing. Too dangerous, they said. They just want to show off all of their superior boating knowledge to a captive audience.”
Liam chuckles, and we both get busy taking off our shoes and socks so we can dangle our feet in the water.
“Ohhhh,” I hiss as my toes hit the lake. “That’s cold!”
“You want to know the secret to warming a lake up?” He eases his feet in, wincing when the temperature hits him.
“Pee in it?” I laugh.
“That’s one way, I guess, bu
t growing up with three brothers, I learned that worse than pee is gas. My brothers could let them rip something awful, and underwater they form this bubble and if you’re in the wrong place at the wrong time, poof, you’re inhaling a lot of bad air. It sure is warm, though.”
“Sounds like you and your brothers had some good times.” I’m smiling at the thought of Liam as a small child.
“We did.” He’s smiling, and I reach over to touch his dimple.
“I like seeing that there,” I say. “It looks good on you.” And I bet that dimple was a killer when he was little. He probably got away with a bunch of stuff because of it.
He pulls my hand away from his face, squeezing lightly as he sets it on my lap. The dimple is gone, but I can still see a quirk to his lips. “Your sisters didn’t do anything gross like that to you?”
“Gross? No, not really. Mortifying, yes.” I can see little minnows darting around the dock, so I move my feet to swirl the water a bit. “They liked to dress me up, put makeup on me, experiment with different looks. There was one time that I’d been cast as the clock from Beauty and the Beast, where Charlotte convinced my mom to let her do my costume instead of letting my dad do the construction. She insisted that she could make me into the most authentic-looking clock there ever was. Of course Mom agreed and Dad was all for it, anything that would keep him from having to do any kind of artistic anything.”
I can laugh at the memory now, but at the time I remember having such anxiety over Charlotte’s plans. She’d been taking a sewing and design course for fun that hadn’t produced anything wearable since the get go, and so even at the age of seven, I was skeptical of what she could actually do.
“She spent weeks working on this costume, took measurements of me, assured me that I’d be able to move around and dance, because, you know, clocks dance in that play. She wouldn’t let me see the actual costume until the night of the performance, and I was so worried that she wouldn’t have something for me. So when the day actually came and it was time to get ready, she pulled out this dark brown paint, which she assured my mother was skin friendly and washable and proceeded to lather me up in it. Then she pulled out this felt and cotton fabric costume of a clock. I mean, it looked fine laid out on the ground, but when she put it on me, the felt actually stuck to the paint, and the entire ensemble made me look…” I laugh at the memory, how mortified I’d been when I saw myself in the mirror. “Well, as my dad said, ‘Jesus, Charlotte, you made her look like a giant penis.’”
“You’re kidding.” Liam is laughing now, like full-on belly-gripping laugh. I think I see tears in his eyes. “Are there pictures?”
I shove his arm, and he sways to the side, still laughing. “I’m sure you made a very cute penis.”
“Ha ha, yeah, well, I’ll have you know that after that happened, I had a really unpleasant nickname.”
“I don’t know if I should ask.” He chuckles softly. “Did the paint come off?”
“Not easily. My dad had to use turpentine, and even then I had a brown, over-tanned look for a few weeks. Didn’t help the nickname situation any.”
“Kids are cruel,” he says. “Why didn’t you just tell her you didn’t want to wear it?”
“Oh, I couldn’t do that to Char. She worked so hard on it, and I know she meant well. I didn’t want her to think that I didn’t appreciate it, and besides, the teasing only lasted until Jimmy Marlow got caught picking his nose and eating it.” I smile. “No more Cocksworth for me.”
“Cocksworth?” He’s laughing again. “That’s what they called you?”
“The clock in the play is named Cogsworth, but some older kids thought it was clever to change it to, well…”
He cracks up. “I hope Charlotte at least felt bad.”
“I’m sure she did. I mean, she stopped doing the sewing projects and switched to debate club after that. I got over it, and my classmates forgot all about it. But still, the whole ordeal was traumatizing.”
“I bet.” He sighs. “Sounds like you were always making sure your sisters felt supported, even at the expense of yourself.”
“I guess I did do that. It’s no big deal, really. I was just so little, and I wanted everyone to be happy.”
“Getting to know you better is making me realize even more that you’re pretty extraordinary.”
My cheeks heat, and I rest my cheek on his shoulder. “So…you used to go to a lake with your family?”
He knows I’m diverting, but he doesn’t give me a hard time about it. “Before Mom died, we did.”
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”
“No, don’t be sorry. I like talking about her. I don’t get to do that much anymore.” He sucks in a deep breath then lets it out slowly. “We used to go Clear Pond Park in the summer on the weekend when we could. Mom loved it there. She’d pack us a big picnic lunch and get us all into the car. Even Dad, who hated leaving the city, would get caught up in her excitement. We’d take all the inflatable things we could find in the garage and stuff the back of the car with as many as we could. Mom would read on the beach, soak up the sun, and she’d just smile, all damn day. Nothing could ruin her mood on beach days.”
I smile. “I always loved those kinds of days. When everyone got along just because it was so rare and special to be somewhere different.”
“That’s exactly what it was like. We’d play all day in the water. Dad would even come in and toss a ball to us. We’d fill our bellies with so much junk food, and Mom would insist that we all get ice cream cones for the drive home.” He rubs his hand through his hair, and I look up to see that his smile is gone and he’s looking a little lost. “Those were great days.” He sighs. “But Mom got sick, and we found out that the cancer was pretty much through her body by the time that the doctors figured out what was wrong.”
“I’m so sorry, Liam. How old were you?”
“Ten.” He looks down at me, sadness in his eyes. “Everything changed after that.”
“What happ—”
“There you two are!” Amelia’s loud voice has me whipping my head around so fast that I tip forward. Liam puts his arm out to cage me in so I don’t fall off the dock completely. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
“I sent you a text.”
Liam is already up and has a hand out to help me stand.
“You missed our workshop.” Amelia walks briskly onto the dock. “Mom has been fretting over where you two are.”
Fretting? Does Amelia even realize how much like our mother she sounds? “I said, I sent you a text. Liam and I wanted some time alone.”
“Well, we have an appointment at the spa at eleven, and Mom wants you there.”
“The spa? That wasn’t on the agenda.”
Liam starts putting on his socks and shoes.
“Yeah, I know, but almost everyone else is going out for a hike, so Mom booked us some time together.” She glances at Liam. “You don’t have to come if you don’t want. A few of the others have gone up to their rooms to rest.”
“Amelia!” I snap. “Could you be any ruder?”
“That’s not how I meant it. Liam, you’re welcome, of course.” Amelia rolls her eyes. “Just don’t be late, okay?” She turns and starts to walk away.
“Amelia, wait!” I turn to Liam. “Give me a sec, okay?”
I rush off after Amelia and catch up to her just at the base of the trail that leads back to the resort. I don’t normally confront Amelia about anything, but right now I’m pissed.
She turns to face me, arms crossed and a look of pure impatience firmly in place.
“What’s your actual problem? You’re being so rude to Liam.”
Her eyes shutter, hiding whatever she’s feeling. “I didn’t mean to be, but I’ve already explained to you what the expectations are for this weekend. You know how important this is to Mom. Now, you’ve
got this guy here, and he’s messing a lot of things up.”
I gape at her. “How?”
“Maggie, he’s got you acting completely differently. You’re sneaking off and doing things.” She rolls her eyes. “You’re blowing off family activities. This weekend isn’t about you hanging out with your ‘boyfriend,’ you know.”
The air quotes piss me off, but my first thought is that she’s missing the easy target I’ve always been as “poor, lonely little Maggie.” But then her words sink in. Have I been neglecting my family? I frown, suddenly feeling guilty for not going to her sailing workshop. “I just wanted to spend some time with him.”
Something in my voice makes her eyes soften, and she drops her arms to her sides. “I get that you’re happy to have someone to be with, but don’t forget about us. We’re your family.”
And he’s not. Which is true, but that doesn’t stop the little pang of longing in my chest. “Of course you are. And I know this weekend is important. We’ll be at the spa appointment on time, promise. It’s a perfect way for you to get to know Liam better, so thanks for including him.”
Amelia’s jaw does this clenching thing like when she’s only kind of getting her way. I know she wants me to send Liam to our room, but I’m not going to. I want him at the spa with me.
By the time I make it back to the dock, my feet are dry.
He hands me my socks. “Well, then.”
“So, I’ll totally understand if you don’t want to endure that for another hour.”
“Is she going to be rolling her eyes at you like that all day?” He holds my arm as I slip my socks then shoes back on. “I mean, what’s her problem, anyway?”
“She was miffed earlier when she thought we had sex in the forest. Her bad mood probably has been building since then.” I get it. Appearances are everything to my mom, and to my sisters, too. They don’t want me to embarrass them with the things I might be doing with Liam.
He laughs. “She thinks we had sex in the woods?”
Keep Me Wanting Page 9
