Page 60 of Carving Graves


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“Carver, eyes on me.”

I comply with a slow exhale.

Never let them see.

He sees it anyway.

“Tell me,” he pleads. “Tell me what you want, and I promise I’ll deliver.”

Play their game.

Tonight, I don’t want to. I just want him.

“You’re so fucking stubborn.” He smirks, but he’s wearing down—the impending rapture too much to fight. “You’ll deny yourself just to spite me, huh?”

He’s so close to cracking. I can feel it, but I’d rather feel him.

Always keep them guessing.

“No,” I squeak. “I can’t. Please, Liam. Please. I need you to fuck me.”

He thrusts inside me so forcefully that I scream, but it’s the best feeling I’ve ever had. His movements are so fluid and fast; he’s like a damn superhero, hovering over me, slinging my ankles onto his shoulders, bending me in half, and cocooning me in his embrace, like he’s sheltering something precious while simultaneously destroying it.

“Fuck, baby,” he hisses. “Look at you, taking my cock so well. So goddamn tight.”

This angle has him both hitting the perfect spot inside and assaulting my clit at once. The aching of the tumultuous buildup churns into a raging tempest, thundering through my veins and nerve endings. Burrowing into my bones with a fiery squall that heats my muscles and skin, fingers and toes. Everything disappears—past and future. Pressures and expectations.

It’s only us.

With my eyes locked on to his, my hands holding his scruffy face, my back bowed so that we’re pressed into one—no me without him—the storm is unleashed.

“That’s my good girl. Give it to me, Ace.”

A euphoric tornado that spins everything I thought I knew into a wreckage of upside right and blacked-out bliss. My only vision, the moldavite haze engulfing me.

“Jesus, Liam.”

“Don’t stop, baby. Keep coming for me. You’ve got more.”

He’s right. It’s without an end—an electric seizing that sizzles and jolts with an all-consuming frisson.

He pumps and thrusts, cradles and praises.

I unravel and pant, clutch and become.

When I’m all tapped out, he lifts my limp body and slams into me with his own typhoon of tempestuous lust, his sentiments the measure of his cadence. “You’re a fucking fantasy, Ace. Most breathtaking sight I’ve ever seen. So goddamn perfect. Mine.”

His.

Just when I think he’s going to surrender to his own release, he pulls out, flips me over, and enters me from behind. “Let’s get you one more now, baby girl.”

Thrust.

“Just the beginning though.”

A smack on my pulsing clit.

“I promise a whole night full of stars.”

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