I groan, clawing at his waistband, trying to free him. His cock juts out, proud and angry. “Finally.”
“Anything for my beautiful Thunder.”
I wish he didn’t say that, but I push that vulnerable thought to the side when he lines himself at my entrance.
He pushes in and stills, letting me adjust to his size. But it’s not his cock I need to adjust to. It’s our new reality. I might fight all I want, but there is a little human connecting us forever.
Liam brackets my head with his elbows and starts moving. Not with our typical reckless fervor.
His thrusts are slow, almost gentle. But they are not shallow by any means.
He’s claiming me with each move. He’s making promises I’m not ready for.
This is the first time in bed for us. First time like this, missionary. It should feel too vanilla for us, but the threat is far worse. The intimacy wraps around me without my consent.
“Harder,” I demand, to get us out of this lovemaking, back to the safety of what works.
He stops moving altogether. I hold his gaze, my hands on his chest, ready to push him away. But I don’t.
We just stare at each other, our bodies connected. Our future connected. It’s our hearts thatfight.
“Harder,” I repeat.
He shakes his head, closing his eyes.
I desperately want us to be us again. No, not us. Me and him… where all that is between us is raw temptation, unsated lust, carnal ties.
When he opens his eyes again, something flickers across his face, and everything shifts.
It’s like he offered me this nuanced connection, and I didn’t accept it, so he follows my wishes. Liam, the sex-god version, is back.
It shouldn’t disappoint me.
He pulls out and flips me around. “Hold on tight, Thunder,” he growls, lifting my ass and ramming into me.
For a beat, I miss the tenderness of the previous moment. A moment I didn’t want, and yet I grieve. Jesus, I’m so confused.
Soon, all thoughts leave me as Liam builds us both up to a frenzy. Familiar. Reckless. Safe.
The room fills with our moans and skin-slapping. My release catches me off guard. One minute, I’m trying to hold on for dear life, and the next, I’m clenching, spasming around him.
My entire body pulsates as a wave takes me to oblivion. And in that moment of losing myself, I also findsomething.
Something to give him. Something to tell him I’m not ready, but I will try.
“Liam, Liam, Liam,” his name rolls from my lips like a reverent chant.
The guttural sounds that rips from him is the most unexpected praise.
He continues his relentless tempo, prolonging my pleasure until he comes inside me with a roar.
He collapses on top of me, and we pant, coming down slowly.
“You’re heavy,” I groan.
“Shit.” He rolls over, and without thinking, I reach after him, finding a comfortable spot in the crook of his armpit.
We stay embraced like that, not talking, just testing this newly found or forced connection between us.
