Page 89 of My Family

I lean over him, mouth at his ear.

"You're doing so good," I whisper. "You want more?"

He nods frantically, and I keep going, slow and patient and careful. He's breathing hard now, hips rocking back to meet my hand, and then I reach around and stroke him at the same time.

His body reacts instantly.

He bucks against my hand, a broken little sound escaping him.

Liam's face is buried in the pillow, but I can see the flush climbing up his ears and the back of his neck, the way his shoulder blades shudder with every breath. He's so fucking beautiful like this: raw, undone, nothing to hide.

I keep going because I know what he wants. I press deeper with my fingers and he bites down on the pillow, a strangled sound leaking out anyway. His hips start moving on their own, desperate, needy, and when my grip tightens around him, he whines, high and helpless.

"Fuck," he gasps. "Ethan, I… fuck…"

I don't stop.

I want to see him lose it.

I keep working him while my other hand moves faster, and it's barely another couple of strokes before he comes, shuddering so hard I have to steady him with my arm. His legs kick out, his body arching off the bed before he collapses again, breathing raggedly into the pillow.

I withdraw my hand carefully and reach for one of the towels we'd left on the nightstand, cleaning myself off before curling around him from behind.

My face presses into the back of his neck.

I kiss the soft skin there until he stops shaking.

We stay like that for a little while.

Eventually, he rolls over to face me.

"You're good at that," he says, voice hoarse.

I laugh into his shoulder. "Only because I like you."

He snorts. "You don't even like people."

"Exactly."

"Now it's my turn."

Liam's eyes glint, animal-bright, and he straddles my thighs, hands already working at my belt. He gets my khakis open in seconds, shoving them and my underwear down with frantic, greedy focus.

I'm already hard, sticky with pre, and the look he gives me is hungry.

He leans down and licks a slow stripe up the underside, tongue hot, and I have to grip the headboard to keep from bucking up into him and ruining the moment.

He laughs, lips wet, and wraps one hand around the base, the other braced against my hip like he's holding me still.

Then his mouth is on me, warm and wet, taking me deep.

I can't fucking breathe.

I watch his head move, black hair falling into his eyes, flush high on his cheeks, and it's obscene how good he is at this. He's not shy about the noises either. He hums around me, and the vibration goes straight down my spine.

Every time he pulls off to catch his breath, he looks up at me with those blue eyes, daring me to say something, to break first.

I don't.