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Ye are easy
(Blakely)
His voice was deep and rumbling, the kind of voice that as Jess would say, vibrated my loins: How come ye are so beautiful?
I stretched and then nestled against Liam’s chest and then focused on what was happening between his legs: a full blown erection, epically tenting the bed-coverings. “Whoa nelly, Liam, that is majestic. Good morning to you, sir.”
His hand drifted between my legs. “Good morn tae ye as well, Madame.”
I pulled up the covers to look under them.
“Breathtaking, is that all for me?”
Liam chuckled. “Ye ken it is, and now ye hae seen it ye canna ignore it. Ye will hae tae properly acknowledge him or he will feel poorly.”
I wrapped my hand around the length of him and stroked him, “Holy cannoli, Liam, that is quite…” I kissed him, deeply, and his tongue filled my mouth with urgency and want and I climbed onto him and sat down and with my hand between my legs, I rode him while I brought myself closer and closer to climax. He held on, his hands on my hips, directing me up and down, moaning with pleasure and desire — he gasped, “Wait, Woodshee,” and held my hips above him.
He jerked his head back so I would lean over, to kiss him and oh my... we kissed, my tongue searching, licking and teasing, until he was totally gone wild for me, desperate... “Daena move,” he left my hips hovering above him, and put his hands on my breasts, bringing me roaring to a climax.
I sat down on him deeply, my body contracting with waves of pleasure, drawing him in, further and further, panting and gasping he plowed up into me until he came too, and then I collapsed down on him. “Phew, Liam, that was freaking… wow.”
I sighed. “Wow.” I rolled off to lie beside him, my legs splayed out, totally satiated. He took my hand and there was a great deal of intimacy there, how our hands were clasped, our fingers entwined. I raised his fingers to my mouth and kissed them.
And clutched them to my chest and sighed again.
Then I rolled onto my side. “Here’s the thing about me, Liam, I get chatty after sex. I try not to, my ex said it was one of the worst things about me, so I do try not to be, but I do. And it’s okay if you think it sucks. I didn’t say that about my ex so that you would never be able to be irritated about it. You can be, you can tell me to wheesht, but I just wanted you to know, to be aware that I know, I talk a lot post-coitus.”
He chuckled. “Ye ken, Woodshee, if ye fuck me like that ye can say anythin’ ye want.”
I grinned. “I really like you.”
“I like ye too.”
“You know, last night, you asked me to marry you.”
He groaned, then said, slowly. “I remember. In my defense, ye enticed me, I haena any control. I meant tae be much more cool than that, daena hold it against me.”
“I would never hold it against you. And what do you mean by cool? Like temperature-wise, like — not so hot for me? Or cool like the kind of man who wears ‘hats down by the jazz club’ cool?”
“Och, I am so hot for you, I canna no’ be hot for ye. Ye ken, I daena want tae seem weak.”
“Oh, are you saying that marrying me would be a weakness?”
“Telling ye I want tae marry ye post-orgasm on our first date, aye.”
I giggled. “When you put it that way... but I will tell you what, that whole appearing in a tux at my event and stealing my breath away, sitting all cocky like you did last night in your tux, fucking me into oblivion not once but twice, none of it was weakness. I think you are all just super-hotness.”
He grinned. “Ye are easy, Woodshee. How come I can prove m’worth with a fine suit? This is a low bar ye hae set.”
I sighed. “Do you know how nice it is to have you call me easy? I am going through this horrible divorce where everything I say is deemed ‘being difficult’ or ‘caustic’.”
He scowled dramatically. “Och nae, I ought tae hae kicked his arse last night.”
I fanned myself. “If I had seen you beat my ex’s ass while wearing a tux I probably would have asked you to marry me, but I am not condoning violence. I honestly don’t want you to kick his ass. I know how it would go, you don’t need to prove it.”
“Good, I winna. But I want tae go on the record as sayin’ he would deserve it, Woodshee. And also, ye ken, ye are easy. Ye eased intae m’heart with yer pink backpack and the twig in yer hair, with yer late-night phone-call about the bear. I couldna resist ye. It has been easy tae love ye. He is an arse.”
“So did you mean it? It's not a weakness, at all — you want to marry me?”
