Page 87 of Strictly Pleasure


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I like him. Too much. But I’ll just have to come to terms with that. And to distract myself from that thought, I stand and pull off my towel until I’m naked in front of him.

“Fuck.” His eyes roam my body, and suddenly it’s me who feels like a god. “You really don’t want me to get any sleep tonight, do you?” He walks toward me, his eyes dark, his jaw tight, then to my surprise he drops to his knees.

And breathes me in.

“You’re bare.” His voice is a strangled whisper as his nose presses against the apex of my legs.

“Yes,” I tell him. “For you.”

“Jesus.” He inhales me again, and it doesn’t feel weird like it probably should. He looks transfixed, like I’m a drug to him. His nose brushes my clit and my thighs automatically clench.

When he stands, his erection grazes my leg. “I feel like a kid in a candy shop,” he tells me. “I’ve no idea which part of you to kiss first.”

“You could try my lips.”

“Old fashioned,” he murmurs. “I like it.” And then he does just that, brushing his mouth against mine, his hand steadies my neck as his lips start to move. I kiss him back, letting out a sigh as my breasts press against his chest, the scant hair stimulating my nipples. He slides his tongue against mine, a growl in his throat, before he pushes me back on the bed until my body meets the mattress.

He leans over me, kissing my mouth, my throat, the swell of my breasts. He’s tracing my skin and telling me how beautiful I am and how he’s dreamed about my body. He’s wetting my nipples with his tongue, then scraping his teeth against them, and I have to clutch his shoulders to hang on.

When his mouth reaches my stomach, his chest between my thighs, I realize something. Being bare is different. It makes everything more sensitive. Even his chest grazing my thighs is making me heat up to boiling point.

And when he runs his tongue along my seam, I almost buck off the bed. He puts his hands on my pelvis to steady me, still kissing me there. Then his fingers join his tongue, teasing the pleasure from me, my hips pushing against his face as I call out his name.

When he slides his fingers inside of me I’m gone. Stars explode behind my eyes, breath pushes out of my lungs, and my thighs contract until I think my body might hit the ceiling. He keeps licking me, touching me, making the most sensitive part of me tighten again and again. I pull at his hair until he looks up, his face glistening from me.

“I need you,” I whisper. And he knows what I mean because I hear the snap of a condom before he crawls over my body. His expression is strangely tender as I open my thighs for him, the heavy weight of his body a welcome pressure to my sensitive skin. I cup his face, not afraid of tasting myself on his mouth, and kiss him until we’re both breathless.

“Now,” I tell him.

He answers me with a surge of his hips, stretching me so wide I have to take a deep breath to get used to it.

His eyes catch mine. “Okay?” he asks me.

“More,” I reply, and he gives me just that. Another rock of his body against mine and I’m so full of him that I’m not sure where he begins and I end. He stills as though he knows I need time to adjust.

His hand cups my face. “I’m never gonna stop wanting you.”

“Fuck me,” I tell him.

And he does. Sliding his hand down my thigh he hitches my leg over his shoulder, the other still wrapped around his waist. The angle makes my eyes widen, as his hips slam into mine, making pleasure coil in every muscle. My breath is escaping in pants as I start to see those stars again.

“Liam…” I cry out, my fingers digging into his shoulders. My breath is ragged, my body moving so fast with his.

“That’s it,” he whispers. “Come on my cock.”

His words make me clench around him and he lets out a long, strangled groan. He tips his hips slightly, so every movement hits me right there, and within a heartbeat I’m clenching him again, but this time it doesn’t stop as I call out his name and fly over the edge.

He stops moving for a moment, then I feel him surging inside of me, and he calls out my name before he kisses me hard. I’m still coming and so is he, and for a moment I wonder if we’re ever going to stop.

It takes a while, I have to admit. And then I’m too sated to move.

His lips press against my throat, then move up to my mouth. “You’re mine,” he whispers, then he kisses me.

Yes I am. Truth be told, I think I’ve been his since the day we met. We’ve been fighting against this for so long.

And now we’re together and it’s perfect. And dammit, I start to cry.

“Are you hurt?” he whispers. “Jesus, did I hurt you?”

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