Page 35 of I Can't Even

“Faster,” I panted. “Deeper.”

His dark eyes met mine and he looked like he wanted to devour me but was holding himself back.

“And who do you need it from?” He lowered his head and put his lips on the sensitive spot right below my ear. His voice was a gruff whisper, making me tremble. “Who, surfer girl, who do you need?”

“You,” I cried out. The sound of his old nickname for me in his gravelly voice made my insides spasm.

“Say my name,” he said. His voice was firm with the demand. “Say my name, Jules.”

He pulled his fingers almost all the way out of me and paused, not moving his hand, and I was desperate to feel his touch. Desperate to feel him fill up the huge emotional void inside of me.

“Liam,” I said.

“Say it again,” he ordered.

“Liam, please,” I cried. “Liam.”

Satisfied, he shoved his fingers in deep again and again and the relief was so great that my body began to shudder and convulse from some sort of epicenter that his touch had tapped. I arched my back and pushed up against his touch as I cried out, “Liam. Liam. Liam.”

I felt as if I’d been blown apart and my pieces had to float down from the ether and fall back into place. Aftershocks hit me, rippling through me as I blinked into awareness. I found Liam standing beside the bed. He had his arms crossed, his jaw clenched and his nostrils flared.

Without saying a word, he grabbed one of my legs and flipped me over onto my stomach. I heard the zipper on his jeans slide down and I went to rise up, but he put his hand on my back and held me in place.

“No, don’t move,” he said.

I stilled. I wasn’t sure what he wanted from me, and I was so undone, I was willing to do whatever he required. I heard the rip of a wrapper and knew he was putting on a condom. Liam was going to do exactly what he said. I should have been sated. I should have been happy to curl into a ball of contentment and sleep for a week, but the thought of him pressing inside me made my insides liquefy and the desire inside of me lifted its big blocky head and roared.

He pushed my thighs apart and without saying a word, he slammed inside of me in one fierce thrust. My body wrapped around him like a tight fist and he leaned over my back, pressing his lips into the nape of my neck.

“So good,” he whispered. “So fucking good.”

The heat inside of me unfurled and when he grabbed my shoulders in his callused palms and held me still while he pounded into me, I fisted the comforter in my hands and arched my back meeting him thrust for thrust. He grunted and swore, and I felt my body tighten around his, clenching him as it climbed back toward orgasm.

“Damn it, not yet,” he said.

He pulled out of me and flipped me over. Without taking off his shirt or his pants, he spread my legs wide and thrust back up inside of me but this time he didn’t move. He held still. There was a dangerous look in his eyes and I knew it didn’t bode well for me. He had said he was going to fuck me for hours, oh my god, and as much as I loved the idea of that I realized he was working awfully hard to maintain control of what was happening between us. Yeah, that didn’t really work for me. In the orgasm department it was great but I wanted him to feel as mindlessly out of control as I did.

I ran a hand through his hair and he shuddered. Then I traced the curve of his lips with my finger before moving my hands to his shirt, which I unbuttoned while he stayed motionless, staring at me as if trying not to be distracted by the feel of my hands on his skin as they slid down his sides to reach into his jeans and gently cup his balls.

“Don’t,” he growled.

He shook his head as if he was trying to shake me off. His hands were locked into fists on either side of my head. It was clear he was keeping himself immobile to try and regain his control. Not if I had anything to say about it.

I arched, pushing myself up against him. His breath hissed out between clenched teeth.

“Jules.” His voice was full of warning.

I ignored him and lifted one leg, sliding it up over his shoulder and then the other. I grabbed the belt loops on the side of his jeans and pulled him in tight.

“Damn it, Jules, stop,” he said.

“Make me,” I said.

I met his gaze and was surprised I didn’t see flames leap up in his irises the look he gave me was that hot. I smiled at him and then I started to clench my inner muscles around his cock, squeezing him tight the same way I had when we were just young teens figuring it out.

“Oh, fuck me,” he said.

He grabbed my hips and began to slide in and out of me, picking up speed, creating the sort of friction that started fires. It sparked inside of me, igniting the embers of my need.

---