Page 123 of Sinfully Yours

I take him deeper, swallowing around him, and that's it.

A low, guttural curse rips from his throat, and in one swift motion, he yanks me up, flipping me onto my back. I gasp, barely registering the shift before he's on top of me, his weight pressing me into the mattress, his hands bracketing my face.

"You are such a fucking tease," he growls, his voice rough with need.

I grin up at him, breathless. "You love it."

His lips crash against mine in a bruising kiss, all heat and hunger and pent-up desire. His hands grip my thighs, spreading me wide beneath him, and I feel him, hot and hard against me, sliding through my wetness, teasing me, making me ache for him.

"Liam," I gasp, arching against him, desperate.

He grits his teeth, barely holding on. "Tell me you want this."

I wrap my legs around his waist, locking him against me, feeling every inch of him pressing right where I need him. "I want you," I whisper, dragging my nails down his back. "I need you."

That's all it takes.

With a growl, he thrusts into me, burying himself to the hilt in one deep, claiming stroke.

I cry out, my back arching, my nails digging into his shoulders as he stretches me, fills me, makes me feel so fucking full I can't think, can't breathe, can't do anything but take him.

"Fuck," he groans, pressing his forehead against mine, his body trembling as he stills inside me, giving me a moment to adjust. "You feel… Jesus, Ava, you feel perfect."

I whimper, rolling my hips, and he lets out a broken sound, his restraint slipping.

Then he moves.

Slow at first, dragging out every thrust, grinding against me just right, making me moan with every deep, measured roll of his hips. He keeps his pace torturously slow, like he wants to make me feel every inch of him, like he wants to draw this out until I'm begging.

But I don't want slow anymore.

I meet his thrusts, wrapping my arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer, biting his lip as I whisper, "Harder."

His entire body shudders.

Then his control snaps.

He grips my hips, his movements turning desperate, primal, driving into me harder, deeper, his breath ragged against my skin. Every thrust sends fire licking up my spine, pleasure coiling tight in my stomach, building higher and higher.

The sound of skin against skin fills the room, mingling with our moans, our gasps, the filthy things Liam growls against my throat.

"You're so fucking wet for me," he pants, his fingers digging into my hips. "You love this, don't you? Love the way I fuck you?"

"Yes," I gasp, arching into him, my nails raking down his back. "God, yes."

He curses, gripping my thigh and hitching it higher, angling himself deeper, hitting that spot that has me crying out his name, shattering around him as pleasure crashes over me like a tidal wave.

He doesn't stop.

He keeps thrusting, relentless, chasing his own release as I tighten around him, dragging him deeper into my pleasure, into the heat of it, until his breath stutters, his body tensing.

"Fuck, Ava!" His voice breaks, his rhythm faltering, and then he's gone, tumbling over the edge, groaning my name as he spills into me, his body shuddering, his grip on me bruising.

For a long moment, we just breathe.

Liam's weight presses me into the mattress, his heartbeat pounding against mine, his breath warm against my neck. Slowly, he lifts his head, brushing damp hair from my face, his gaze dark and unreadable.

And then, he rolls us over, keeping me tangled against him, as if he has no intention of letting me go.

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