Page 61 of Sinfully Yours

"Fuck, Ava." His voice is rough, his grip tightening. "You feel so fucking good."

He stays still for a moment, like he's trying to hold on to the last thread of his control.

I don't want him to.

I need all of him.

"Move, Liam." My voice is a plea, a demand.

He growls, pulling out just enough to make me feel empty before slamming back inside me, hard and deep.

I scream his name, my entire body clenching around him.

And then he fucks me.

Fast, deep, punishing.

His hips slamming into mine, his hands gripping my waist like he'll never let me go.

I moan helplessly, lost in the feeling of him stretching me, owning me.

"You take me so fucking well, baby," he groans, his voice full of dark approval.

I shudder, pushing back against him, matching his rhythm, chasing that edge.

One of his hands leaves my hip, sliding around to my front, his fingers finding my clit.

I gasp, arching against him as he rubs tight, ruthless circles, making my vision go white.

"Liam—"

"Come for me, Ava," he commands, his thrusts turning erratic, desperate.

That's all it takes.

I shatter, pleasure ripping through me, my body locking up, my walls clenching around him.

He groans, his grip bruising, his rhythm faltering.

"Fuck, Ava."

His hands are everywhere, gripping, teasing, demanding. I sigh, expecting him to slow down. But God, I'm wrong. I've never been more wrong.

He moves like a man who's been holding back for too long and is finally claiming what's his. And maybe he has been.

Maybe I have too.

I don't care.

Because right now, he's deep inside me, stretching me open, owning every part of me, and I never want him to stop.

His fingers press into my hips, his grip firm as he thrusts into me, slow at first, dragging it out, making me feel every inch of him.

"You feel that, baby?" His voice is a rough growl in my ear. "How fucking tight you are for me?"

I moan, unable to do anything but take it, to let him fill me over and over.

He leans in, his mouth grazing the shell of my ear.

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