Page 65 of Liam

“Liam!” Lincoln calls, banging on the door again. I’d forgotten he was even there.

Liam doesn’t answer him; he just slides his hands over my bare legs, bringing him closer until his mouth meets mine. He tugs on my tank top, and against my lips, he whispers, “Can I?”

I nod, my mind too dizzy to comprehend what it means.

Slowly, he lifts my top over my breasts, then over my head, removing it entirely. I’m in my bra and underwear and nothing else, and Liam’s eyes glaze over when he steps back, appreciating my body from head to toe.

I pinch his shirt, begging him to remove it. He willingly complies. I’ve seen him shirtless before, but in this setting, doing what we’re doing, it amplifies the heat scorching across my flesh.

“Keep going,” he mouths, motioning between my legs.

His hand circles his cock, over his shorts, when I touch myself again, and his eyes—eyes darker than usual—laser focus on the movement.

Lincoln bangs on the door again. Just once. “Did you seriously fire him over this shit?”

Liam rolls his eyes. Doesn’t respond. Only steps closer and reaches around me. I think he’s going for a hug, but when I feel a tug on my bra, I know exactly what he’s doing. A second later, my bra’s unsnapped, the straps falling down my arms, and Liam keeps his gaze trained on my breasts as he slides it all the way off. “Fucking beautiful,” he whispers, ducking his head. With his lips parted an inch from my nipple, he looks up, asking for permission. I nod once. His mouth is burning hot against my flesh, and my head falls back in pleasure when he circles his tongue around the peak.

“Oh, God,” I moan, and his hand immediately covers my mouth.

It’s too much. The pleasure of Liam’s tongue has me halting my efforts on my clit, and he must notice because his hand replaces mine. At first, he works over my underwear, and within seconds, he’s pushing the fabric aside until it’s skin-on-skin contact, and I jerk at the instant pleasure it creates. My vision blurs, and I close my eyes, sparks of electricity ricocheting throughout me. I choke on a breath when he slides a finger inside me, the sensation causing my body to lock up, just for a moment, before it relaxes around him. Liam works his way from my breast to my mouth, moving his hand so he can heighten my arousal with a kiss so deep, it has me seeing stars behind my closed lids. He slides his finger to the hilt, then pulls out slowly, before doing it again.

Another bang on the door.

My eyes snap wide open.

“He’s posted it on Instagram!” Lincoln yells. “Tagged us and everything! Everyone’s talking about it already!”

Liam pulls away, and I think he’s going to respond, but he doesn’t. Instead, he drops to his knees, his head between my legs. Then he smiles as he looks up at me. “Perfect,” he mouths, and then he moves in, presses a kissright there, over the fabric, before pulling it into his mouth and sucking hard. My eyes widen in shock while his gaze turns molten. “Fuck you taste so good,” he says,out loud. And in one swift move, he’s sliding my underwear down my legs, throwing them over his shoulder, and grabbing my ass, dragging me to the edge of the vanity.

He reaches up, cupping my breast, and I don’t recognize my own body—the reaction it has—the pull it provides… the thoughts circling my mind.

My vision’s so hazy, I don’t recognize the room we’re in. Or the boy in front of me. The quiet, anxious boy who’s currently spitting on my pussy, then licking it clean.

He fucks me with his fingers first.

Then his tongue.

Then both at the same time.

He works me to the edge until I’m completely breathless, then brings me down, down, down, only to do it all over again.

Again and again.

“Oh, fuck,” I cry out, my legs trembling when he brings me to the peak. I grasp his hair, keep him right where he is as I grip the edge of the counter. He reaches up, and I clamp my mouth shut before he can cover it. “Good girl,” he murmurs, redirecting his hand from my mouth to my neck, squeezing just hard enough to bring pain to my pleasure. It’s all I need to release, erupting on his tongue as he laps up the evidence.

He holds me when I’m done, stroking my back through post-orgasm bliss. He’s so gentle with his touch—a complete contrastto who he was only moments ago. “You okay?” he whispers against my hair.

“Never better,” I breathe out. “What about you? How’s thatrestraintof yours going?”

His laugh is silent, but enough that I can feel its presence through his body.

We hold each other a moment, letting our breaths even out. “Just give me a minute, and I’ll take care of you,” I whisper.

He shakes his head. “You’re good. I came way before you did.”

I pull back, eyebrows raised in question.

He simply shrugs, brings his mouth to my ear. “I’ve been wanting to do that to you since the day I saw you in here.”

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