Page 69 of A Vine Mess
The way he looked at me in the wake of those four words sent fire licking at my skin and coursing through my veins. I watched that leash snap, and he straightened, gripping my legs behind my knees and shifting them back so they were damn near at my ears, bending me in half. His eyes flared, their bright blue fading to something darker and stormier as he watched where we connected.
“Hold on, baby.”
I anchored my hands around his wrists as he gave me what I wanted at last.
There was no mercy in his thrusts, nothing I could do but take everything he gave me, my moans growing in volume until I waspractically screaming for him, begging in nonsensical ways for him to get me there faster. Having him uncaged and feral like this was delicious, knowing I was the only one who got to witness it.
Even through my delirious, desire-induced haze, I was mesmerized by the way his muscles bunched as he flexed his hips into me over and over, branding that spot so fucking deep, the one no one else had ever been able to find let alone reach.
It was a claiming, the way he took me, and he confirmed it with his next words.
“Fuck, Wildflower,” he grumbled. “I knew you’d feel good, but I didn’t expect this. I was made for you. You hear me? My cock was made specifically for your perfect cunt.”
And I’d be damned if he wasn’t right, if the way he slotted inside me, filling me better than anyone—or any toy—ever had before, wasn’t the most exquisite, perfect fit. The kind predestined. All of our mistakes and missteps lead us right here, to the time when we finally came together.
“A little bit more, baby,” he huffed out, both of our chests heaving, both of us sticky with sweat, some even trailing along Liam’s hairline and dripping into his beard. “You’re so close.”
He moved one hand to my clit, ghosting over my swollen flesh, and I reached for his other with mine, lacing our fingers tightly, almost painfully, together. Like he was my harbor in the storm brewing beneath my skin.
“Come with me,” I begged. My orgasm was so close, shimmering at the surface. A few swipes against my clit would send me flying off the cliff—but I wanted him by my side.
Our gazes snagged, and I couldn’t look away. The world could’ve been ending outside the windows, and I wouldn’t havenoticed, couldn’t have torn my eyes from his if I tried.
His hips pistoned impossibly faster, the entire bed shifting and creaking with the movement, and he groaned.
“Fuck, okay, I’m gonna come,” he said, then pressed the pads of three of his fingers to my clit.
I detonated.
My back arched off the bed as I screamed his name, pieces of myself scattering into the room around us as I broke apart. I was vaguely aware of him pulsing and spilling inside me. His murmured praises barely reached my ears as my entire body shook, goosebumps rising on my skin. I wasn’t aware of anything but the sheer amount of pleasure coursing through me.
By the time I came back to myself—days, weeks, months later—Liam had collapsed at my side, pulling me to his chest and holding me tightly.
We were silent for a beat before he chuckled softly, which quickly grew into full on laughter. Though my limbs were deliciously wrung out and it took every ounce of strength I had, I lifted my head to glare down at him.
“What’s so funny?”
He grinned at me, and his smile was so fucking beautiful it took my breath away. “Has it ever been like that for you?”
I shook my head. “I’ve never come that hard in my life,” I confirmed.
“You’re goddamn right,” he said, lightly tapping my nose, and I dropped my head to burrow deeper into his side. “I’ve had a thing for you from the very first moment I saw you.”
“The day you came in to buy flowers for my mom’s birthday.”
He lightly pinched my side. “Don’t interrupt.”
I only giggled but remained quiet so he could continue.
“Watching you with another guy was…torture, to say the least. But some part of me always knew that we’d end up here. And now here I am, falling deeper for you by the day, having just had my brain scrambled by the best sex I’ve ever had in my life, and…it’s nice to know I was right. It’s funny because it’s such a fuckingrelief.” He rolled us so I was once again on my back beneath him, his expression earnest as he said, “Promise me, Ella. Promise me this is real.”
I softened, my heart melting straight into my stomach. Cupping his cheeks, I brought my face closer to his, our lips brushing as I said, “It’s real, Liam. It’s the realest thing I’ve ever felt.”
I had no idea how or when it happened. Somewhere along the way—honestly, probably in the months leading up to this moment where he sat by my side while I worked through my grief—I’d fallen for this man. For his giant heart, his kindness, his support and ferocity. How closely he paid attention to the little things that made me happy and never let me go a day without one of them.
How he held me. His filthy words and gentle touches. The way he said my name and called me Wildflower.
The ease I felt when I was with him, like I didn’t need to be anyone but me. With him at my side, I was free to be the Ella Delatou I was always meant to be. The best, most authentic version of myself.
