Part 29

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Liam

Her finger slid down my chest igniting a fire inside that burned hotter than anything I'd ever felt before. Fuck me. I couldn't even think straight. She was bent at the waist, her head in front of my face as her finger was joined by the rest and slid like warm heaven over the bulge in my pants. I lost it. My next move was on instinct alone. My hand flew to her hair, tangling in the strands and pulling her mouth to mine. I needed her to breathe, I needed to taste her lips and feel her tongue against mine. I was so thirsty for her touch I ached and throbbed until my mind was too overwhelmed to let a clear thought through.

Testosterone had already figured this dance out. My other hand gripped her hip, my fingers sliding beneath the fabric of her shirt and tracing her smooth skin until the tips dug in and pulled her closer. Need. Raw. Aching. I tried again to catch my breath, but her tongue had found mine, and her mouth moved away just enough for her teeth to catch my bottom lip and tug. They scraped and pulled and I swear I felt each tiny movement as if her mouth was tugging on more urgent body parts. I flexed my hips and pushed against her palm, wanting her to feel what she was doing to me—had done to me in just a few little sways. How could she have ever doubted she was enough? She never would again.

My legs were numb. I felt nothing beyond where her hand gripped me. She spread out her fingers again, releasing the pressure for a few tortured seconds before closing the vice again and completely blowing my mind. Her other hand found my jaw and she lifted it up so she could let her tongue dive deeper into my mouth. She was taking from me in an urgent and primal way that had heat licking up my spine and twisting in my gut. Take it. I wasn't even sure if it was a just thought or if the words had left my mouth. Fucking take it.

She whimpered, a sound so innocent and yet so fucking dirty at the same time I couldn't breathe. I pulled her lips away from mine so I could think. I knew I couldn't let it go without saying something—without showing her that she was far sexier than she'd ever believed herself to be. Her heavy lidded eyes met mine as our labored breaths filled the space between our swollen lips. "That's it, love. Fucking perfect." I know my lips curled up right before our mouths came crashing together again. Teeth and tongue, lips and heat. Heaven and sweet, sweet sin. When her hand at my jaw moved into my hair, pulling absently as if she might fall, I moaned, a low rumble of pleasure that vibrated from my chest. Her breath caught and I opened my eyes, pulling back so she could see the way she'd made me lose control—the blown out pupils I knew she'd find. She tucked her lip between her teeth, but instead of lightly trapping it there, her teeth bit harder, a failing attempt at locking down the passion burning her up.

I saw the moment she lost control. The split second where she finally stepped out of her thoughts long enough to let her body lead the motion. So fucking hot, but the best kind of burn. No one was in control anymore. She moved and my body responded, I countered and she pushed right back. We were wild and reckless and so full of pent-up heat it was sparking and raging like gas on a flame.

Her eyes were still lost in mine when her hand splayed out across my chest. I know she could feel my pulse, thumping beneath her palm over my heart and even more evident in her palm still playing the dangerous game of grip and release below my waist. She was stoking a fire that couldn't be contained. The tip of her tongue rolled out across her pink plump lip, wetting it and I shut my eyes tightly when my concentration seemed to trip over thoughts of other pretty pink places. When they opened again her stare was piercing, a heat behind her eyes that could incinerate any man on earth. She gave my chest a shove and I gripped her hip tighter, bringing her with me as I fell.

I guided her over me, knowing my fingers were leaving marks on her hips as I pulled her up my thighs. Her hand left my pants and the ache just beneath it grew so sharp I couldn't help the roll of my hip that pressed each hard inch against her hot center. "Fuck," I bit out, not even recognizing the desperation in my own voice. My hands moved to her ass and I lifted her up and then rocked her against me again. I could have finished with that friction alone—but this was nowhere near over yet. Her legs spread a little wider, her hands flat against my chest as she threw her head back, releasing a sigh so raw I felt myself twitch beneath her warmth. So sexy.

I wanted to hear every gasp. I needed to hear her pull in air and release it swiftly as I pressed against her. I reached for the radio and pulled it roughly from the table, not giving a shit if I broke it as I let it sail across the room. I just need to hear only her. I needed her to hear herself and the way she made me groan. I wanted her to hear the sound my mouth would make as I sucked at her skin. Her head tipped back up and I watched as her mouth opened on a silent gasp when I finally found the exact spot I needed to hit each time I rolled my hips and pressed her down against my lap. A full body shutter rolled over her and her fingers curled and gripped at my chest. "Off." It was a demand because I couldn't live any longer if I didn't get her shirt off. I pulled the hem away from her waist and I bit my lip when she moved on top of me, never missing a beat from the rhythm I'd found.

Watching her move above me, her cheeks flushed and her hair messed and falling around her face was almost too much. "That's it," I whispered roughly, "Feels so fucking good." I lifted her shirt quickly, loving the way she raised her arms for me to get it off and how I then had the best view of her perfect tits, bouncing and threatening to spill from the soft lacy cups. My hands covered them, running my thumbs over the tips of each point. She watched my hands on her skin as I filled my palms and then pulled down the lace so I could see what was barely hidden.

"More," she whispered. "I. Need. More." 

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