over and over until I tipped my head back and moaned his name in impatience.
I felt him slide my thong to the side and his mouth pressed a kiss right to my center.
I couldn’t bear it. I grabbed his hands, still pinning my hips, and tore them away so I could move freely, wildly. His hands slid under my ass, lifting me and bringing his mouth, his tongue, more firmly inside of me. I squirmed, I made noises that sounded foreign to me, and relinquished any control I thought I had.
He dragged my thong down, spread my legs, and his fingers slid inside of me, curling right where I needed him and pressing the spot that drove me wild.
If I had any inhibitions, they were long thrown out the window.
“Liam,” I whispered hoarsely. I didn’t want him to stop. But I didn’t want to finish before he even had a chance. But whatever I was going to say died in my throat, because his mouth pressed my clit and my head flew back to allow for a deep moan that was more feral than human as I came.
“Liam,” I panted, my body spent and trembling.
“Tori.”
I opened one eye to look at him. “Please tell me you have condoms.”
He laughed. “I do.”
“Thank goodness. Whip one on, will you?” I was exhausted, but still hungry for more. Insatiable.
“You sure?”
“I’ve probably never been more sure of anything in my life,” I told him honestly. Tired or not, I wanted him wholly. “Hurry. Please.”
He disappeared for a moment before returning, squinting at the foil packet in his hands and giving me a moment to marvel at him as he dragged the condom down his length. For how wiped out I was, I found myself surprised by how desire trumped sleep.
Liam scooped his arm under my back and lifted me further back on the bed so that my head hit the pillows before he climbed over me. He dragged his hand down my chest, over my stomach, and led himself inside of me.
Unlike the furious speed of his fingers before, this was slow, languid. His strokes were easy, like he had all the time in the world for this, and I found that insanely sexy. A lot of guys hurried through this part, like they were in a race, but Liam took his time. Over and over he rocked into me; the heat within building with each stroke. His forehead pressed to mine and by the ragged intake of his breath, I knew he was going slow on purpose—for me. He was giving me the space to have another orgasm. I cradled his face in my hands and told him he could go faster.
“I’m not in a rush,” he said, an echo of the way I felt about him, too.
But I was near orgasm again, and this time I didn’t want to go under alone.
Pressing a hand on his chest, I rolled over so my ass was against him and pulled him back to me as I sat up on my knees. I guided him back inside of me and fell forward, bracing my hands on the bed as I rode him and he rode me. The slap of my ass on his thighs triggered me to go faster, to hit harder. His fingers dug into my cheeks as our tempo increased, punctuated with whispers and pants and then, most profoundly, a moan from both of our throats as we met our release nearly simultaneously.
Collapsing forward, I worked to steady my breaths and my heart rate. The bed dipped as he fell beside me on the comforter. The roar of my pulse in my ears drowned out anything he or I might say, so I laid there as my entire body calmed, feeling a tingle radiate from my toes to my scalp.
Finally, when my breaths were relatively even again, I rolled to my side to face him.
His hand was on his chest as he stared up at the ceiling. I wondered what he was thinking. I could barely rub a few brain cells together myself at the moment.
With a yawn, I lifted my arms and clapped.
He turned; his eyebrow raised. “What’s that?”
"Applause, as you predicted. Great performance. Two thumbs up.”
He laughed, a great belly laugh, and draped a hand over his stomach. The flash of his wedding ring caught the light from the lamp and I realized I might have liked the look of it on his hand too much. “If I had any energy