Fuck that. Exhausted or not, he’d always find the energy to battle his woman on any level to remind her of where— and to who—she belonged.
Pulling on Liv’s legs, he slid her down to her back on the couch and knelt over her. He preemptively grabbed her wrists as her eyes flew open and she bolted upright, but she was quick to regain her wits and smiled instead of swinging.
“Hey, babe,” she cooed. “What time is it?”
“Doesn’t matter,” he growled. “No talking, okay?”
“Torch—”
He pressed two fingers to her lips then replaced them with his own, inhaling her sweet breath as their tongues met. Was that chocolate and whiskey he tasted? Jesus, whatever it was, he wanted more. He buried his fingers in her hair and savored her soft and warm mouth.
Fuck, so goddamn soft.
He had no idea how long that went on for, only feeling the need to reposition himself when his dick’s accommodations got to be too cramped. His eyes glued to hers the whole time, he pulled back onto his knees and yanked his shirt off, then stood up and dropped his jeans. As requested, she didn’t say anything, she just bit down on that pillowy fucking bottom lip and stared.
He swung his knee around to the back of the couch and flipped her over below him. Sliding his hands between her stomach and the cushion, he reached for the drawstring to her sweats and untied it. The pants slid down her fantastic ass with a tug. She bent her legs up so he could get them off the rest of the way, while his mouth made a beeline for her round cheeks and bit down. She moaned and dropped her head, her shoulders tensing up.
He wanted to be inside her, needed to be inside her. They couldn’t connect through words out of club code, but nothing could stop his body from doing the talking for him.
He climbed over her slowly, leaving a trail of kisses and nibbles from ass to neck. Then, slipping his hand under her chin, he turned her head and leaned down to get another taste of those lips.
His hand slid back down, caressing every inch of skin to her hip before dipping between her thighs. He spread her leg off the couch, before reaching under her stomach again and nudging her hips upward. Looking back over her shoulder, she lifted her ass in the air and arched her back.
Fuck mountains and oceans, this stunning view was all he craved. And he could take it anywhere he went.
A guttural moan escaped his throat as he spread her ass open. His desperate cock positioned at her slit, he ran his hand between her cheeks and down to that decadent fucking pussy.
With a thrust and a groan, her tight core swallowed him whole and sent shivers running up his spine. He draped his body over hers and hooked his forearm under her hips to keep them nice and high.
But he wasn’t there to give her slow and sweet, he was out to prove a point he hadn’t figured out yet. With every thrust, he went deeper and harder and faster, reveling in the sweat beginning to coat their skin. He clung to her lower belly, so tight he swore he could feel the head of his dick pressing up against his palm.
Liv’s moans soon matched his in intensity and volume. She was putting in the work, riding his dick and rolling her hips like a fucking porn star. But nothing in the way her body responded suggested she was faking anything like one. Her back glistened, from her mouth came grunts of pleasure, and the walls of her dripping cunt started closing in even tighter around his throbbing shaft. He could tell she was biting her tongue to keep from screaming out, but his woman seemed to be down for following orders and didn’t say a word.
It felt good, so fucking mind-blowingly good, but he didn’t want her doing any of the work; he wanted her pinned down and immobile, taking whatever he gave.
He uncurled his arm and forced her hips down flat without pulling out, then bunched up the back of her tank top and gripped it as tight as he could to constrict her even more.
Brushing her hair away from her neck and wrapping it around his other hand, he tugged her head back so he could see those jade, green eyes looking back at him. She smiled through pursed lips.