Liam watches my face, his features bleeding pleasure, but he doesn’t tell me what to do. He doesn’t rush me or demand I hurry up. He lets me explore. When the head of his dick hits a spot deep within me, I moan, loving how good it feels. I do it again and again. My body tightening in anticipation. As my orgasm overtakes me, Liam rakes his fingers through my hair and pulls me down to him, kissing me hard and passionately as the most exquisite orgasm rocks me to my core.
Before I’ve come down from my high, he flips us over and enters me in one fluid motion. My legs come up and his hands grip the backs of my thighs as he drills into me.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he growls, before pulling back and gripping his shaft. He strokes his dick a couple times and then ropes of cum spurt out, landing all over my belly and breasts.
And that’s when it hits me. We haven’t used any protection. Shit. Did he pull out last night?
“Jesus, woman,” he breathes. “I could live inside you for the rest of my life and be content.”
I know he’s just joking, but the sound of that—of being with him for the rest of our lives—has those crazy butterflies attacking my belly.
He dips his head and kisses me one more time, then crawls off me. “Shower with me,” he says, already scooping me up into his arms before I can answer.
We’re quiet while we shower, but it’s a comfortable silence. I’ve never showered with a man before, but as Liam massages the shampoo and then conditioner into my scalp, I decide that I highly recommend it and hope to do it again in the future, sooner rather than later.
And with that thought, my heart plummets into my stomach. After this weekend, Liam will be gone, and I’ll be back to showering alone. But I refuse to dwell on what happens after he leaves, reminding myself that I knew what I was getting into when I agreed to this weekend.
“I ordered you some clothes,” he tells me, planting a soft kiss on my lips. “I went off your sizes. I also ordered breakfast.”
“Don’t you just think of everything,” I joke, kissing him back.
“I didn’t want to risk you leaving.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” I assure him. Not until Monday morning anyway…
After we’re done in the shower, dried and dressed, we plate up some of the delicious food he had brought up and take it out onto the balcony.
We spend the morning lounging around, eating and talking. It’s crazy how comfortable I feel with Liam. I’ve only known him for less than a day, but it feels like it’s been longer. I had clients I would see several times a week for weeks, sometimes even months, at a time, yet I never felt as close and comfortable with them as I do with him.
When lunch rolls around, he orders us a couple of mahi sandwiches and a bottle of that delicious wine from last night.
“I’m going to need to order a case of this,” I tell him, reading the label on the bottle before pouring myself another glass. “It’s from Napa Valley.”
“I’ve heard they have beautiful vineyards over there. Have you ever been? They’re not too far from here, right?”
“No, but I want to travel.” I think about all the plans I’ve dreamed about over the years.
“Where to?” he asks, taking a bite of his sandwich and washing it down with a sip of wine.
“Everywhere. I would start in California, visit the vineyards and then maybe work my way across the US, hitting up every photographic place, or I would go big and fly overseas, travel the world. My dream is to start a blog. Travel from place to place, taking pictures and writing about what I’ve seen.”
A grin spreads across Liam’s face. “That sounds like the perfect way to live.”
I nod in agreement.
“What made you want to do that?”
“When I was in college, I took a journalism class—”
“You attended college?” he asks, cutting me off, his voice filled with curiosity.
“Yes, I graduated last year with a degree in journalism.”
“That’s awesome. Congratulations.”
“Thank you.”
“Sorry, so you took a journalism class and…”
“The professor had us take pictures and then write about them. What did we see? How did they make us feel? Before we could show others what we saw, she had us share the images, so everyone else could write what they saw. It was so eye-opening to see how one image could ignite so many different opinions and emotions.”
“Where have you traveled so far?” he asks, leaning in closer to me. We’re sitting in a double lounger and my legs are wrapped up in his own. The hand he’s not eating with is massaging circles along my thigh. Even though he had clothes brought in for me, I chose to go with only his shirt and a pair of panties he bought.