I nodded. “I want to. I’m just…” I swallowed, looking down between his legs. “You’re bigger than I’ve ever…”
I didn’t have to finish the sentence. We both knew. And Liam kissed me again to reassure me before he slipped off the bed long enough to rummage through his wallet and grab a condom. He rolled it over his length, and then he stalked back over to the bed and lay me down into the sheets.
He balanced on his elbows above me, his eyes flicking between mine, and suddenly all the playfulness and sexiness of the evening was gone. It felt heavier somehow now, like the foreplay was safe territory, training, and now we were on the front lines.
It was real now.
I wondered if I should be more scared than I was, if I should worry over how I would feel in the morning, what tomorrow would bring. But all I could do was lose myself in those dark eyes staring down at me, in the feel of his weight on top of me, in the need pulsing between my legs for us to be connected.
Liam kissed me, his lips soft on mine as he reached down between us. I felt him position his tip at my entrance, and then gently, carefully, he flexed until just the tip was inside me.
“Fucking hell,” he said as I moaned and held on tighter, my nails digging into his back.
He stayed there for a long while, both of us breathing and adjusting, and then he flexed in a little deeper, and then a little deeper, until he was all the way inside me. My walls pulsed around him, and tears pricked my eyes from the mixture of the pain and pleasure. He stretched me even farther when he withdrew and flexed back inside, but it felt as good as it did bad, and the more he moved, the more the pain receded and the need for more took over.
Liam captured my next moan with his mouth, our tongues sloppy, kisses uncoordinated as we moved together. I held onto his shoulders and wrapped my ankles around his hips as he found his flow, a flex in and a glide out, the most punishing and pleasure-filled rhythm.
“Harder,” I begged on a breath. “More.”
“Christ, Harley,” he breathed back, but he answered my plea, pushing up to balance on his palms as his hips slammed against my pelvis. Over and over, again and again, he filled me to the brim as I clutched the sheets and cried out in ecstasy.
And before I could catch on to the fire building, I was already exploding from the inside out.
This orgasm was different, deeper and more consuming, less electric, but just as powerful, like the unsuspecting tide taking me down for my very last breath. I blacked out a little as I gave in to the feeling, and when I came to, Liam’s next breath seized short, his body stopping altogether as he stilled inside me, but I felt his cock pulsing its release into the condom.
It was the most beautiful sight, him frozen like that, the pleasure rocking through him so hard that he had no choice but to let it take him over. His eyes squeezed shut, muscles flexing on every inch of his body, and when he was spent, he collapsed into a heap on top of me, our slick bodies meeting in a hot embrace.
I instantly wanted my brushes and a blank canvas.
I wanted to paint every bright, brilliant color Liam Benson made me see.
“Goddamn,” he breathed on a laugh, rolling over until he was beside me. I was sad for the loss of touch until he wrapped me in his arms, kissing my shoulders and neck and the corner of my lips where they turned up into a smile of my own. “Well, it’s official.”
“What is?”
“We’re both ruined.”
He laughed a little with the joke, and I laughed, too, because I loved the sound of being sexy and powerful enough to ruin him for someone else — like his own personal Venus.
But neither of us could have known the truth that lay beneath those seemingly innocent words.
Neither of us could have stopped, even if we knew how it all would end.
The Art of Playing It Cool
I didn’t know how it worked.
What were you supposed to do after having the best sex of your life with the guy you promised you could do a casual hookup with? Everything I’d learned from the movies and television told me I should leave before breakfast, so that was step one. After Liam’s deep breathing turned to soft snoring, I carefully slipped out from under the covers, got dressed, and walked the short distance to my dorm to sleep.
Or to try to sleep, anyway.
The reality lay more in the area of toss and turn, smile like a loon, giggle to myself as I replayed every minute of the night, sigh and roll over to try to sleep again, only to have it all repeat.