“Open them. Wide. I want to see all of you, Liv.”
I shudder out a breath, pausing.
“I want to see what I’m doing to you.”
I hear the clink of his belt and the swish of his jeans hitting the floor.
“Open them and you’ll see what you’re doing to me.”
Like they’re the magic words, I open my legs and glance up. He’s standing in front of me. His hand is wrapped around his hard cock, perfectly still, and the sight is so erotic that my pussy clenches.
He steps toward me and bends down, releasing his cock. He runs his hands down my thighs and his thumbs brush the tops of them on the inside. So close to my pussy. So close. I close my eyes.
“Liv,” he breathes, running his nose along the same path his thumbs have just taken. “You’re so wet. I can see it. I could push my cock into you right now and you’d take me easily, wouldn’t you?”
My breathing speeds up. That’s all I want right now. Him inside me. I’m done with foreplay.
“Wouldn’t you?” he repeats, squeezing my ass tightly.
“Yes,” I reply.
“Do you want me, Liv? Do you want my cock inside your gorgeous cunt?” He pushes up the bed and leans over me. His erection brushes my clit when he dips his face and drags my bottom lip between his teeth.
“Yes,” I whimper, pushing my hips against him. “Please,” I whisper. “Please.”
He positions himself close to me. “Condom.” He grazes my lip again.
“Top drawer.”
He leans over and grabs one. He rolls it on and pushes at my entrance. “Where were we?” he asks over kissing my neck.
I swallow my small moan. “You were about to fuck me.”
He obliges, filling me with one swift thrust that makes me throw my head back and grip at his back. He moves inside me, his rhythm fast yet steady and controlled. Each thrust is like he was tailor-made it for my body. He hits the right spots every time, never easing up on his pressure.
He’s deep inside me and tilting my hips for more. Or maybe I’m the one tilting my hips. I don’t know anymore. All I’m aware of is the sweat slicking our bodies, our skin sliding together, my legs wrapped around his waist, his hardness inside my softness.
I’m aware of the slow build of pressure in my body.
“I love it when you come for me,” he whispers in my ear. “I love watching you. Your cheeks flush and your eyes go glassy… They did that in the florist as you came all over my hand. I’ve been trying to get that image of you out of my head for days, but I can’t.”
I grip him tightly as the slow pressure speeds up.
“I want you to come for me now. I want to feel your tight pussy squeezing my cock as you scream into my ear. Because you’re a screamer for me, aren’t you?”
My answer is a long moan.
“How loud do you think you can scream, Liv? Shall we find out?”
He sits up and grabs my hips, holding them in place. He’s still, deathly still, and I wonder if he’ll ever be inside me again, and then, he is. In one swift, hard thrust, he’s filling me and making me cry out. Making my back arch.
My hips never move. He keeps them steady as he pounds relentlessly into me. I fist the sheets and close my eyes as my body clenches. Every muscle is tight in anticipation. Every cry leaving my mouth is louder, higher, more desperate.
His thumb presses against my clit and the pleasure blinds me. For a moment, I’m in a place higher than Earth, floating somewhere in the sky. And I come back down with a crash. Tyler groans my name, bending back over me. I tremble beneath him, my orgasm still running rife through my body.
He lowers his mouth to mine and swallows my whimpers with his lips. Swollen and tender against him, I kiss him back, my fingers wrapping around his arms.
“Oh, Liv,” he says into the kiss. “You’ve fucked me, baby girl. Well and truly fucked me.”
He pulls out of me with one last brush of his lips across mine. I grab my sheet and cover my body with it as he gets dressed. He buttons his shirt and turns away, then stops, then turns back and kisses me firmly. The second he releases me, he opens my bedroom door and walks away.
His goodbye is the slamming of my apartment door.
There are several rules to a no-strings relationship.
No getting to know each other. No dinner dates. No casual kisses or touches in public. And absolutely no snuggling after sex.
I’ve always been okay with this. Even now, my rational mind says that I’m okay with the way Tyler up and left after. After all, this is what I want. It fulfills everything. There’s no stickiness and my stupid and crazy desire for him can be sated.
Or I can attempt to sate it. I woke up more than once last night tangled in my sheets with a damning ache between my legs. My dreams were endless replays of last night, and his words seemed to echo through my dream world.