“That’s it,” he coaxed me, intimately aware as always of my level of response. “Let me take over. Let me make you feel good.”
I closed my eyes, leaning my head back against his shoulder, letting the pleasure build, build up to climax.
“Liam,” I moaned, feeling close, wanting him to move his attention back to my clit again, take me up and over.
“That’s it,” he declared, moving his fingers away, releasing my throat.
“What’s it?” I asked, eyes open, missing his touch intensely.
“The sound.” He kissed my throat, my ear. “You made that sound I love.”
“Liam!” I pushed him playfully. “Don’t stop at that!”
“Don’t stop?” he looked at me, devilish mischief in his eyes. “All right. Come this way.” He led me into the bedroom and sat me on the bed. Then he sat on an arm chair in the corner.
“Take off your clothes.” I undressed, standing before him, filled with anticipation.
“Now lie on the bed,” he instructed. “Spread your legs. And touch yourself for me.”
Without hesitation, I lay back, opening wide. I got myself right to the edge so he could see everything. I slid my fingers down to my slick pussy and started moving, playing with myself, enjoying it all the more that he could see.
“Fuck yourself,” he ordered, and the thick arousal I could hear in his voice turned me on more. I moaned as I did as I was told, taking first one, then two fingers and thrusting them into myself. With my thumb I still worked my clit, using the friction I needed to start getting close. I started bucking my hips, grinding in rhythm, impatient for release.
But then he stopped me again. He leaped out of the chair, catching me around the waist just before I could cum. He grabbed my wrists and pulled me to standing. Frustrated, I gave a little groan of protest but he pushed me down onto all fours.
“When I say you can cum,” he reminded me, swatting my ass. Then I heard the sound of him undoing his zipper and I felt a flush of wet heat in my pussy. I did love his cock. Maybe that was what he had planned for that night.
He twisted my hair back into a pony tail, grabbing hold of it tight with his hand. He had me positioned right in front of the full-length mirror, and I could see him kneeling behind me, looming over me as I offered myself before him.
“Watch as I enter you,” he instructed me. He pulled tight on my hair, keeping my head up, and moved his other hand to my hip, holding me in place. His cock was so big he always stretched me when he entered me. No matter how wet I was, how much I wanted it, it always took me a bit to adjust. Without warning, he thrust into me deep, my juices slick and slippery around his cock. My eyes widened and watered at getting stretched so full so fast.
“Yes,” he encouraged me, starting to thrust. He pulled my hair, giving that edge of pain that made me whimper, my pussy contracting around his cock. “Take it.” Before long, I was pushing back against him, wanting it harder, needing him to slam his full length deep into me.
“Now you get to cum,” he thundered, fucking me hard and fast. “Watch it.”
I looked up into the mirror and saw as he came inside me, filling me. My mouth opened in a perfect O, my eyes locked on the expression of pure ecstasy in the mirror. I never wanted him to stop, never wanted the orgasm to end. Watching his climax, the muscles so tight, his neck corded, hearing him and feeling him and watching him all at once made it even more intense, even hotter. Until with a final, animalistic grunt, he dropped down over me, kissing my neck, my back.
“I love you, Sophie,” he told me with each kiss. He picked me up and carried me into the shower, big enough for two. We lathered and rinsed each other, toweled off and entered the kitchen relaxed and happy. Liam knew how to satisfy me like no other.
We made a quick stir fry, some chicken with broccoli and peanuts over rice. Afterward, we were settling down for some quality mindless TV when he jumped up again.
“Almost forgot. I got something for dessert.” He hustled off into the kitchen again. I didn’t think much of it. Sometimes he stopped off at the one ice cream shop that stayed open year round to get my favorite flavor. I figured that was probably what he was doing, getting us two bowls. But when he came back, he didn’t seem to have anything in his hands.
“Sophie,” he started and right from the tone of his voice I could tell he was about to ask me something important. I sat up, and I honestly couldn’t even process a single word he said afterward because in his hand he held up an engagement ring. It looked simple and gorgeous and perfect and even as my mind went into overload of joy I could process the fact that when he went down on one knee before me he was asking me to marry him.
I found myself getting down on my knees next to him, throwing my arms around his neck and kissing, kissing his lips his chin, his neck.
“Is that a yes?” he asked.
“Yes! Of course, yes!” I cried, showering him with all the kisses I’d held back all those years we’d been apart. All the kisses I couldn’t wait to give him all the rest of our days.
“Ooh let’s make Eloise the flower girl!” I declared, already thinking about how excited she’d be to have such an important part of the ceremony.
“Good with me,” he agreed. “My mom is going to have a lot of ideas for you.” His tone sounded like it was a warning, but I couldn’t wait. She was so kind and generous and excited for us I knew we were going to have fun with the planning. My own mother would be another story, but we’d cross that bridge when we came to it.
“Liam.” I kissed my love, my soon-to-be husband. He slipped the ring on my finger. A bit big, but that could be fixed. Then I’d never take it off.
“You’re my everything,” he murmured, taking my hands. “I never thought I could be this happy.”
“I had no idea,” I agreed. But I had the feeling it was just going to keep getting better all the time.
THE END