At last, Liam felt Anthony groan, and then he was pumping him full of his come.
The sensation was unbearably good and Liam found himself coming for the second time, his hole clenching around the cock in him. Oh gods. So fucking good. So good, but there was some vague sense of dissatisfaction too. He wanted more—he wanted Anthony to knot him.
But it still felt so good.
So wonderful.
He didn’t know how long he’d floated on the cloud of pleasure, his face tucked against Anthony’s throat, when the sound of Eric’s voice calling his name snapped him out of it.
Panic nearly making him sick, Liam scrambled off Anthony’s lap, wincing when the half-hard cock slipped out of him. Ignoring his discomfort, he yanked his pants up and ran out of the library.
Breathing hard, Liam stopped in the corridor outside it, his eyes trying to adjust to the sudden brightness.
“Li, where the hell were you?” Eric said, striding toward him.
“I was in the library,” Liam croaked out. “Reading a—a book.”
Eric made a noncommittal noise, his eyes on his phone. He didn’t even seem to notice Liam’s disheveled appearance or flushed face. But that was Eric. He was totally clueless and unobservant when it came to reading people.
“You smell weird,” Eric said, his nostrils flaring.
Or maybe not so unobservant.
“I know I need a shower, there’s no need to be so rude,” Liam said quickly, heading toward his bedroom. Walking normally was a struggle. “Did you want something?”
“I wanted advice,” Eric said.
“Hm?” Liam said distractedly, trying to ignore the trickle of come running down his thigh. His brother’s come.
Fuck, what had he done?
Was he insane? How could he have done it?
His stomach tied up in knots, Liam could barely hear what Eric was saying. He hummed noncommittally and hopefully made appropriate noises, but he wouldn’t be able to say what they were talking about even if his life depended on it.
“Thanks, Li!” Eric said brightly and ran off.
Liam blinked at his back, hoping whatever they had been talking about was trivial.
Shaking his head, Liam entered his bedroom. He went still, staring at his pristine bed, then at the rest of his room. It felt surreal that it looked the same, as if his room had no business looking this way after what had happened.
He walked to the mirror and stared at his reflection.
He looked no different, either. The same golden hair, the same light-brown eyes with flecks of gold. His cheeks were still a little flushed, but other than that, nothing in his appearance betrayed that he was no longer a virgin. That he’d had a cock in him. A cock that belonged to his—
Liam groaned, covering his flaming cheeks with his hands. His hands felt ice cold against them.
What had they done?
Chapter 9
The next morning Liam considered feigning a headache or some other ailment and staying in his room. But he knew it was pointless. He couldn’t avoid Anthony forever. (Part of him didn’t want to avoid Anthony at all.)
He had no idea how he was supposed to act around him now. He had no idea how Anthony would act. Fuck, it was such a mess. A mess of disastrous proportions. Or just a disaster, period.
Because he was a coward, Liam fetched Jules on the way to the dining room, so that he didn’t have to enter it alone.
Jules was being his cheerful, besotted self, talking about Devlin this, and Devlin that. Liam could barely hear him, his heart beating somewhere in his throat. He could barely look Jules in the eyes, irrationally afraid that it was written all over his face that he’d had Anthony’s cock in him last evening.
He’d had Anthony’s cock in him last evening.
They reached the dining room all too soon.
Liam followed Jules into the room, his legs unsteady and his pulse hammering.
“Morning,” he said, looking at Eric, who was seated to the left from Anthony. He didn’t look at Anthony, but in his peripheral vision he could see his hand on the table go still.
“Morning,” Eric mumbled into his coffee.
“Good morning,” Anthony’s deeper voice said.
Liam’s insides quivered, and for a moment he wasn’t sure he wouldn’t throw up.
Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to look at Anthony—it would seem strange if he didn’t.
Blue eyes met his, absolutely unreadable.
Liam wished he could be as composed. He felt his cheeks become warm.
Moistening his dry lips with his tongue, he gave a small nod and took the seat to Anthony’s right because Jules had taken the one next to Eric.
Jules said something. Eric said something. Jules said something back. They bantered.
Liam couldn’t hear any of it. He stared at his empty plate, all his senses painfully attuned to the man beside him.
“You should eat,” Anthony murmured, using his fork to put sausages on Liam’s plate.
Liam did as he was told, hating himself for his inability to string two words together. Part of him couldn’t believe this was really him. He was never so tongue-tied around alphas. Never.