It’s wrong.
It’s immoral.
I should definitely stop.
But I can’t. I fucking can’t stop myself from rolling my hips against his, from biting my lip, from enjoying the feel of his hand on my breast, of his sleepy body still being turned on by mine.
There’s something severely intoxicating about feeling him be hard for me … and only me.
And the longer I go on, the more he begins to groan, even in his sleep. I’m getting all hot and bothered, and my hand dives between my legs. Even if I should, I can’t control myself anymore as I start playing with myself through the fabric of my pants.
I’ve only ever done this when I was at home, alone, never with anyone else … let alone a man’s hard-on.
It’s so bad, and it only makes me even wetter knowing I shouldn’t be doing this. But my fingers have a mind of their own as they slide up and down my slit and circle my clit until my breath becomes ragged and my brain becomes fuzzy.
Memories of him claiming my mouth invade my mind, and my lips part instinctively, desperately, yearning for that feeling again. That need to let go and submit.
And I let myself go in the moment, rolling my hips around his hard bulge until my clit swells and an explosion of ecstasy warms my body.
Right then, another groan, louder than the one before, escapes his mouth, and his dick begins to bob up and down in his pants. Again and again. Until I feel that same, warm wetness against my ass.
My eyes burst open and I roll away a little.
His pants are clearly stained.
Oh, my God.
Did I make him … come?
“Uhnnn …” he groans again, his eyelids fluttering open.
My cheeks turn red as freshly plucked strawberries.
Oh no. Oh, God no.
“What … what was that?”
“Nothing,” I mutter, and I quickly turn around again, hoping he won’t notice.
He clears his throat and brings his hand down my body, all the way to where the wetness clings to his pants.
“Hmmm …” The rumbling from deep within still makes goose bumps scatter across my skin. “Seems I got a little too excited having you in my bed.”
“What do you mean?” I mutter, pretending I don’t know what he’s talking about.
He turns me around to make me look at him. “I think you know exactly what I mean.”
He knows.
He fucking knows.
Oh, God.
The shame.
“I … I …”
Liam licks his lips, a devilish smile appearing on his face. “Did you enjoy yourself?”