For the first time, I see her entirely, completely naked, and she’s every bit as beautiful as I could have imagined, perfect in every way. I can see the scars on her hips and outer thighs from where Alexei whipped her, the thin lines of scar tissue, but they don’t make her any less lovely to me. And she’s too overcome with desire to think about it, I can tell.
Her blue eyes fixed squarely on mine, almost defiantly. Very slowly, she spreads her thighs apart as she sits on the edge of the bed, just enough for me to see the soft pink flesh of her pussy, already glistening wet with desire for me.
“Wider.” My voice comes out rough, choked with need. “I want to see you spread open for me, Ana.”
She blushes, hesitating, and I narrow my eyes at her. “You wanted this. Spread wider for me, as wide as you can, if you want to watch me.”
“Yes, sir.” The words slip from her mouth, and my eyes widen slightly in response. I hadn’t expected her to say that, but it sends a bolt of desire through me, another trickle of pre-cum sliding down my shaft as my shaft throbs in my fist.
As I watch, she opens her thighs, spreading them wider than I would have actually thought possible—but she was a ballerina, after all. She holds my gaze as she does so. The combination of the wanton, deliberate opening of her legs for me combined with the way her face flushes with shy embarrassment is like my own personal sexual kryptonite—and I hadn’t even known it until right this minute.
My hand starts moving of its own volition, slowly stroking the length of my cock from balls to tip and back down, my hips jerking forwards with the intense pleasure of it. It’s an effort to hold back—I could come on the spot with just a few swift, hard strokes, but I want to draw it out, to watch her.
“Open yourself up for me,” I tell her, my breath coming faster as I squeeze my shaft again, trying to hold back my arousal. “Spread yourself with your fingers while you rub your clit for me.”
Ana reaches down slowly, her pink-painted fingertips opening up the soft folds of her pussy as I watch, so that I can see every bit of her, from the tiny hard clit at the very top to her drenched entrance, her folds swollen with arousal. I can see how much she wants me, how turned on she is, and it only fuels my own need until I feel as if I can barely think. I can see it, smell it, remember clearly how she tastes. I want her so fucking badly that it takes everything in me not to cross the room, push her back on the mattress and shove my cock so deeply into her that it’ll erase the memory of any other cock that’s ever been inside of her.
“Fuck—” I groan aloud as she starts to circle her clit with her fingertip, her eyes resting hungrily on my cock as she presses her finger down.
“I want to taste you.” She looks up at me, her eyes wide and begging. “Let me suck it for you at least, Liam, please—”
“No.” I shake my head, the word coming out hoarse and strangled becausegod,do I want her to suck my fucking cock. I want her on her knees, my cockhead pushed against the back of her throat. I want to coat her fucking tongue with my cum until she forgets the taste of anyone else. “No touching, Ana, except for yourself.”
I can see the flicker of disappointment in her eyes. Still, she nods, leaning back a little as she holds herself open with her left hand, exposing all of that swollen, pink, wet flesh for my gaze as she gently rubs her clit with her index finger, up and down, back and forth, and then in faster and faster circles as I stroke my length and watch her.
I’ve never seen anything so incredibly erotic in my entire life. It’s better than porn, better than anything I’ve ever laid eyes on. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to come to anything else ever again after seeing Ana spread open on my bed, masturbating for me while I watch.
I’m entirely, completely hers.
19
ANA
This wasn’t what I had wanted. I’d wanted to touch Liam, to kiss him, tumble into his big bed together and do all the things that I know we’re both craving. But he’d told me no, and I’d been so desperate to share any part of his arousal with him, to not be kicked out while he handled it himself alone, that I’d begged him to let me watch.
I’d hoped he’d give in, that he’d be so overcome with need that he’d let it go further than just that. But now, as he watches me display myself for him, I’m almost glad this is how it went.
I’d missed the nights I’d spent watching Alexandre, the tension, the excitement, the taboo eroticism of it all. But that had been scary too, a secret that I could have come to regret if his reaction to me eventually going into his room had been different. He’d had the power to hurt me, to punish me, and Liam doesn’t have that same power—unless I give it to him.
Everything between Alexandre and I had been uneven. He’d had all the power in the relationship, and I’d had none. But with Liam and I, it’s different.
I can leave right now if I want to. I can go back to Manhattan and never speak to him again. I can stay here until I get on my feet and keep a distance between us.
Or I can sit here, my fingers between my legs while he strokes himself for me at an increasingly frantic pace, and let things build between us until they eventually explode, one way or another.
I want him so badly that it aches in every part of me, so badly that I’m starting to wonder if I’m beginning toneedhim as well. I’m beginning to wonder if I could ever stand to let him go, if I’ll ever be able to leave. To the very depths of my soul, I want to put everything that happened in Paris behind us and start fresh. Because I know now that I can’t go back. I was happy with Alexandre for a time, forourtime, and I’m going to have to find a way to take those few good memories and put them away somewhere secret and safe, so that I can move on.
If I went back to him now, it would never be the same. He’d saved me, briefly, in his own way—but Liam has saved the very core of me, the part of me that was once my own person. He’s given me a way to find myself again, while still embracing the parts of me that I’ve discovered along the way in a new, better way.
He’s so fucking handsome.I want to touch him so badly, watching him stand there fully, gorgeously nude, the muscles of his abdomen flexing as his hand strokes the length of his thick cock, glistening with his own arousal. I can see how his jaw is clenched, trying to hold back, the tension in his thighs. I want to run my hands over every inch of him, trail my tongue up his inner thighs, take him in my mouth and taste him all over again. I want him to pick me up and toss me back on the bed, drive himself into me and make me his, and the craving for all of it, for all ofhim,feels as if it runs deeper than anything I’ve ever felt before.
But he’d said no.No touching except for yourself, Ana.And part of me is aroused ten times over by his eyes on me, watching me, demanding that I display myself for him. My clit feels exposed and sensitive, the nerves electric with pleasure as I rub my finger over it, holding myself open so that he can see every intimate inch of the flesh between my thighs. Iwanthim to see, to see my finger stroking the hard little bundle of nerves and wish it was his finger, his tongue on me, to see my drenched entrance and want to thrust his cock into me, fuck me deep and hard until it’s only his name that I ever scream again.
I want to tell him all of that, how I feel, but I can’t find the right words. Not yet.
Liam groans, squeezing his cock in his fist again as his hips jut forward, his cock pointed at me as he takes a step forward and then another, his hand moving faster now. My heart leaps in my chest, thinking that he’s going to touch me, but he stops just a few inches away, close enough that if I reached out, I could wrap my hand around him.
He sees the look on my face, and I know he can tell what I’m thinking.