I love the feeling of him in my hand, learning every inch of him, the touches he likes the most. I love learning how he shudders when I rub my thumb over his tip, hearing him groan aloud when I trace the vein along the top or run my fingers up the underside of him. Liam moans when I reach between his legs, cupping his balls, rolling them gently in my palm as I keep stroking his length. His other hand goes to my hip, steadying himself as his own hips start to thrust into my fist.
“You can come on me,” I whisper against his mouth. “Come all over me, Liam. Mark me as yours. I’m yours—”
“Oh fuck, Ana—”
He makes a sound that’s nearly a growl, and his mouth drops to my throat as he thrusts into my hand, sucking at the soft sensitive flesh of my neck, his teeth biting into my skin as he moans. I can hear the sound of my name, his gasp as he thrusts hard, and then his cock brushing against my stomach as he sucks at my throat.
I know he will leave a mark, and I don’t care. I feel him sliding against my skin, hear his groan and feel his cock throb as he starts to come. Then I feel him, hot and sticky, as his cum spills over my stomach, trailing down to my pussy and thighs, spurt after spurt as I keep stroking him.
“Fuck,” Liam breathes, and he pulls back, my neck stinging from his teeth. My hand is still wrapped around his cock, drops of cum still spilling from his head, and he reaches down, running his fingers through the sticky trails on my skin until he’s reached my pussy.
He slides his fingers between my folds, rubbing his cum over my swollen clit, pushing his fingers inside of me as I gasp. I keep stroking him lightly as I grind against his hand, the heel of it against my clit as he pushes more of his cum inside of me.
“Come for me one more time,” he groans, his forehead pressed against mine. “I want you clenching around my fingers while my cum is inside of you.”
His arm goes around my waist as if he knows that was enough to tip me over the edge, holding me against him so that I don’t fall.
“Tell me you’re mine,” he growls, his fingers still working inside of me as I shudder against him, my clit slick with his cum as he grinds the heel of his hand against it, and I don’t know how I’m going to speak, how I can even breathe.
“Tell me, Ana,” he orders, and I gasp, my back arching so that I’m glued to him, the hot water pouring over us as his fingers thrust inside of me as deeply as they can.
“I’m yours!” I half-moan, half-whimper the words. “I’m yours, Liam, only yours, I—”
The pleasure crashes over me, pulling me under, drowning me in it, and I drop my forehead to his shoulder, panting and moaning his name as I grind against his hand, wanting more.
Wanting all of it. Everything he can give me.
When we get out, after we’ve both cleaned up, he hands me a fluffy towel, letting me dry myself off. My knees still feel weak, my feet sore from being on them all day, and I don’t argue when he picks me up again, carrying me to bed.
He lets me slide under the covers, still naked, and for once, I don’t think of Alexandre. The only thing on my mind is Liam, his handsome face as he leans down to brush his lips over mine.
When I fall asleep, the only thing I dream of is him, too.
23
ANA
The sound of my phone buzzing on the nightstand next to me invades my dreams. In my dream, it’s Liam calling me, his voice on the other line, but I can’t understand what he’s saying, no matter how many times I ask, over and over. Until the phone keeps buzzing, pulling me out of sleep into the early morning streaming in through my window.
There’s a note on the pillow next to me. I glance at it, reaching for my phone, looking at the screen quizzically. I don’t recognize the number, but I answer it anyway, thinking it must be Liam calling me from somewhere new or someone whose number he didn’t give me, checking up on me. My doctor’s office, maybe. The new physical therapist.
“Hello?” My voice is rough with sleep, catching in my throat.
The one that I hear on the other end in response makes my heart stop in my chest.
“I finally found you,petit poupée. Your number, at least. It won’t be long before I find you, too.”
I can’t breathe.
I can’t think.
It’s been a while since I’ve had a panic attack, not since the plane here from London. Still, I can feel one welling up, my pulse suddenly beating wildly in my throat as the room tilts, my throat tightening.
Oh, god–no. No, no. This can’t be real.
At the sound of his voice, it all comes rushing back. I’d pushed all the memories of him down, trying to bury them so that I could start fresh with Liam. So that we could be together. I’d told myself to forget all of it, that I couldn’t go back. That if I didn’t lose those memories, I’d lose everything.
But now it all surfaces–the good and the bad, Alexandre’s gentleness and his rages, his hands on me, bathing me, undressing me, his voice ordering me to the floor, his voice calling out my name. His hands on my throat, his hands on my body. His shouts of anger and his cries of pleasure, and his voice again, asking me not to leave him. To promise that I’d stay.