Page 106 of Office Hours
He smiles, kisses my lips. “You have no idea.”
We move to the futon, not because we’re tired, but because the rug is bristly and the wine is making me floppy. The fire throws orange shapes on the walls. He touches my cheek, traces my jaw, runs a knuckle down my throat to the collarbone. I shiver, but not from cold.
“I want to take my time,” he says, and for the first time, I believe him.
He pulls my shirt over my head, then cups my face in both hands and kisses me so softly it aches. His touch is reverent, not like a worshiper, but like an astronomer who’s found a new star.
I undress him slow, wanting to remember every detail—his skin mapped with freckles, the muscle under his softness, the scar on his thigh he never talks about. I bury my face in his chest,breathe in the salt of his sweat and the smoke from the fire. He presses his lips to my temple and just holds me.
His hands move lower, palms wide and sure. I’m already wet—maybe I’ve been wet all day, the anticipation bubbling under every word, every look. He teases the waistband of my bikini bottoms, then tugs them down, discards them in a gentle, amused way that makes me laugh. I let him look. I let him see.
He slides his fingers between my legs, then pauses, asking for permission without words. I give it. He strokes, slow and patient, thumb brushing where it matters, and my hips move of their own accord.
“Fuck, you’re drenched, baby,” he rasps.
I moan a little in the back of my throat.
“I know. I need this.”
Liam grins. He knows what I like, and he gives it to me, but there’s something extra this time—a care, a steadiness that says this is not just sex, it’s a thing built on top of a hundred thousand other things.
He shifts lower, kisses the inside of my thigh, then trails up, up, until his mouth is at my center. He’s good at this. Not just technically, but emotionally—he loves the taste of my pussy, the act, the evidence of my pleasure. He moans into me, and I nearly lose it.
“Liam,” I pant. “Oh god!”
He moans into my wetness, circling my bud with his tongue before fusing his lips to my clit. I arch my back, almost screaming with pleasure, as he suckles and kisses, before lapping at my sensitive bud a few times.
“I know what you need, sweetheart,” he rasps. “Big dick.”
“Yes, I do!” I pant. “Breed me, Professor! I need it! Use my body to make yourself feel good.”
But I don’t let him up. I hold his head, fingers fisted in his hair, as he goes to town. He pins my hips with his hands and licks me through two full orgasms before coming up for air.
“Unnnnnh!” I scream, back arching as the second climax barrels through my curves, my cunt spasming around the emptiness inside. “Daddy, oooooh!”
He wipes his mouth on the back of his wrist, grins like a wolf. “You have a hungry, slutty cunt, baby girl. The kind that craves the hard fuckings that only Daddy can provide.”
I’m still panting, but I manage to laugh. “Yes, fuck me, Daddy! Fuck me hard. Trash my pussy and make me yours.”
He comes up beside me, presses against my back, his cock hard and eager. He slides into me, and I gasp at the thickness, the pressure, the way he fills me so full.
“Unnnnh,” I moan. “You’re so big and it’s so tight!”
“Shhhh,” he murmurs in my ear. “You’re taking my cock so well, sweetheart. Just let your pussy stretch.”
It’s slow at first, the kind of sex that feels like a conversation. We move together, letting it build and crest, never rushing.
He fucks me like he has all the time in the world. He kisses my neck, my shoulders, bites gently at the spot where it makes me yelp. I meet him thrust for thrust, greedy for every second, opening my legs wide as my pussy tries to swallow his cock.
“Goddamn, what a little slut,” he rasps. “You’re a bitch in heat, you know that, Simone? You must be fertile right now.”
I can’t hear because when I come again, it’s a full-body quake, my pussy dissolving into powerful spasms as I shake and scream his name. Liam follows soon after, hips stuttering, hands clutching my ass like he’ll never let go.
“Fuck!” he roars. “What a fucking slut with a cock-hungry twat! Shit shit shit!”
He collapses on top of me, all sweaty and heavy and real. We laugh, because it’s perfect, and because we’re idiots.
Eventually, he rolls off, pulls me with him so I’m draped across his chest.
