Kensley

 

It was a picture-perfect day, but now I’m nervous for the next.

The part of the sleepover that entails Liam and I sleeping in the same bed.

I’d only ever been with Mark, and ending our relationship, knowing that he’d been cheating on me for God knew how long, and hearing the words spill from his mouth…

Regardless of what Liam told me, that Mark’s words were a reaction to being caught…

It’s hard to keep those words locked down.

But I’m going to try hard to keep my attitude positive.

With Liam’s hand in mine, I turn and pull him toward his bedroom. My heart is beating wildly in my chest, and it takes work to take even, deep breaths, but I’m trying.

Inside, I attempt to pull my hand from his, but he just holds it a little tighter, taking the time to close the bedroom door behind him. I can hear as he turns the lock over, and I swallow hard. This is happening.

“Nothing, and I do mean nothing,” he says then, tugging on my hand until I’m flush to him, “happens if you don’t want it to. I’m good with cuddles.”

He says it so seriously…

I mean, look at him.

Hard jaw. Pretty boy looks. A body that would make any girl go crazy.

And he’s good with cuddles.

How the hell had I lucked out, and found him?

“I want to be with you,” I say softly. “I’m scared,” it needs to be repeated, “but I also trust you. I feel stupid saying that, because—”

Liam cups my jaw, his thumb resting over my lips. “There’s nothing stupid with that, Kensley.” He brushes his thumb gently over my lips and I find myself licking them, the tip of my tongue unintentionally touching his skin.

My mouth parts open on a startled gasp.

The need and want is evident on Liam’s face, even in the dark.

I’ve never been a “lights on” gal, but I want to see him.

Every part of him.

However, I don’t exactly know how to ask; maybe he likes the lights off. Maybe he—

“What are you thinking about, Kensley?” He slides his hand from my jaw to my hair, pulling just enough to make me look up at him.

I go with it.

“The lights. I want to see you,” I answer, brazenly.

His hand tightens in my hair and his groan…

Shoot, his answering groan is enough for me to feel the heat between my thighs.

In an instant, his mouth is on mine and, before I feel his other hand moving to my back, the room is illuminated. I can’t even focus on that though, not when he has a hand in my hair, the other on my back, and he’s walking me backward toward his bed.

When my knees hit the mattress, it’s clear we’re on the same page. Without breaking the kiss, I’m scooting back and he’s crawling over me, until we’re near the top of his bed. I’m resting on my side and he is too, our mouths not letting up. His tongue feels like velvet over mine. I can taste the pepperoni from the pizza we shared with the girls earlier, but all of these thoughts are quick. Fleeting. Hardly more than a thought in my mind, because I’m so entirely focused on everything else.

His hand, running down over my neck, my shoulder.

His thumb, brushing the side of my breast before resting on what was once the dip of my waist. His hand doesn’t sit there long though; soon he’s rubbing circles over my waist, dropping back to my back and holding me there as he pushes himself closer.

My eyes are heavy, and it’s so easy to lose myself in his kiss, but I force my eyelids open as he pulls back from the kiss. He presses wet, biting kisses to my jaw, then to my neck.

His bite there is gentle—so gentle, I don’t imagine it will leave a mark—but it’s his answering sweep of tongue over the spot that has my breath shuddering from my mouth.

Then, he’s pressing kisses over my shirt-covered shoulder, and I just want the fabric gone.

I reach for the hem of his own shirt, hoping it will get the message across. When my fingertips brush over the muscle-cuts of his hips, I hear his quick intake of breath.

He’s pulling away from me, reaching up behind his head, and before I know it, his perfect upper body is completely exposed.

Tight chest muscles, sprinkled with a light smattering of hair. I’d assumed he would be the type to wax, but I’m surprisingly grateful to see he doesn’t.

I want to feel that course hair against my over-sensitive nipples.

I also expected him to rock a six-pack, but I can only make out four.

For whatever reason, that makes him so much more normal.

I need normal right now.

It makes this instant attraction that much more plausible.

“How’s your back?” His voice is rough and he’s staring down at me. His pupils are taking up nearly the entire green irises and I know if I reach out to his jeans, I’ll find his hard length.

I’m afraid to look, though.

Afraid to see his desire.

It’s one thing to see it written on his face, but I’m terrified of what the rest of his body will look like. Will he be hard and beautiful, but deflate the moment my belly is exposed? Maybe he’ll be fine until he pulls down my panties. Maybe…

“Kensley.” His voice snaps me back to now and I refocus my eyes.

He leans down then, his arms bracing himself on either side of me, and he places the gentlest of kisses to my lips. “You and me, baby,” he whispers against me.

“Yes.” I push the nasty words echoing in my mind, away. Far, far away.

What I was feeling, right here, right now, with Liam, wasn’t anything I’d ever felt with Mark. Well, maybe right at the beginning, but those feelings at seventeen were a world’s width different than there were now, at twenty-four.

“Are you still okay on your back? Or are we switching things up?” Liam pushes away from me, his arms still on either side of me. His arms are well-muscled, and the lines and divots are on display.

God, I want that strength to surround me.

“Sometimes,” I finally answer. “Sometimes I’m okay on my back. We can… We can start there.”

“You’ll tell me if you’re uncomfortable.” It was a gentle command, and I nod.

Then, his full lips are to mine again and I’m rolling to my back. My shoulders have barely landed, and his hands are at the bottom of my shirt, pushing up.

I figured he’d be a slow one; one of those guys who drags your shirt up, inch by slow, torturous inch, but he pushes it up quickly.

Maybe so I can’t change my mind.

Not that I would. Not now.

My shirt is quick to join his on the floor, and I’m left on his bed in yoga pants that are luckily still the high-waisted kind and not the maternity ones—although that’s going to have to change soon—and a high-intensity sport bra.

When I dressed this morning, it wasn’t with undressing in mind.

My boobs have always been incredibly sensitive in pregnancy, and any brush of them either sends me to pain, or, in the case of Liam, pooling in my panties.

So, I kept those babies plastered down.

“Shit, Kensley,” Liam mumbles, and I bring my head up to try to see what he sees.

All that I see is black cotton and polyester-covered boobs, and a belly that seems to get bigger by the moment.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he continues, and I laugh skeptically.

“Are you one of those guys who gets off on pregnant ladies?” I joke. “Because you really haven’t seen anything here.”

He dips in again, running his nose up the side of my face until his mouth is right over my ear. “I get off on you.”

I bite my lip, picturing just that, in the literal sense. I haven’t even seen his cock yet, but I can imagine him fisting himself, thinking about me…

“Me too,” I admit quietly, turning my face into his. I close my eyes as I nuzzle his cheek. “Well, on you,” I finish, and his answering kiss is done with a smile on those very lips.

“You touch yourself, Kensley?” he asks against my lips.

“Not so much this last week. Baby gets in the way.”

“That’s so fucking hot.” His kiss is hard now, demanding. I hardly get my hands to his face to hold him near, before he’s pulling back. “Let me see what your fingers have been playing with.”

When his fingers dip into the high band of my yoga pants, I brace my heels to the bed and lift as he pulls. He grabs my panties on the way, pulling everything down and out of the way.

My first thought, is that I haven’t remembered to shave in a bit. God, I hope I’m not too messy down there. Maybe stubbly. Fuck, I hope it’s just stubble down there.

He doesn’t say anything about it though; must not be as no-man’s land as I fear it being. Still though, I worry.

“I should probably schedule an appointment,” I find myself saying out loud. It’s the nerves talking. “I’ve never been waxed though. But I can’t reach—”

Liam presses a kiss to my inner thigh, and my pussy clenches.

I also shut up.

“Look at you,” he says, his fingers holding my pussy lips apart. “Pink and glistening. For me. For, fucking, me.” He sounds at awe with that. Then, he takes his other hand and runs a finger down over me. My hips buck lightly against the bed.

“And so fucking swollen, too.” His finger is circling my entrance, and I can feel how tight I am down there. “So swollen,” he repeats before pushing his finger into me.

“Oh,” I say on a deep breath, my eyes closing and my head turning on the pillow.

“Yeah. You like my finger in you, Kensley?” He draws the digit out slowly before pushing back in. I can feel him turn his hand so that his finger curls up against my swollen walls.

“Mmm,” is my only answer. I don’t have coherent words right now.

He slowly finger fucks me, and when I manage to open my eyes, I see that he’s up on his elbows, pushed up so he can watch my face. When our eyes lock, he gives me that cocky half grin of his, before lowering his mouth to me.

“Oh my God,” I breath out when his lips close over my clit. Like with his finger, he’s slow and takes his time. Slow sucks. Slow, flat brushes of his tongue. Slow circles with the very tip of his tongue.

“Liam.” My voice is breathless and one I don’t recognize.

My hands need to be full of something, so I fist the sheets beside me, grabbing tight as I resituate my heels. My knees are up and dropped, with my hips pressed close to Liam’s face.

“More, Liam.” It’s nearly a whine, but I can’t be embarrassed over it. This is nothing I’ve experienced before. This is…

More.

I swallow hard and wish like hell I could pull up on my forearms and watch him, but my damn belly…

Sorry, baby, I apologize for my thoughts.

Liam keeps his mouth pressed to me and, with the hand that was holding my folds open for his penetrations, wraps his arm around my thigh. But then his finger leaves me too, and I cry out at the loss.

“Hold on, baby,” he mumbled, his words causing small puffs of breath against my sensitive skin. I’m not quite sure what he’s telling me to hold on for, but when his hand, with the finger that was just inside of me, lands on my fisted one, I relax my hold on the sheets and, in turn, grab his hand.

And then his mouth is really going at me.

Fast flicks of his tongue over my clit.

Dipping into my swollen entrance.

Sucking, and sucking hard.

It’s when his hard suck to my clit becomes a pulsing one, that I can’t hold back my orgasm. I grasp his hand tightly to mine and push my hips up—which his other arm fights to push down—as I’m flying over the edge, pulsing and pooling and thighs shaking.

“Liam!” His name is said on a gasp, and I pray it wasn’t loud enough to wake the girls.

My body is still fighting to calm down, and he’s only starting to let up down there, his tongue back to its lazy tracing, as if he’s trying to calm me down only to send me over again.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he whispers, then presses a kiss to my inner thigh, the other inner thigh, and then he’s climbing up over me again, careful to not put weight on my belly. When he presses his lips to mine, I can taste my saltiness on his tongue.

“I taste me,” I tell him, which only serves to make him grin.

“You taste good.”

I open my mouth to refute it, but he’s shaking his head. “Believe me.”

So, I did. “I do.”

Liam Ryan Hardt made it difficult not to.

“You still okay?”

“Better than.”

He chuckles roughly and kisses my cheek, in front of my ear, then between my eyes. “I meant with your back.”

“Oh.” I can feel myself blushing. “Yes.” I had the slightest twinge of discomfort, but I’d be good for a little while longer. This was where I wanted to be.

“You good with more?”

More would mean sex.

And I was not leaving this room until I felt Liam’s cock driving into me.

“Absolutely.”

He’s grinning again as he kisses me, and I feel as he moves to lay beside me, his hand on my rib cage so his thumb can slip under the tight band of my sport bra. He’s barely grazing the underside of my breast, and I know that their oversensitive-selves are going to my end game.

I’ll probably come, easily at that, if he put his mouth to them.

“This contraption is tight,” he says then, breaking the kiss and leaning up on his forearm. “How the hell do your boobs breathe in this?”

He slips his hand to my side, his entire hand managing to move up and under the confining material.

“They’re sensitive,” I tell him. “Moving hurts. Sawyer playing with the neck of my shirt, hurts.”

Liam’s frowning now. “Me touching them, does that hurt?”

“God, no. You touch them and it’s like a switch is flipped.”

His hand is free of the band, and even though my skin is covered, I miss the heat of his hand.

“So, when I do this…” He gently brushes his hand over the peaks of my breasts, sending waves of pleasure through me.

“Yeah,” I moan.

“And if I were to move past you in the house, close enough where I could cop a feel…” His hand his cupping my left breast and his thumb rubs over the well-covered tip of my nipple, sending even more waves of pleasure through me. So much more, that I’m ready to come again.

This sport bra is so freaking tight, it’s nearly impossible to see or feel when my nipples are tight—I know; I’ve touched myself at night wearing this sport bra—but Liam zeroed in on them, no problem at all.

“Yes.”

Like his hand and mouth before, he teases me with his thumb over the tight peak and I know…there’s no way I’m going to last.

“Liam,” I try scolding but because it’s paired with a moan, there’s absolutely no heat to it.

“Your body is so fucking responsive.” There’s awe in the tone of his voice. Like he’s surprised.

“Are they always like this?” He asks, his eyes on mine as he brushes his thumb over and around my nipple again.

I shake my head. “No. I don’t think so. Just when pregnant.” My body never reacted like this between my pregnancy with the girls, and honestly, Mark never paid much attention to my body other than the whole stick-his-dick-in-me part.

“Huh.” Again, he brushes over my nipple, and before I can analyze that answer, he dips his head to press an open, wet kiss over my other covered nipple.

“Liam!” I grip his hair in my hands but don’t pull him back. If anything, I hold him closer.

“Shhh,” he laughs, then that open mouth kiss turns into a scraping of his teeth. Fuck. If my response now was an indication of how my body would react without cotton covering my sensitive parts…

Shoot, this was going to be a long night.

A wonderful night.

But long.

One thing I know about Liam, it is that he’s tenacious. He will not stop at a second orgasm.

And damn, but the thought excites me.

“Off. Take it off,” he commands, pushing up to his knees. “I ain’t got patience or skills to wiggle you out of that trap.” He sounds so serious, but his face is comically concerned.

Still though, he’s ever the gentleman and, when he swings his knee over and he moves to stand beside the bed, he still takes the time to reach for my hand and help me sit up. I turn so I can sit on the side of the bed and cross my arms in front of me, intending on pushing past my slight fears and pulling the bra off, but Liam’s hands at the button of his jeans has me faltering.

And of course, he notices.

His hands still after the button is free, and his fingers are on his zipper. “You still good?” That facial concern is now in his voice.

“You’re sweet,” I say, instead of anything that could remotely pass as sexy.

Calling him sweet?

So not sexy.

His grin is crooked, and he slowly pushes down his zipper. I’m torn between watching the slow drag down and keeping my eyes on his. “Because I don’t want to massacre your boobs? Because that’s what would happen if I tried to pull that off right now. It’s too damn tight.”

I look down, my own grin also crooked, and shake my head as I take them in, seeing them as he sees them. “You would not ‘massacre’ my boobs.”

“Oh. I would. On accident. But I would.” He’s unzipped now and hooks his thumbs in the top band. “Now, off.”

When he bends to push down his jeans, and all I can see is the strong expanse of his back as he’s bent forward, I wiggle my sport bra up and off. It’s not a beautiful act, not when my boobs are heavy with pregnancy and desire. They fall from their confines and I drop the bra to the floor. I’m having a hard time looking up at Liam though, keeping my gaze locked on his feet.

For whatever reason, I was fine with him and I when his lower half and my chest were covered, but now that we’re both completely naked…

It’s real.

Never mind the fact I’ve already come once, and nearly a second time.

But now, it’s all all-to-real.

This is happening.

And once again, the nerves start to set in.

“Kensley.”

I swallow, gathering myself, and slowly bring my eyes up—over his strong thighs, to the strong, thick cock that’s jutting out from his body, over the partial washboard abs thing he’s got going on, up, up, up…

“Lay down, Kens.” His voice breaks, just slightly. I do as he says, scooting back to where I was just lying. Then he’s crawling over me, leaving lingering kisses to the top of my breasts, as he moves to lay beside me.

Before I can turn to my side to face him, he reaches across me to palm my hip, rolling me. Apparently, we’re just going to do some naked making out right now, and I’m finding I’m okay with that.

He’s easing me into everything, even though I’ve said I was—and am—all in.

I like the way he kisses me though.

The way his hands dance over my skin.

When he goes in for the kiss, I bring my mouth to his but before our lips meet, he makes a demand. “Touch me.”

I swear, I’m not being deliberately obtuse when I put my hand to his stomach, my fingers dragging into the grooves of his abs.

“My cock, Kensley. Grab me. I gotta feel your hand. Give me your hand, baby. Please.”

With my eyes locked on his, I slowly drag my fingers down, over the slight happy trail, lingering into the course hair covering him.

“Fuck, Kens.”

When I grip him at the base, his hips jerk, and before I can smile at the heady power I have on him, he’s kissing me.

Finally.

Again.

I move my fist to the tempo he sets in my mouth.

Our tongues dance as our legs tangle, and my hand glides up and down his length. Hard squeezes, short pumps. His velvety length in my hand is amazing. I’m finding myself to be a completely different sexual being.

I didn’t participate much with Mark, especially this last year or two.

This…this give and take that Liam and I are doing?

This is what sex dreams are made of. It’s what makes a woman feel like she has a true place beside her man.

Liam puts his hand over my breast, his palm pressing into my nipple. The initial touch has my hand squeezing him harder, but then he just rests his hand there, hard. Like he’s calming a scared animal. Holding. Waiting for the moment that the pleasure dissipates.

I don’t even bother asking what he’s doing.

I’m having too much fun kissing him back, breathing in his taste.

I push my leg between his more, wishing I could get closer. It’s then that I realize I’ve been neglecting a part of him…

I wonder if the head of his cock is as sensitive as they’re all said to be.

I pump him again but this time, at the top, I swirl my thumb over his tip, sweeping around the drip of moisture rolling there, and his cock jerks in my hand and he moans into my mouth.

Oh yes.

He likes.

Taking my time there, I rub my thumb around the softer head of him, and then run it around the base of his tip.

Liam pulls his mouth from me. “Fuck, Kensley. Again.”

My body is heated, and my mouth is open—the only way I’m able to bring in air right now. I watch his face intently as I play on the underside of his cock, where the head meets shaft. Liam’s body visibly shudders and it’s as if his neck gets thicker, the veins are protruding. He closes his eyes and his breathing…

Shoot, his breathing puts mine to shame.

“Shit, Kens. Okay. Yeah.”

I slow my ministrations, and he brings his now open eyes back to mine.

“I wonder how you’d react if it was my tongue playing right there?” I boldly say.

He takes no time in answering. “I’d fucking blow in your mouth.”

My smile is only starting to widen, but Liam doesn’t let any thoughts occur. “Not tonight. Not tonight, Kensley,” he repeats, as if I missed it the first time he said it. “I’m coming in you tonight.” He’s thrusting his hips slowly against my hand, and I’m curious if he realizes it, or if it’s an involuntary thing. “This time. Fuck. This time. Baby, no more.” He groans as he backs his hips up, and he slips from my grasp.

“Shit. Fuck.” Then he’s leaning over the bed, digging through his nightstand. “I’ve only fucking got two. Two fucking condoms,” he groans. He rips off one and has it open and on himself before I can get a word in. “This time isn’t gonna be graceful, Kensley. I’m sorry. Next time though…”

I’m too amused with him to say anything. Instead, I spread my legs and allow him to settle between them.

He grips his cock and runs it down my folds. “Still good? The baby, your back?”

“Still good,” I whisper.

“Okay. Good.” The words sound more like a reassurance to himself.

Like I said.

He’s sweet.

But then he’s pushing his thick girth into me, and sweet is the very last thing on my mind.