Page 107 of The Savior

This was what he needed. As much as he had to hold her hand, he had to make her orgasm.

Liam played with her, dancing around her clitoris and spreading her as he explored.

Every touch, every tease, every single fucking time he tried a different pressure and pace, she rewarded him with hungry groans.

Slowly, he tested her entrance with a finger, mesmerized. Chelsea buried her face in his neck, nipping then stilling as he pressed deeper inside.

“More,” she whispered, and her legs jerked against the confines of her pants.

Never had he slowed down and watched a woman give herself to pleasure.To him.

Chelsea arched. Her muscles clenched and relaxed. Her hips flexed. “This is so very…”

“Good,” he answered. It was for both of them. Liam pumped in and out.

Her arousal spread over his knuckles, glistening in the dim back-seat light, and he added another finger, easy and slow, faster and deeper.

Chelsea lifted her hips. Her lips parted, breaths gasping with every tightening, winding thrust. She moaned and writhed, finally gripping his forearm until she rode against his fucking hand as if he were her toy.

Lust had him by the balls. He needed her pussy to quake.

“Please, God,” Chelsea cried. “Liam. Please.”

His world revolved around hearing his name again. He pumped into her pussy until his forearm flexed with fire and force.

Chelsea gasped and murmured, “Liam,” calling it repeatedly until he couldn’t hear a word over her moans. She gripped his fingers, and her other hand dug into his chest, choking on his name.

Every time he thought he had a handle on her, she reminded him that he didn’t know jack shit about how hard he was falling. Hallelujah for that.

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