Page 109 of Gravity of Love
She was still catching her breath when he rolled onto his back and pulled her against him. When she lifted her head and gazed up at him, the look in his eyes was so open, so vulnerable, so unguarded, it caused her heart to swell.
“You’re not going anywhere,” Liam stated as if it was a fact like the sky was blue and grass was green, and this time, she didn’t want to argue.
Liam ran his hand up and down Frankie’s back, her hair falling over her face in a glossy curtain, the fire’s glow flickering over their tangled forms, while he waited for Frankie to respond to his statement that she was not going anywhere.
He wondered if she would say something snarky, make a joke, or just get up and leave to prove a point. To his utter surprise, she reached up and gently touched his face, her palm pressed to his cheek as her thumb traced the line of his jaw. Her touch was featherlight, but Liam felt it like a current pulling him out to sea.
The air was thick with the scent of sex and smoke from the fire and soap from the shower, an intoxicating cocktail hewanted to bottle and keep. He’d lost track of how many times he’d imagined her like this, naked and flushed, eyes still glassy with pleasure, every line of her body highlighted in the soft, warm, flickering light from the fireplace. The reality, as always, was so much better than he’d ever imagined.
But he knew he’d pushed his luck. There was a good chance she’d get up and leave. His head had been up his ass the past week, and if she didn’t want anything to do with him, he couldn’t blame her. He was grateful, at least, she’d allowed him to give her one last parting gift of pleasure, even if this was the end. For now. For tonight.
He didn’t realize he’d been holding his breath until she leaned up and pressed her lips to his and he exhaled in relief.
It wasn’t a verbal response, but she’d answered him.
Frankie kissed him, slow and deep. He tasted the salt of her skin and the tang of her arousal on his tongue as it mixed with her saliva, and something inside him snapped and broke wide open. She pressed her body to his, her breasts soft against his side. He traced her spine, memorizing each vertebra and the way she shivered as his fingertips grazed the small of her back, lower as he flexed over her firm ass cheeks and she moaned into his mouth.
He started to move, but she pushed against his chest and straddled him with a suddenness that stole his breath and shocked him. Her inner thighs pressed against his hips as she sat proudly atop him. His eyes travelled over the faint constellation of freckles sprinkled on her shoulders, down the swell of her perfect, beautifully formed, creamy breasts. The sight of her, wild and hungry and beautifully unguarded, was almost too much. For a man who prided himself on restraint, on being in control, he’d never felt so completely at someone else's mercy.
She ran her hands down his sides, her nails skating over his ribs, then lower past his abs. He sucked in a breath as shewrapped her fingers around the base of his cock, the touch both casual and devastatingly purposeful. He felt himself surge in her grip, impossibly ready, and her eyes lifted to his as a smile spread on her face.
“Frankie,” he said her name in a warning.
“Shh,” she dismissed him as her hips lifted up and she lined his mushroom tip up to her sex, her thighs trembling as she positioned herself above him.
For a heartbeat, she hovered, her hand stroking him in gentle, greedy pulses, the head of his cock gliding slickly beneath her palm. She braced one hand on his chest, fingertips digging into his skin, and looked down, her eyes fixed on where their bodies would meet.
His heart beat erratically as carnal ache built in him. She took him in slow—so slow it bordered on torture. The first inch stole his breath, the heat and suction of her almost too much. Every muscle in his body locked, but he forced himself to stay still, to let her set the pace.
Frankie exhaled, her lips parting as she rocked her hips, taking him deeper with each movement. Her head fell back, hair spilling down her spine and brushing against his thighs, and a small, ragged sound escaped her throat as her inner walls clamped around his shaft. His balls tingled as they tightened against his body.
He gripped her thighs, holding her steady, feeling them quiver like a tuning fork. Her skin was impossibly soft and warm, and she felt perfect—so impossibly perfect—around him. Liam watched, utterly transfixed, as she continued sinking down on him, inch by inch, the muscles in her legs flexing under his touch, her back arching so that her breasts strained, her nipples’ beaded knots begging for his attention.
He could see the swelling flush rise up her chest to her face, the shine of sweat at the hollow of her throat. The sight of hisstraining shaft disappearing inside of her as her tight, velvet walls contracted around him was almost more than he could handle. He wondered if she had any idea how much power she wielded over him.
When she sank all the way down, her thighs flush against his hips, she paused, and her chin dropped to her chest. For a second, she just stayed like that, head bowed, breathing hard through her nose. Her snug canal clenched and released around his member, as if her body was trying to pull him even deeper, greedily wanting more of him. Liam wanted to thrust up, to give them both what they wanted, but he held back, knuckles whitening as he dug his fingers into her skin.
“Fuck, you feel…” her voice trembled as her words trailed off and she rolled her hips, and he almost lost it.
Not able to sit back and be a passive participant but not wanting to take over completely, he sat up, snaked one arm around her back, and fisted the other in her hair to pull her in for a kiss. She met his mouth, hungry and hot, biting his lower lip until he groaned.
Her legs automatically wrapped around his waist, and she started to move, rolling her hips in a slow, mesmerizing rhythm. Liam could do nothing but hold on as every nerve ending in his body lit up, raw and newly exposed. She set a punishing pace, grinding down with every thrust, her hands braced on his shoulders for leverage. He could feel the tension building in her, the way her breath hitched as she found the angle she liked best. The friction was incredible, the wet heat of her all-consuming, and he couldn’t help but match her, his hips lifting to meet each stroke.
Their bodies moved together so perfectly it felt choreographed, and Liam lost himself in the sensation—the drag of her tightness, the ripple of her muscles as she clenched around him, and the insistent heat pooling at the base of hisspine. His hand grasped her ass, massaging her cheeks, helping her keep the rhythm. She broke their kiss, and her head fell back. She was beautiful, wild, and unfiltered, and if he died right then, he’d do it with a stupid, satisfied smile on his face.
He could feel her getting close. The way she moved faster, more frantic, her nails digging into his skin as if to anchor herself to reality. She whimpered, a sound that might have been his name, and it lit up every predatory instinct he had as her body milked him. He shifted, planting his heels in the rug, driving up into her just enough to hit the spot that made her eyes roll back. She clamped down on him in response, and he felt himself unravel, fiber by fiber.
His gaze locked on her face as he watched the pleasure build until it threatened to break her. He wanted to see her lose control, to know he was the one who did that to her.
The friction of her inner walls pulsating around him felt almost too good. When her arousal began to leak from the base of his cock and onto his balls, a groan ripped from his chest. His fingers moved between her cheeks to her most forbidden area. He could feel the tension in Frankie's body as surely as if it were his own. He wanted to claim her, to make her feel something she’d never felt before. His middle finger began to rub the puckered area in the center of her backside, going where she’d joked on their hike,no man had ever gone before. As soon as he did, her thighs began to tremble. He pushed his finger, adding pressure to the forbidden spot and her stomach contracted violently. He felt her entire body going up and over the edge, he pulsed the pressure of his finger, causing her to cry out in pleasure.
As soon as he did, her thighs began to tremble. He pushed his finger, adding pressure to the forbidden spot and her stomach contracted violently. He felt her entire body going up and overthe edge, he pulsed the pressure of his finger, causing her to cry out in pleasure.
Her muscles went from taut to trembling, her entire body convulsed against him as her climax threatened to pull them both under. She gasped, shuddering, and for a moment he thought she'd collapse, but then she clung to his shoulders and rode out the aftershocks, her body spasming around him in seismic, powerful waves.
As he watched her ride out her release, the only thing going through his mind was that he wanted this night, this to be a part of her very existence. He wanted to rewrite the electric pathways of her memory so that when she was a hundred years old, half-lucid in a retirement home somewhere, she’d still remember being with him, remember the feel of his mouth and hands, and the taste of unfiltered wanting sparking between them. He wanted her to know, in every cell, that she’d been worshipped. He wanted to infuse her DNA with his, to imprint on her soul. To brand her subconscious.
Liam kissed her jaw, her temple, and the sweat-damp hair at her brow and waited for her to come back to herself. He wanted it to last, wanted this suspension of time where every sense flooded through her to be drawn out as long as possible. But as her peak subsided, he could feel the overspill of his own need—sharp, hot, and bottomless.
