And then, once she’s positioned herself on top of me, Riley starts to fucking ride me, throwing her head back and gasping between every breath as she rocks back and forth on my cock. She pushes her thighs forward, pressing them down hard onto the v-shaped bones of my hips as she starts fucking me hard, almost like she’s fighting against me.
So naturally, I return the motion, our bodies pushing together faster and faster, more and more aggressively.
But if Riley thinks she’s going to end up on top and I’m just going to lay here, she’s got another thing coming.
So as she presses her hands down onto the grooves of my abs, I grab them and use them to pull myself up into a sitting position, coming face to face with Riley as her tits press hard up against my chest.
Then, I grab her hips, holding them in place on my lap and reestablishing control, thrusting up inside Riley as she cries out and starts to squirm in my lap.
And that sexy fucking squirming motion? That’s what’s about to send me all the way over the fucking edge.
But Riley’s going to get off before I do; I’m making absolutely fucking sure of it.
Grabbing her bucking body by the shoulders, I hold Riley in place, giving her no choice but to feel every single move I make beneath her. And from the way she’s breathing, I can tell this is getting her there. I just need to make sure she gets there fast enough. So, with seconds left before I go over the edge, I do the one thing I can think of to get her across the finish line.
I wind up my hand and bring it around to smack her ass again, this time bringing my palm to her flesh at full fucking strength.
And that does it. Riley throws her head back, squeezes her eyes shut, and screams in fucking ecstasy as I grab her hips and pump into her as hard as a fucking can.
I grin up at her, taking a second to enjoy my victory.
But only a second.
Because one second later, my time comes, and I have to shut my eyes, gritting my teeth and joining Riley in a world of pure fucking ecstasy.
We start to come down at about the same time. Without saying a word, I help Riley off of my lap, and she rolls off of me, collapsing into an exhausted heap on the other side of the bed.
And, for the first time, I ask myself a pretty important question.
Where the fuck did that come from?
One second we were fighting, the next we were fucking like rabbits.
Collapsing next to Riley, I look up at the slits of light on the ceiling, trying to figure out why I just fucked my worst enemy, and more importantly, why it felt so fucking good.
But my thoughts are interrupted by the sound of Riley letting out a little laugh beside me.
“What?” I ask, rolling over to face her.
She cocks an eyebrow and smirks at me. “I came first,” she says, “You came second. As usual.”
I roll back over on my back and shake my head.
Clearly, that part of our relationship hasn’t changed.
I’m just not sure what has.
Chapter 18: Riley
I sigh as I look down at the purple dress laid out in front of me on Liam’s bed. Four short days ago, this dress was innocent, pure, fresh off the rack and ready for me to wear to the afterparty, turning every head in the room as I walked in.
But I wasn’t careful. I kept it on too long. And now, it’s been corrupted by Liam’s perverted touch.
And with the fashion show less than eight hours away, I have to put it on again. Then, I have to wear it around Liam for at least three more hours as I serve pizza to the afterparty-goers.
But I don’t need to wear it now. I still have a couple hours of preparation left. So let’s stick with sweatpants while I finish up, and I’ll cross the bridge of putting this ruined dress on when I come to it.
Of course, I can’t just blame Liam for this. I did my share of insanely dirty things while wearing the dress, too.
I’m still not sure how that happened. One second I wanted to throw Liam into a vat of piranhas, and the next second I was making out with him like we were in the back of a limo on prom night.
And what happened after that…I shudder thinking about it. But it’s a different kind of shudder than my usual reaction to Liam. There’s a little bit of my usual dislike of him…but there’s also a little bit of that heat that possessed me a couple days ago.
Shaking my head, I leave the dress where it is and head back into the apartment hallway.
Luckily, since that night, Liam and I have been completely back to normal. We’ve only had sex two and a half times in the past four days, and considering that we’re living in the same apartment and can barely keep out hands off each other for some reason, I consider that a win.
For now, I’m just chalking it up to the pressure and the fact that we’re living together and trying not to think about it.
I head into the kitchen, where another batch of the five pizza flavors that I’m bringing to the afterparty is cooking up in the oven. In a couple hours, I’m going to take these to the hotel, hand off the newest versions of the recipes to the kitchen staff, and lead them as they make a bunch of mini versions of these five recipes. Then, as the fashion show gets out, Matt is going to bring his catering setup over from Crave, and Liam and I are going to set up on a hotel roof that’s going to be full of the most prestigious fashion designers and well-paid supermodels in the world, with a couple of celebrities thrown in for good measure.
But with the hotel kitchen staff helping me, I don’t feel super nervous. That said, if I could impress the right person and get some buzz for Riley’s Pizza Kitchen’s opening in less than a month, it’d definitely take a huge load off my shoulders.
I just hope the people at this party are actually going to be hungry, and willing to stuff their faces in front of everyone else.
Because if not, I’m just going to have to find a way to make them.
When I get to the oven, I notice a text from Liam waiting for me on my phone on the counter beside it.
Ready for the last day of you thinking you’re a better cook than me?
Normally, this would be the part where I fly into a rage and text Liam a long, vulgar paragraph where I tell him that I’m better than him while insulting his dating prospects and penis size.
Too bad I can’t really do that last part anymore.
The thing is, though, this text and the other ones like it I’ve gotten over the past couple days have felt less like he’s attacking me and more like he’s flirting with me.
Is that what they always were?
No way, that’s just crazy talk. For all I know, we’re going to be hate-texting each other just like old times the second this afterparty is over.
But for now…
Talk trash all you want, jerkface. Pizza. Always. Wins. But hey, at least you’re going to have tons of fun with Anya at the fashion show!
Flipping the phone around, I snap a picture of myself rolling my eyes at the camera and attach it to the text before I hit send. There’s a lot of cleavage in the shot, which should give Liam something to take his mind off whatever lame food he’s cooking to try and compete with me.
Hey, I might as well use whatever’s going on between us to gain an advantage, right?
The oven beeps three times, signaling that the pizzas are ready, and I pull the pizza pan off the center rack and onto the stovetop to let them cool.
Then, when I think they’re ready, I grab the super-sharp pizza cutter from Liam’s knife drawer and start slicing them up. The plan is to use two of these special containers from Crave to keep them hot and fresh on the drive over to the hotel.
Unfortunately, Mr. Look-At-Me-I’m-So-Tall put them on top of the cabinets, so I have to literally climb up on the kitchen counter to reach them.
With a sigh, I set the pizza cutter in the sink and climb up onto the kitchen counter, reaching for the containers.
But I don’t make it.
Because right as my hand is inches away, the front door opens, and less than a se
cond later, Liam is standing in the kitchen doorway, his deep, coffee-brown eyes glued to my body.
“Liam?” I ask, frozen in place on the counter, “What are you doing here?”
“You just sent me a picture of your tits which was clearly an attempt to distract me from preparing for tonight,” Liam growls, “It would have worked, too, but you forgot about the part where I work five minutes away. So now, you’re going to learn a lesson about what happens when you send me pictures like that.”
With a hungry grin, Liam advances on me like a lion on the prowl, stripping off his shirt in one smooth motion and dropping it onto the kitchen floor.
And just like that, the sight of his impossibly muscular body drops my butt down on the kitchen counter with my legs wide open, powerless to stop myself from letting him take me for what feels like the millionth time this week.
At this point, it’s starting to get ridiculous. Am I ever going to be able to see him shirtless again without all my inhibitions and better judgment flying out the window?
Right now, it doesn’t feel like it.
“These fucking sweatpants,” Liam says, clamping his hands down on my thighs and digging his fingers into the fuzzy fabric, “That’s another thing. Everything I’m about to do to you? It’s going to happen every time I see you wearing these from now on.”
You know, I’m starting to think things might not be going back to normal after tonight.
Liam’s hands go from my thighs to my hips in less than one beat of my pounding heart, lifting my butt up off the kitchen counter and slowly pulling down my sweatpants. I know he could rip them off if he wanted to, but instead, he’s taking his sweet time, peeling them down my thighs as he brings his face to mine, close enough to kiss me but too far away for me to kiss him without moving my head.
He’s trying to make me give in. And I want to…badly.
But I don’t. Even though we both know what’s about to happen, part of me still wants to defy him.
And when I don’t take the bait, Liam moves in, his stubbly chin pressing against my neck as he kisses me. Meanwhile, my sweatpants are officially down on the kitchen floor and my panties are about to join them.
Liam’s mouth pulls away from my neck as he slides my panties off my ankles and starts to pull up my top. Getting it up under my arms, his head dives down to my breasts, kissing the exposed skin between the bottom of my shirt and the top of my bra.
After the way Liam was acting, I wasn’t expecting anything gentle like this; I assumed I was getting bent over the counter and fucked almost immediately. I mean, don’t get me wrong, Liam’s mouth feels disturbingly good on my skin; I’m just wondering what the catch is.
Oh, wait, I see what’s going on. It was so subtle I didn’t even feel it at first. He’s moving downward very, very slowly, holding my thighs apart as he goes.
He wants me to beg for his face to hurry up and get between my legs. And the second I realize that’s what he’s doing, my pussy ignites with need, sending urgent emergency signals up to my brain to get Liam’s mouth down there now, even if it means shamelessly begging for it.
For now, though, I think I’d rather keep my dignity. “I see what you’re doing, jerkface,” I say, smacking Liam on the shoulder, “But unlike you, I don’t have anywhere else to be right now. So go ahead, take your time.”
Liam doesn’t respond, but I feel him fight back a smile against my skin as he starts kissing me even slower.
Ugh, that bastard. This is so much worse than I was imagining, and for what feels like almost a minute, I refuse to give in.
But when Liam’s mouth finally makes it under my bra to my ribs, I just can’t take it anymore. Grabbing the back of Liam’s head and anchoring my fingers in his thick hair, I push down, lifting my thighs against his palms. “Mmh, hurry up.”
Liam’s lips pull away from the sensitive skin above my bellybutton, and his eyes dart up to look at me, mischief dancing behind them.
“Okay, fine, I get it,” I say, “You win.”
And apparently, those were the magic words.
Because as soon as they leave my mouth, Liam’s all the way down, his tongue pushing against my heat right where I wanted it.
That’s the thing about doing this with Liam. He always knows exactly what to do. Where to touch, where to kiss, when to get rough. It’s like years and years of us getting under each others’ skin prepared him for this.
I mean, it must have, because he’s been between my legs for less than two seconds, and already, I can barely think.
Gripping my hips with his huge hands, Liam pushes his face harder against me, his firm, hungry tongue travelling across every last spot I could ever want him to hit. It’s insane how quickly he’s getting me to this point; there’s still smoke coming off the pizzas a few feet away from me and my toes are curling as my heels dig into his ribs, spurring him on like a stallion.
And it works. Liam’s tongue speeds up, his pushing and probing and circling gets more and more intense. I squirm above him, hardly able to catch a breath as he works, wondering how someone I hated so much for so long could make me feel this good.
Then, his hands pull me down against the counter, his stubble tickles my thighs as he repositions his face, and I feel the muscular tip of his tongue pushing hard on my aching clit.
Up until now, I’ve been pretty good about not moaning out Liam’s name. But I do it now, as Liam’s tongue plays with my clit, rolling tight little circles into it until it feels like it’s about to explode.
Liam has me right where he wants me, and he knows it. He can hear it in the way I’m breathing, and he can probably feel it, too. He savors it for a few seconds, bringing me right up to the edge and then keeping me there once, then twice. Then, finally, he takes me over, speeding up the circles so much that my whole world ignites out of nowhere, fire blazing behind my closed eyelids as Liam finishes me off.
Crap, I think I moaned his name again. It’s not going to be fun hearing about that next time I’m trying to insult him.
But honestly, that felt so, so good that it might be worth it anyway.
Slowly, Liam pulls away, bathing me with a couple hot breaths. Then, he lets go of my hips, standing up and smirking down at me. “Just a little something to think about while you get ready for tonight.”
Oh, right, the fashion show. I literally forgot that was happening thanks to Liam’s tongue.
“I can’t believe you just did that,” I say, still trying to catch my breath.
“What did you think I was going to do?” Liam asks, his eyes still on fire as they linger on my lips.
“I don’t know,” I say, my gaze drifting down to Liam’s washboard abs, “I thought you were going to bend me over the counter and fuck me or something like that.”
I look back up into Liam’s eyes and realize what I just did.
Uh oh.
My heartbeat, which was finally starting to slow down, speeds right back up as Liam reaches over to the two pans of pizzas, picks them up, and moves them safely over to the other side of the counter.
“Wait, Liam, hold on—mmh!”
I can’t help but let out a humiliatingly high-pitched squeak as Liam flips me over mid-sentence, pressing my stomach down on the smooth granite countertop and holding my lower half in midair by my hips.
“Well,” he says, “I was just going to go back to Crave, but since you asked…”
Wrapping one thick arm around my waist to hold me up, I hear Liam’s zipper drop with the other, followed by the thump of his jeans to the floor. The sound instantly gets a response from my body, which arches itself back towards Liam as I look over my shoulder and glare at him. “Okay, but just make it quick. Some of us have things to do today.”
With a smirk, Liam brings his hand down on my ass, and, unable to help myself, I moan. Ugh, why do I like that so much? Liam’s starting to figure out how well it works, though.
And it does work.
Because now, I’m not just ready for L
iam’s cock to slide in between my legs; I absolutely need it.
“I’ll take as much time as I want,” Liam says, “And you’re going to love every second of it.”
My breath catches in my throat as I hear the crinkling of foil behind me. Then, a couple seconds later, Liam’s other hand returns to my hips, holding them up like they weigh nothing at all as he gets into position.
He’d better not tease me again by going too slow. If he does, I don’t know how I can take it.
Luckily, I think what Liam just did down between my legs affected him, too. Because as soon as he gets me at the angle he wants, his impossibly thick cock is pushing against me, parting me open and sliding inside slowly, but surely.
And as soon as I feel Liam’s length filling me up, I’m right back up to the edge again, moaning with every breath as Liam grabs the sides of my hips hard and starts to thrust, bouncing the washboard abs I was just staring at off my hips as he thrusts into me.
I guess I should have seen this coming from the second I saw him in the parking lot on my first day back to LA. Even then, when all I could think about was how much I hated Liam, I still had a reaction to his new, grown-up body.
And now that that body is currently having its way with me in any way it wants, I can’t get enough of it.
As gentle as Liam was with his tongue, he’s definitely not being gentle now. Every thrust feels like I’m getting impaled, pulled hard into the Greek god muscles of Liam’s abs as his cock slides so deep inside of me.
If you had told me even a week ago that Liam could make me feel like this, I wouldn’t have believed you.
But now, as I feel Liam lose himself in the feeling of taking me from behind…well, I still can’t believe it. But he’s not the only one losing himself right now.
Bucking my hips back against Liam, my eyes squeeze shut as he speeds up, moving his hands from my hips to the front of my thighs, and pinning my legs to his as he fucks me even deeper.
I’m not going to be able to hold out much longer, and from the way Liam shudders behind me, I don’t think he is, either.
And as Liam speeds up, thrusting harder and deeper into me than I thought was possible, even from him, I feel a massive climax round the corner, building up out of nowhere before hitting me like a train, lighting every molecule in my body on fire as my hips push hungrily into Liam’s.
Screw You, Lover: An Enemies To Lovers Romance Page 10