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I shatter against his hand.

The pleasure slams into me like a breaking wave, stealing my breath, leaving me trembling, wrecked, gasping his name like it's the only thing anchoring me to the earth. My fingers grip his shoulders, nails biting into fabric, into him as my body tenses, then dissolves, as heat pulses low and deep and endless.

Liam groans, his mouth at my jaw, his breaths ragged and uneven. He strokes me through it, dragging every last aftershock from my body until I can barely sit upright, until I'm slack against him, my thighs shaking around his hips.

Then he lifts his fingers to his mouth and licks them clean.

Good heavens.

I barely recover from the sight before he's gripping my thighs, dragging me to the edge of the counter, pressing the hard length of him against my core.

"You're fucking soaked, Ava," he mutters, his voice dark and hungry. "I need to feel you."

My breath catches as he reaches between us, undoing his belt with a flick of his wrist, the sound of the buckle hitting the floor sending a sharp thrill through me.

"Take off your dress," he orders, voice low, rough.

I swallow, pulse hammering, but don't hesitate. My hands find the straps, push them down my shoulders, let the fabric slip from my body until I'm bare before him, the cool air raising goosebumps along my skin.

Liam groans, his hands skimming up my waist, over my ribs, his thumbs brushing the peaks of my breasts.

"Perfect," he rasps. "Every inch of you, fucking perfect."

His praise sets fire to my skin.

Then he grips himself, teasing the head of his cock against my slick heat, rubbing, pressing, but not giving me what I need.

I whimper, shifting against him, trying to take him in, but his hands clamp down on my hips, keeping me still.

"Look at you," he murmurs, his eyes molten as he watches me squirm. "Already desperate for me again."

"Liam," I plead, my voice reduced to nothing more than a whimper.

His control snaps.

With one slow, deliberate thrust, he pushes inside me, stretching me open, filling me inch by devastating inch.

I cry out, my back arching, my fingers gripping his forearms as he buries himself to the hilt, seating himself so deep, I feel him everywhere.

Liam curses under his breath, his head dropping against my shoulder as he struggles for control.

"Fuck, Ava," he groans. "You're so tight."

I loose myself to the pleasure, the slow ascent. The stretch. The overwhelming fullness of him inside me.

Then he moves.

Slow at first, dragging his cock out of me inch by inch before sliding back in deep, setting a punishing rhythm that has my head falling back against the cabinet, my mouth open in a silent gasp.

"Look at me," Liam demands.

I force my eyes open, meeting his, and the intensity in his gaze wrecks me.

"You take me so well," he murmurs, thrusting deeper. "Like you were fucking made for me."

I moan, my nails scraping down his back, my legs tightening around his waist, urging him on, more, faster, harder.

Liam grits his teeth, his grip bruising as he pounds into me, each thrust sending sparks of pleasure shooting through my veins. The counter shakes beneath us, my bare skin sliding against the cool marble, the obscene sound of our bodies colliding filling the kitchen.