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I shift beneath him, hooking my legs around his waist, pulling him closer, feeling the hard press of him against my core.

Liam groans, his fingers digging into my hips as he grinds against me, slow, deliberate, teasing.

I gasp, my nails digging into his back, my body arching, chasing the friction, chasing the pleasure.

"Liam," I breathe.

His lips graze my jaw, my throat, the hollow of my collarbone.

"Tell me what you need, baby," he murmurs against my skin.

I whimper, rolling my hips against him, desperate, needy, aching.

"You." My voice is breathless, wrecked. "I need you."

His gaze snaps to mine, something unreadable flashing in those dark eyes.

His lips crash against mine again, and this time, there's no teasing, no hesitation.

He kisses me like he owns me. Like he's never letting me go.

His hands trail lower, pushing the lace down my legs, leaving me completely bare beneath him.

I shiver, not from the cold but from the way he looks at me.

Like I'm something sacred, like I'm his.

I reach for him, hooking my fingers in the waistband of his pants, tugging at the fabric.

"Liam."

He smiles, slow and knowing, but his hands shake slightly as he undoes his belt, as he shoves his pants down, as he finally—finally—presses the full, aching length of himself against me.

I moan, my entire body shuddering as he drags himself against my slick heat, teasing, tormenting.

He groans, dropping his forehead to mine, his breaths hot, uneven.

"You ready for me, baby?"

I nod frantically, my fingers tightening on his shoulders.

"Say it, Ava." His voice is rough, demanding.

I shudder, my lips parting on a desperate plea.

"I want you, Liam."

That's all it takes.

He thrusts into me in one slow, deep stroke, stretching me, filling me completely.

I cry out, my back arching, my legs wrapping tighter around him, my body opening for him, taking him.

Liam groans, low and raw, his fingers bruising on my hips.

"Fuck, baby."

He stills, his breaths ragged, like he's trying to hold himself together.