Clara was on the bed, lying on her stomach with her hips raised, her blonde hair falling across the pillow beneath her face.

The robe was completely gone at this point, discarded somewhere on the floor.

The position left nothing to the imagination and she knew it, her cheek pressed against the white linen, her eyes looking sideways at the wall because looking directly at him felt like too much right now.

Liam was standing at the edge of the bed.

His dick was fully hard, practically moving on its own, and he looked down at it briefly. ’Calm down,’ he thought. ’Give me two seconds.’

He looked back at her.

Her pussy was right there, pink and glistening, still wet from everything that had happened before, the lips slightly swollen and soft.

He looked at it the way someone looks at something they have been waiting on for a very long time.

Clara shifted slightly. "Are you going to keep staring or are you actually going to do something. This is getting embarrassing."

Liam smiled. "Is that really why you want me to go ahead? Because you’re embarrassed?"

She turned her face further into the pillow. "Yes. That’s all. What other reason would there be."

"Hm." He stepped closer to the bed. "I have a feeling you just love my dick."

"That’s not why."

"Sure."

"It’s not."

"Okay, Clara."

She turned her head and looked at him over her shoulder. "It’s not."

He didn’t say anything to that.

He just reached down and took himself in his hand and pressed the head of his dick against her, not pushing in, just resting there against her pussy, dragging it slowly upward and back down.

Clara’s whole body shuddered. "Oh—"

He did it again.

The same slow drag, back and forth, feeling her wetness coat him, watching her hips shift involuntarily with each pass.

"Mm — Liam—" Her voice had gone completely unsteady. Her hands gripped the bedsheet on either side of her. "Stop teasing—"

"I’ll put it in when you beg for it."

She lifted her head. "What?"

"You heard me."

"Liam—"

"Beg for it and I’ll give it to you."

She stared at him over her shoulder for a full three seconds. "Are you serious right now."

He dragged himself against her again, slow and deliberate, and she made a sound that answered the question for her.

She turned her face back into the pillow. Her fingers tightened in the sheet.

Then, quietly, almost completely muffled by the linen: "Please."

Liam leaned forward slightly. "Sorry?"

She turned her head just enough. "Please." Still quiet. Still small.

"I’ll accept that," he said.

He pushed in.

"Oh—" Clara’s back arched immediately, her face pressing into the pillow, a long broken sound coming from somewhere deep in her chest.

Her hands pulled at the sheet, gathering it in her fists, her whole body reacting to the fullness of him all at once.

He went slow at first.

His hands finding her hips, fingers spreading across the soft skin there, holding her steady as he pulled back and pressed forward again.

Her ass shifted with every stroke, the soft flesh moving with the impact, rippling slightly each time he drove forward.

"Mm — ah—"

He kept the pace unhurried. Long strokes. Deep. Each one pulling almost all the way out before pressing back in fully, giving her the whole length of him on every movement.

Her sounds came steadily, one for each stroke, muffled by the pillow and completely genuine.

Her boobs pressed flat against the mattress beneath her with her weight on them, the pressure shifting with every thrust as her body rocked forward and pulled back.

He picked up the pace slightly.

"Ah — ah — Liam—"

He reached forward and took both her wrists, gathering them together in one hand and pinning them against the small of her back, not hard, just holding them there.

The position changed the angle slightly and Clara made a sound that she immediately tried to swallow back into the pillow.

’This is different,’ she thought, her eyes closing. ’Why does this feel completely different from every other time. Every single movement.’

Her face was turned to the side now, her cheek against the linen, her mouth open, small sounds coming out continuously with no gap between them.

Ta. Ta. Ta. Ta.

The sound of skin filled the room, steady and sharp, the headboard finding the wall in a soft rhythmic knock. Her ass rippled with every impact, the motion continuous, the pale skin flushed pink from the base of her spine down.

"Liam—" Her voice was completely gone. "That’s — oh god — that’s—"

He tightened his grip on her wrists slightly and drove forward harder.

"Ah—"

Her boobs pressed and shifted against the mattress beneath her with every thrust, swaying where they weren’t fully held by her weight, the motion following the rhythm of his hips exactly.

He kept going. Steady. Deep. Relentless. His hands on her wrists, her hips pressed back against him on every stroke, the room warm and quiet around them except for the sounds they were making together.

’She’s gripping me like a vice,’ he thought. ’Every single movement. She gets tighter every time I go deeper.’

"I’m close," Clara said. Her voice muffled and broken. "Liam I’m already—"

"I know."

He didn’t slow down. If anything his pace tightened, each thrust coming faster, the impact sharp and continuous, her whole body rocking with it.

Ta. Ta. Ta. Ta. Ta. Ta.

"Ah — oh — ah — Liam—"

Her back arched as far as it would go, her wrists pulling against his grip, her face completely buried in the pillow now, her sounds loud and uncontained and not caring about any of it.

He felt it building on his end too, that familiar pressure climbing fast, tightening with every stroke. He kept his pace, not slowing, not rushing, just riding the rhythm until it crested.

They came within seconds of each other. Clara first, her whole body seizing, a long raw sound tearing out of her, her hips pushing back hard against him and staying there. Liam followed immediately after, his grip on her wrists tightening, a low rough sound leaving him through his teeth as everything released at once.

They stayed still. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝓮𝒘𝙚𝙗𝒏𝙤𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝒐𝙢

The room settled back into quiet around them, just their breathing, heavy and uneven, slowly finding its way back to normal.

Liam released her wrists. She pulled them forward slowly, flexing her fingers, and didn’t move from her position for a long moment. Just lay there. Her cheek on the pillow. Her chest rising and falling.

"Shower," Liam said finally.

Clara turned her face slightly. "Give me a minute."

"Take your time."

---

They stood outside the hotel twenty minutes later.

The night air was cool after the warmth of the room, the street quiet in that specific way city streets get late in the evening when the earlier noise has faded and the later noise hasn’t started yet.

A few cars moved along the road at the far end. The hotel entrance behind them was lit softly, the doorman visible through the glass.

Clara stretched her arms overhead, her fingers lacing together, her back arching slightly with the movement.

She let out a long breath.

Her hair was still slightly damp from the shower, falling loose around her shoulders.

Liam was standing beside her with his phone out, his eyes on the screen.

She looked at him for a moment.

Then she stepped closer and looped both arms around his, hugging it against her side, her cheek resting briefly against his shoulder.

He looked down at her. "What’s wrong?"

"Nothing." She kept her hold on his arm. "Can’t I just hold your hand?"

"You can. I was just surprised."

She looked up at him. "Whatever."

He looked back at his phone. "I’m booking you a ride."

Clara pulled back slightly. "Ohh"

"It’s getting really late already."

She stared at him. "Or you can’t wait to get rid of me."

"That’s not it."

"Then what is it."

"It’s late," he said, still looking at his phone. "I want you to get home safe. That’s it." He glanced at her. "I have to get back too. Get some rest before tomorrow."

’I need actual sleep for tomorrow’

"But I’m with you," Clara said.

"I know. And it would be safer for both of us to just head back separately tonight." He looked at her properly now. "We can see each other at school. Or you can come to my place whenever you want. Any time."

She looked at him for a moment. Her mouth pressed together slightly. Then she exhaled. "Okay. Fine."

’I can’t even argue with that,’ she thought. ’He’s not wrong and I hate that he’s not wrong.’

They stood in comfortable silence for a few minutes. The cool air moved between them. Clara had her arms folded loosely, occasionally glancing at him while he finished on his phone.

A white Uber pulled up to the curb. The driver rolled the window down slightly. "I got a booking for Liam?"

"Yeah, that’s me," Liam said.

He stepped forward and opened the back door. Clara looked at him. Then she stepped up onto her toes and kissed him, one hand coming up to the side of his face briefly, her lips warm and soft. She pulled back after a moment and looked at him.

"Today was fun," she said.

Liam smiled. "Yeah. It was."

She got in. He closed the door behind her. The car pulled away from the curb and he watched it until it turned at the end of the block and disappeared.

Then he dropped his shoulders.

He made a fist at his side and pulled it back once, a single quiet celebration entirely for himself, his face doing something it rarely did without permission. He stood there for a second just letting himself have it.

Then he took his phone back out and opened the app to book his own ride.

He was mid-tap when a voice came from behind him.

"Hey."

He stopped. His thumb hovered over the screen.

He turned around slowly.

Three men. Standing in a loose formation behind him, close enough that stepping backward wasn’t an option.

He hadn’t heard them approach.

He didn’t know how long they had been there. The nearest one was maybe six feet away, broad, wearing a dark jacket, his face unreadable.

The one in the middle reached into his waistband and pulled out a gun. He held it low, not raised, just visible. A statement rather than a direct threat. For now.

Liam looked at it.

Then he looked at the man holding it.

His expression didn’t change. Not a flicker. He just looked at the gun the way he might look at someone’s shoes. Noted it. Filed it away.

"I can’t believe it," one of the others said. His voice had something underneath it. Recognition. "This is actually him. The one those guys were talking about."

The third one made a sound that wasn’t quite a laugh. "They all deserved to die."

Liam looked between them. "Who are you guys?"

The one on the left reached up and pulled the collar of his jacket aside. On the skin just above his collarbone was a tattoo.

A goblin face done in a sharp Chinese style, the teeth bared in a jagged snarl, the eyes narrow and slitted, the expression twisted with something between rage and hunger.

The lines were precise and dark, the kind of tattoo that had meaning behind it rather than just design.

Liam looked at it.

Then he looked back up at the man’s face.

"Okay," he said. His voice was completely level. "What do you want?"