ttznovel Chapter 224: Sofia Sweet Release 2
Chapter 224: Sofia Sweet Release 2
They stayed like that for a moment, not moving, just adjusting to the reality of it.
Her hands were on his shoulders and his were on her waist and she had one leg hooked around his hip and he was inside her and neither of them said anything about any of it.
Then he moved.
Just slightly at first.
A slow pull back and then forward, feeling her out, finding the angle.
She made a sound against his jaw and her grip on his shoulders tightened and he did it again with a little more behind it.
"Haa—"
The sound came out of her before she could do anything about it, soft and sudden, her face pressing into the side of his neck.
He kept going at the same pace and she made the sound again, longer this time, less controlled.
He found a rhythm.
Slow and steady, his hands on her waist, guiding her into each movement.
Her breathing changed with every push, becoming something less like regular breathing and more like something her body was doing on its own without asking.
Her nails found his shoulders properly now, pressing in.
"Haaa— Liam—"
"Yeah," he said.
"You’re so deep." Her voice came out unsteady, broken at the edges.
He didn’t answer that.
He pulled back and pushed forward again and she made a sharp sound that she buried in his neck and he kept going, the rhythm settling into something consistent, the sound of it filling the apartment around them steady and continuous.
Ta. Ta. Ta.
"Haa— oh my god— haaaa—"
The movie was still going on the TV somewhere behind them. Neither of them was aware of it anymore.
The room had become just this, just the two of them and the rhythm and her sounds climbing gradually with every movement.
"You’re squeezing me so tight," he said against her ear. Low, rough, not performing it. Just stating what his body was genuinely telling him.
"I can’t— haa— I can’t help it—"
Ta, ta, ta.
"Haaaa— oh my gawd—"
He pushed deeper and she grabbed the back of his neck with one hand and made a sound that started somewhere low in her chest and came out loud and high and completely uncontained.
She pressed her face into his neck like that would muffle it. It did not muffle it.
He kept going.
The rhythm built, the sound of it building with it, her voice arriving with each movement now, continuous and climbing, her whole body moving with him.
"Haa— haa— Liam— oh my god don’t stop—"
"What if i do?," he said.
"Haaaa.... please don’t."
Then he decided to change it.
He shifted his hands, one moving to her lower back and one going to the back of her other thigh, and he lifted.
"Liam—" Sharp and genuinely surprised, both her legs leaving the floor at the same time, her arms flying around his neck, her eyes going wide.
She was completely off the ground and he was holding her like the weight of her was not a thing he was managing, just a thing he was doing.
"I got you," he said.
He adjusted his grip from underneath, both hands taking her weight, fingers spread, positioning her exactly where he needed her.
She was staring directly at his face now with nowhere else to look, close enough that he could see every detail of her expression, and he looked back at her for a second and kissed her once, brief and deliberate.
Then he started moving her.
"Oh—" Immediate. "Oh my— haa—"
Plap. Plap. Plap.
The sound of it filled the room completely now.
Louder than before, the new angle producing something different, deeper, and she had stopped trying to manage anything coming out of her.
Her voice filled the apartment freely, arriving with each movement, climbing without restraint.
"Haaaa— oh my gawd— you’re so deep— haa— Liam—"
Plap. Plap. Plap. Plap.
"Right there," she managed between sounds. "Right there don’t stop— please—"
Plap. Plap. Plap.
"Haaaa—"
He kept going, moving her at the pace he wanted, feeling everything, staying completely present in it.
Her sounds had become one long continuous thing now, her voice and the rhythm of it woven together, filling every corner of the apartment.
Plap. Plap. Plap. Plap. Plap.
"Oh my god— haa— haaaa— Liam— I’m—"
She grabbed the back of his neck with both hands and her whole body tensed, every muscle going rigid at once, and she made a sound that had no words in it at all, just her voice going high and continuous, and she shook through it, her whole body shaking, her hands gripping him like she needed something to hold onto while it happened.
He followed not long after.
His rhythm broke.
His hands gripped her tighter.
His breath came out hard and ragged against her shoulder, once and then again, and then he was still.
They stayed like that.
Her face in his neck. His hands still under her, still holding her up.
The apartment quiet around them for the first time in a while, just their breathing, just the low sound of the movie still running on the TV that neither of them had looked at in a long time.
He held her there for a moment longer.
Then he set her down carefully, making sure her feet found the floor before he let go. She stood there and looked at him and he looked at her.
Her hair was everywhere.
Her cheeks were red.
She looked like someone who had been thoroughly handled and was quietly aware of it.
She pushed her hair back from her face.
He exhaled slowly.
"Okay," he said.
"Okay," she said.
They ate.
He dished it while she sat on the counter and watched him, her legs swinging, still catching her breath in the easy way of someone coming down from something.
The food was good. Genuinely good.
Better than anything the ingredients in that bag had suggested it was going to be and he told her that while they settled onto the couch with their bowls and she looked pleased in the particular quiet way she looked pleased, not making a big thing of it, just receiving it.
They talked while they ate.
Her asking him something and him answering and him asking something back and her explaining it with her hands moving the way they moved when she was into what she was saying.
Easy back and forth, no weight to it, just two people eating food on a couch at whatever hour this was like it was something they did regularly.
The food disappeared faster than either of them planned for it to.
He stacked their bowls and set them on the coffee table and leaned back against the couch and looked at her sitting beside him with her legs pulled up under her, her hair still not entirely recovered, her face relaxed and open in the low light.
"You want to go again," he said.
She looked at him.
Not surprised.
More like she had been sitting there wondering when he was going to say it and now that he had she was doing a quick check on her answer even though she already knew what it was.
"Yeah," she said.
He stood up and held out his hand.
She looked at his hand. Then at his face. Then she put her hand in his and he pulled her up off the couch and they went to the bedroom.
The room was darker than the main room, the light from outside pressing through the curtain in a thin line across the floor.
He pulled the covers back and she got in and he got in after her and for a moment they just lay there in the dark facing each other, close enough that he could see her face clearly, the line of her nose, her eyes finding his in the low light.
She moved first.
Her hand flat on his chest, pushing him gently onto his back, and then she moved over him and sat there for a second looking down at him before she bent and kissed him.
He kissed her back and his hands went to her waist and she kissed down his jaw and his neck and kept going, her hair falling forward around her face.
He lay back and let her.
Her mouth moved down his chest, unhurried, her hands following the path her mouth was taking.
She kept going and reached him and looked up at him once from under her hair and then took him in her mouth and he exhaled a long slow breath through his nose and his head went back against the pillow.
She was good at it.
Not performing.
Not making a show of it.
Just focused and deliberate and completely present in what she was doing, her hand working with her mouth, her pace building gradually.
He lay there with one hand resting in her hair, not directing, just there, feeling everything build in the slow patient way it built when someone genuinely knew what they were doing and was doing it properly.
He let it go on for a while.
Then his hand in her hair tightened gently and she slowed and looked up at him.
"Come here," he said.
She moved back up the bed and he kissed her and then rolled her gently onto her back and kissed down her neck and across her chest and his mouth found her nipple briefly and she made a small sound and he kept going further down.
His hand moved between her legs and she shifted them apart without him asking and he felt how warm she was and slid one finger in slowly.
"Haa—"
He worked her slowly.
One finger and then two, his thumb finding the right spot, his other hand flat on her stomach feeling her reactions through the movement of her body.
She was making sounds again, soft this time, intimate, the bedroom sounds different from the living room sounds, quieter and more honest somehow.
"Mmh— haa— right there—"
Her hands were in the sheets beside her. Her eyes were closed.
Her bottom lip was caught between her teeth and her hips were moving slightly, working toward his hand without her deciding to do it, her body just responding to what was happening.
"Haa— don’t stop— Liam— haaaa—"
He kept going, watching her face in the low light, reading her, staying exactly where she needed him to stay until her breathing told him she was right at the edge.
Then he stopped.