Chapter 251: Back To Mama
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
Kelly opened the door and found Liam standing there holding a wrapped shirt under one arm and a small bunch of flowers in the other hand, a smile already in place before she’d even fully opened the door.
Her whole face lit up.
She didn’t say anything first. She just reached out and grabbed him and pulled him into a hug, her arms going around his neck, and he wrapped one arm around her waist, the flowers awkwardly held off to the side, and they stood there in her doorway for a moment before she pulled back and kissed him.
It went on for a while.
When she finally broke it she rested her forehead against his for a second, eyes still closed. "I missed you," she said.
"I missed you too," he said.
She took the flowers from him and stepped back to let him in.
He walked in behind her, looking around the apartment, and that was when he saw it.
A cucumber. Sitting on the arm of her couch, completely out of place in a way that made him stop mid-step and look at it properly.
Kelly followed his eyes and saw what he was looking at.
"That’s not—" She moved fast, crossing the room and snatching it off the couch arm, holding it behind her back like that was going to undo the previous several seconds. "It’s not what you think."
Liam looked at her.
He walked toward her slowly, a smile building, and reached out to tilt her chin up with two fingers.
"You don’t have to be embarrassed," he said. "I’m glad to know you missed my dick that much." He leaned in. "I missed you too."
He kissed her.
She made a small sound against his mouth, somewhere between protest and surrender, and then the cucumber hit the floor with a soft thud as her hands found their way to the back of his neck instead. He moved his hands to her ass, gripping it through the thin fabric of what she was wearing, squeezing, lifting her slightly until she was up on her toes to keep the kiss going.
They stayed like that, trading breath, her hands gripping the back of his neck, small sounds escaping into his mouth every few seconds. He kept squeezing, kept lifting her, kept her right there against him.
Then she pulled back.
"I can’t," she said, breathless. "I have to finish cooking. It’s going to burn."
Liam looked at her. "I’m already hard from this."
"You’ll have to wait," she said, already turning toward the kitchen, smoothing her hair back with one hand.
"What are you making?" he asked, following her in.
"Pasta," she said, lifting the lid on the pot and checking it, steam rising up around her face. "It’s almost done." She glanced back at him. "You having some?"
He came up behind her, close enough that his chest was against her back.
"The only thing I want to eat," he said, "is you."
"That’ll have to wait too," she said, stirring the pot.
"Why does it have to wait," he said. "I can just keep doing what I want while you cook."
He slid both hands under the loose fabric of her top from behind and found her boobs, squeezing gently, his thumbs moving across her nipples.
"Liam—" Her hand tightened on the wooden spoon. "Stop, what if I drop this. It’s almost done."
"Don’t worry about it," he said against her ear. "I’ll do all the work."
He kept one hand on her boobs and let the other travel down, slipping beneath the waistband of her shorts, finding her warm and already responding.
He pushed two fingers in.
"Oh—" Her stirring slowed but didn’t stop, her hand still moving the spoon in slow distracted circles while her body reacted to what his other hand was doing.
He worked her slowly, his fingers curling, his thumb pressing lightly, his other hand still on her boobs, squeezing in rhythm with the strokes below.
"Mm— Liam—" She checked the pot again, lifting the lid, her hand shaking slightly. "I need to— haa— I need to stir this—"
She kept doing it. Somehow. Her body torn between the pasta and what he was doing to her, both demands competing for her attention and neither winning cleanly.
"Mm— ah—"
He kept going, steady and patient, feeling her get wetter with every stroke, her hips beginning to push back against his hand without her deciding to do that.
She finished stirring.
She set the spoon down, turned the heat off, and turned around to face him.
She kissed him.
Hard this time, both hands going to his face, her body pressing into his, and he kissed her back, his hands finding her waist.
He kept going. He brought one hand back to her chest and the other found its way between her legs again and she made a sound into his mouth that came out louder than she meant it to.
"I can’t take this anymore," she said against his lips. "I can’t."
They started pulling at each other’s clothes at the same time, her hands at his shirt buttons, his hands lifting her top over her head, both of them working fast, fabric dropping in pieces around the kitchen floor.
She got him out of his trousers. He got her out of her shorts. They were both bare within a minute, standing in the kitchen with the pasta cooling on the stove behind them.
They moved to the floor.
He sat back against the cabinet and she climbed onto him, positioning herself, sinking down slowly with her eyes closing.
"Oh—"
She started in a kneeling position, her hips rolling, her hands on his shoulders, her boobs right there in front of him swaying with every movement. He held her waist and let her find her own rhythm, watching her work.
"Mm— ah—"
She built it steadily, her pace climbing, her sounds coming freely now, no longer split between two competing demands. Just this.
Ta. Ta. Ta. Ta.
Then she leaned forward, resting her chest against his, her arms wrapping around his neck, and changed the angle, no longer kneeling fully but resting against him, her hips still moving, her ass rising and falling in shorter more deliberate strokes.
"Haa— oh god—"
He felt every movement of her against his chest, her boobs pressed flat against him, her breath hot against his neck, her sounds arriving directly into his ear now.
Ta. Ta. Ta. Ta. Ta.
"Liam— mm— I’m—"
He gripped her hips and helped guide the rhythm, driving up to meet her on each downstroke, and she gasped and gripped him tighter, her whole body working faster.
"Oh— oh god— Liam—"
She came.
Her body locking against his, her nails pressing into his shoulders, a long unsteady sound leaving her into his neck, her hips still moving through the last of it in short involuntary pulses.
He followed soon after, his hands gripping her hips hard, a rough sound leaving him as everything released at once.
They stayed there on the kitchen floor, her chest against his, both of them breathing hard, the room quiet except for that.
After a while Kelly lifted her head and looked toward the stove.
"The pasta," she said.
Liam looked at it too.
Completely cold. Sitting in the pot exactly where she’d left it, the steam long gone.
"Blunt," she said, looking at it with mild disappointment.
"We can reheat it," Liam said.
"Yeah," she said, resting her head back against his shoulder. "In a minute."
He looked at her still sitting on his lap, her hair messy, her cheeks flushed, and something in him decided one round wasn’t enough.
"Let’s go one more," he said.
She looked at him. Then at the stove. Then she laughed, short and breathless, and pushed herself up off him just enough to reach over and turn the gas knob to off, making sure it was fully closed before settling back down onto him.
"Okay," she said. "One more."
She climbed off him slowly and turned around, getting onto her hands and knees on the kitchen floor, her ass facing him, looking back over her shoulder.
"This one," she said.
Liam moved behind her.
He gripped her hips and pushed in slowly, the angle different from before, deeper immediately.
"Oh—" Her head dropped, her hands pressing flat against the tile.
He started moving.
Ta. Ta. Ta. Ta.
Her boobs swayed beneath her with every thrust, her ass rippling against his hips on each impact, her sounds coming freely now into the quiet of the kitchen.
"Mm— ah— Liam—"
He picked up the pace, his hands gripping her hips tighter, driving forward with more behind it each time.
Ta. Ta. Ta. Ta. Ta.
"Oh god— right there—"
He kept going, the rhythm building steadily, her hands sliding slightly against the tile from the force of it, her hair falling forward around her face.
"Haa— Liam— I’m—"
He drove deeper and she came, her arms giving out, her chest dropping to the floor while her hips stayed up, a long broken sound leaving her into the tile.
He followed right behind her, gripping her hips hard, a rough sound leaving him as everything released.
He pulled back and she sank fully to the floor, breathing hard, her cheek against the cool tile.
"Okay," she said, eyes closed. "Now the pasta."
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