The rain had been falling for hours, soft and steady against the windows of the small apartment. Maya stood in the kitchen doorway, towel drying her hair, watching Liam as he finished washing the last of the dishes. They’d spent the evening cooking together, laughing, tasting sauces off each other’s spoons, the easy intimacy of people who’d known each other’s bodies for months and still wanted more.
She walked up behind him, slipped her arms around his waist, and pressed her cheek between his shoulder blades. “You’re taking forever,” she murmured.
He turned in her arms, hands still damp, and kissed her slow and deep. “Maybe I was waiting for you to notice.”
Maya smiled against his mouth. “I noticed.” She took his hand and led him toward the bedroom, pausing only long enough to switch off the lights in the living room. The bedroom was lit by the single lamp on the nightstand, warm and low.
They undressed each other without hurry. She unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it off his shoulders; he lifted her sweater over her head and let it fall. When they were both bare, they stood close, kissing, hands roaming with the familiarity of people who already knew what the other liked and still took the time to ask with their touch.
Maya sat on the edge of the bed and pulled him between her thighs. She looked up at him. “I want you inside me tonight. Slow at first.”
“Yes,” he said simply, and the word carried everything.
He knelt, kissed the inside of one knee, then the other, then higher, until his mouth found her. She was already wet; he licked her open with long, deliberate strokes, listening to the soft sounds she made. When she threaded her fingers into his hair and tugged lightly, he looked up.
“Come here,” she said.
He climbed onto the bed with her. She rolled them so she was on top, straddled his hips, and reached down to guide him. The first slow slide made both of them exhale. She sank all the way down, rolled her hips once, twice, then stayed still, feeling him throb inside her.
“Okay?” he asked, hands resting lightly on her thighs.
“More than okay.” She began to move—slow circles at first, then longer strokes that let him feel every inch. His hands slid up to her waist, then higher, cupping her breasts, thumbs brushing her nipples the way she liked. She leaned forward, bracing her hands on his chest, and rode him a little harder.
When the angle wasn’t quite enough, she whispered, “Flip me.”
He did, carefully, staying inside her the whole time. Once she was on her back he settled between her legs and started thrusting—deep, steady, exactly the pace she’d asked for earlier. She wrapped her legs around him and met every stroke. Their mouths found each other again, open and wet, sharing breath.
Maya reached down between them and touched herself. Liam felt the shift in her body, the way she tightened around him, and slowed just enough to let her catch the rhythm she needed. “That’s it,” he murmured against her ear. “Take what you want.”
She came first, a long, shuddering wave that made her cry out against his shoulder. He held still through most of it, then began moving again when she nodded and pulled him closer. A few more deep thrusts and he followed, burying his face in her neck as he finished inside her.
They stayed like that for a while, hearts slowing, bodies still joined. Eventually he slipped out and rolled to the side, pulling her with him so they faced each other. Maya traced idle patterns on his chest.
“Still good?” he asked softly.
She smiled. “Very good.” She kissed the corner of his mouth. “Stay right here a little longer.”
He did.

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