Chapter 63: Make Out Session Turned...?**
The air inside the parked car was thick, heavy with the scent of Sophia’s perfume and the raw, electric charge of mutual desire. What had started as a serene, slow kiss had rapidly devolved into something far more feral. For over fifteen minutes, they were locked in a battle of tongues and breath, the windows beginning to fog as the temperature inside the cabin skyrocketed.
Sophia was lost in it. She had wanted Liam since the moment they started spending time together, but feeling him this close—feeling the heat radiating off his body—was different. She groaned into his mouth, a low, guttural sound of surrender, her tongue swirling around his in a desperate rhythm. She didn’t just want to kiss him; she wanted to consume him.
As the make-out session intensified, Sophia’s inhibitions crumbled. Her hand, acting on a primal instinct, slid down from his shoulder, tracing the line of his chest and stomach until her palm landed squarely on his crotch. She gasped against his lips, feeling the massive, rigid bulge of his cock straining against the fabric of his trousers.
"Oh god, Liam..." she whimpered, her voice trembling.
She began to rub him, her hand gripping the length of his hardness and sliding up and down with a firm, rhythmic pressure. She could feel him pulsing beneath her palm, the sheer size of him making her own core throb with an aching wetness. Every time she squeezed, Liam let out a choked moan, his hips instinctively bucking upward to meet her hand.
"Just one more minute," she told herself, her eyes fluttering shut. "Just one more minute of this."
But one minute bled into another, and the tension became unbearable. Liam wasn’t content to just be touched; he needed to feel her. His hand shot out, groping her breast through the fabric of her dress. He squeezed her firmly, his fingers digging into the soft curves of her chest, kneading her like dough. Sophia arched her back, a loud, needy moan escaping her throat.
"Fuck, Sophia... you’re so soft," Liam groaned, his voice husky and strained.
He shifted his focus, his fingers finding her nipples through the thin material. He began to roll them, pinching and flicking the sensitive peaks until Sophia was squirming in the seat, her legs rubbing together to soothe the fire between her thighs. She was aroused as fuck, her pussy dripping, the friction of her underwear against her clit sending sparks of electricity through her spine.
Liam broke the kiss to bury his face in the crook of her neck. He sucked on the sensitive skin there, leaving a mark, while his hand continued to torment her breast. Sophia threw her head back, her breath coming in ragged, shallow gasps.
"Liam... please..." she breathed, though she wasn’t even sure what she was asking for.
The urge to simply rip open his pants, pull out that throbbing cock, and slide down onto it was almost overwhelming. She could almost feel the sensation of him filling her, stretching her wide, hitting her cervix with every plunge. For a split second, she almost did it—her hand tightened on his bulge, and she started to shift her weight—but the reality of the situation crashed back down on her. Her teenage brother was inside the apartment. She couldn’t just fuck Liam in the car.
With a monumental effort of will, Sophia tore herself away, breaking the seal of their lips. She sat back, chest heaving, her lips swollen and glistening with saliva. She needed to breathe; her lungs felt like they were on fire.
Liam looked at her, his eyes dark with lust, his breathing just as heavy. He had a smirk on his face, though it was tempered by the sheer agony of his erection.
"Your lips taste so good," he said, his voice a low rumble that vibrated in Sophia’s chest.
Sophia chuckled, a breathless, shaky sound. She looked at him—really looked at him—and saw the desperation in his eyes. She wanted him. She wanted him so badly it hurt, but she knew she had to stop.
"I want you so bad," she whispered, her voice dripping with longing, "but I’m afraid this is where the fun has to come to an end."
Liam sighed, the sound halfway between a groan and a laugh. He leaned back into the leather seat, spreading his legs slightly to give his aching cock some room. He shrugged, trying to play it cool despite the fact that he was practically vibrating with sexual frustration.
"Bummers," he remarked, his tone playful but strained. "But even people had to wait months before Santa brought their gifts."
Sophia smiled, leaning in one last time, her eyes twinkling. "Am I your gift?"
Liam’s smirk returned, and he leaned forward, capturing her lips in one last kiss. This one wasn’t nasty or desperate; it was soft, lingering, and full of a promise for the future.
"Absolutely," he murmured against her skin.
Sophia gave him one last lingering look, a silent promise of what was to come, before she finally opened the door and walked toward her apartment. Liam watched her go, his eyes fixed on the sway of her hips, the way her dress hugged her ass.
The moment the door closed behind her, the silence of the car felt oppressive. Liam was horny as hell. His cock was throbbing uncontrollably, the head of it leaking pre-cum that dampened his underwear. The friction of the fabric was now a torture device. There was no way in hell he could go home and sleep like this; he was too wound up, too primed for release.
He reached for his phone, his movements jerky. He needed a release, and he knew exactly who would provide it. He had someone in his contacts who could do just that.
As he opened his messages to shoot her a text, a notification from Instagram popped up. He glanced at it and immediately kissed his teeth in irritation. She was the last person he wanted to think about in a romantic sense, but as he stared at the screen, a vivid memory flashed through his mind: the feeling of Vanessa’s plump, firm buttocks squeezed tight around his cock, the friction of her against him as he hammered away between her cheeks.
"Man! Is this the success people speak of?" Liam muttered to himself, a dark, hungry smile spreading across his face.
The frustration from Sophia had only added fuel to the fire. He didn’t want romance now; he wanted raw, unfiltered filth. He wanted to be used and to use someone else until he was empty.
He quickly switched apps and shot a message to Rachel. He didn’t bother with pleasantries. He just let her know he was coming over and that he was wound up tight.
Almost instantly, his phone buzzed. Rachel had responded, but not with words. She sent a photo. It was a close-up, a teasing shot that revealed only the top of her cleavage, her breasts pushed together to create a deep, inviting valley of skin. The lighting was dim, suggesting she was already waiting in the bedroom.
Below the photo, a single line of text:
[Rachel: Don’t keep me waiting.]
Liam felt his cock twitch violently. He didn’t waste another second.
He slammed the car into gear, the tires screeching as he peeled away from the curb. The tenderness of the night with Sophia was gone, replaced by a driving, singular need to bury himself in Rachel and fuck the frustration out of his system. He could already imagine the sound of her moaning, the feel of her gripping him, and the messy, explosive finish he was about to chase. He drove fast, his mind already imagining Rachel stripped naked and begging for his cock.