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I nod, reaching across the table and touching his hand.
“I’m sorry, Liam.”
He shrugs. “It was a long time ago.”
“I know how horrible it can be,” I go on. “Losing your parents. I mean, I guess I know. I sort of know.”
“What do you mean?” he asks, watching me in that patient, accepting way he has like he would happily wait an hour for me to answer.
“My parents died when I was very young,” I tell him. “I think I told you, right? I was raised by my aunt. They OD’d, both of them, several months apart. They were drug addicts.”
“I’m sorry,” Liam growls softly, like an alpha lion trying to sound like a house cat.
He squeezes my hand in his, and then his smirk spreads across his face, wider and wider until I can’t help but smile in return.
“What are you smiling about?” I say.
“Nothing,” he says. “I just wanted to make you smile. And it worked.”
“We’re being very depressing, aren’t we?” I laugh.
“Unacceptably so,” he banters. “Come on, let’s have more of this deliciously non-alcoholic champagne.”
We both take a sip and I lean back, glancing around the lodge, at the nature landscape paintings that hang from the walls.
“This place really is amazing,” I whisper.
“It will be yours one day,” he says passionately. “Everything I own, everything I am, one day it will belong to you, Lola. The same way you belong to me.”
“I want that,” I moan.
But, I add in my mind. What about Kayley?
I still the words before they can pass my lips. I don’t want to ruin tonight.
I think I know what’s coming after the champagne.
And even if I’m not entirely sure I’m ready, I’m ready to try.
I don’t want anything to mess that up.
I take another sip of champagne, studying Liam’s glistening silver jaw in the lowlight.
Chapter Twelve
Liam
I feel like I’ve been waiting my whole life for this.
Lola walks ahead of me into the bedroom, the mood lighting automatically glowing awake as she approaches the bed. It’s a simple rustic room with rug-covered wooden flooring and a fireplace in the corner. The bed is huge and covered in faux-fur blankets, making it look like some ancient hunter’s bed.
I close the door behind me, and Lola turns, her face flushed red and her eyes wide. She bites her lip in that way that drives me feral.
“Don’t be mad,” she murmurs. “If I can’t—”
“I won’t be,” I tell her firmly, my cock giving a pulse. “But you will. Your body wants it too badly. I can fucking smell your womb
I stare at her in that dress, my cock thrumming again and again. The hem is cut short, showing off an ample juicy piece of her thigh. My mouth waters as I stalk closer to her, my cock so full of tension I’m sure it’s going to explode out of my zipper any second.
“Your legs drive me insane,” I snarl.
“My legs?” she moans, staring up at me with those wide fuck-me eyes.
“They’re so full, so perfect.”
I fall to my knee and grab her hips, softly pushing her back. She gasps and sails backward, sitting on the bed with a soft whimper. I slide my hands up her calves, savoring every inch of her flesh, higher and higher until I’m gripping the full beauty of her thighs.
“I can smell your pussy,” I groan, moving closer, inhaling deeply. “Fuck, you’re tangy. You’re soaked, aren’t you? You’re already soaked you horny virgin.”
“Yes,” she whimpers, writhing against the fur blanket. “I’m drenched, Liam.”
“Good girl,” I snarl.
She knows what I like to hear.
I slide my hands up her legs, the material of the dress gathering around my hands. She whimpers and moans with each inch I gain toward her pussy.
I grip her panties and slide them down, over her knees, and down her heels.
And then I look up at her naked pussy.
It’s shining in the low light, she’s so wet, glistening, winking at me.
Her hole is pink and fresh-looking, an untouched tight-as-fuck hole that’s just ready to be used by me.
My cock aches and throbs and pulses, and I reach out and stroke my finger around her hole, feeling the wetness against my skin.
“Fuck,” I groan. “You’re ready. I can feel it. Dress off. Now.”
I stand up and start stripping myself, hungry to be naked with her. I fall into a haze where all I can think about is Lola and the creamy wetness of her pussy.
I tear off my suit jacket and rip off my shirt – buttons popping and flying everywhere – and then quickly take off my pants, boxers and shoes.
All of it, I tear it all away until I’m as naked as the day I was born.
I stand over her, staring as she unclips her bra and then leans back on her elbows, completely naked. Her breasts so full, her veins seeming to pulse. Her nipples are full like they’ll be when they swell with milk.
