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She stepped inside, drawing the door closed. She watched as Liam placed their barely touched dinner in the fridge and turned to her. Everything about this man, from the way he stood, his bare feet planted hips’ distance apart with his strong hands on his hips, to his sharp brown eyes, left her eager to walk into the moment and never look back.
“What do you want, Katie?”
She heard the challenge in his tone. If she didn’t take control, he would. But she wasn’t about to let that happen.
“You,” she said, closing the space between them. She touched his chest and began tracing the outline of his muscles. “At my mercy. Calling my name.”
She looped her fingers beneath the waistband on his jeans, brushing her thumb back and forth over the button. The head of his cock touched her fingertips and she could feel him straining for more. Moving backward, she headed for the overstuffed leather couch in the den area, pulling Liam with her. He followed willingly, his lips forming a smile that threatened to melt away her resolve and let him have his wicked way with her.
Stepping onto the soft rug, Katie paused in front of the couch. Using both hands, she undid the button on his jeans and lowered the zipper, freeing his erection. She wrapped her hand around him before stealing a glance up at his face. His jaw was tense and his gaze was fixed on her hand, watching and waiting. If she faltered, even for a second, he’d reclaim control.
Reluctantly, she released him and went to work removing his pants. “Sit down.”
“Sure you don’t need help with your clothes?” His voice was a low growl. The tone and timbre sent red-alert signals through her body.
“Sit down, Liam.” She gave him a little push and waited until he’d settled into the cushions before sinking to her knees between his splayed legs.
“I want to be clear on the rules,” she said, wrapping her hand around him.
“I’m listening,” Liam murmured.
She lowered her head, running her tongue around him, ensuring she had his full attention. “Place your hands behind your head, grip the couch cushions if you want, but you can’t touch me.”
“And you think I’ll agree to this because—”
She took him in her mouth, running her lips down to meet her hands.
“Oh hell yes,” he hissed.
She lifted her head, but kept her hold on him. “And the second rule. The only words I want to hear from your lips are ‘more,’ ‘please,’ and ‘yes.’ ”
Liam let out a strained laugh as she placed him on the receiving end of the command he’d issued earlier in the bedroom.
“Understood?” Her lips grazed the tip of his cock.
“Yes.”
Katie licked him beginning at the base and he let out a low moan as his hips rocked up, demanding more. His sounds and movements left her aching for his touch. Remembering his instructions from years ago, under the fir tree, she moved her free hand to her breasts, brushing the hardened nipple through the thin fabric of her tank top. She knew, just knew, he was watching.
“Oh fuck, Katie. You’re killing me.” He thrust up into her mouth, harder and faster. But she stilled, gently lifting her head and looking him in the eye.
“More,” he said, the smile on his lips in sharp contrast to the need in his brown eyes as he realized his error, and her determination to stick to her rules. “Please.”
Lowering her mouth, she took him as deep as she could, savoring his
growl of approval. The hand touching her breast headed south. Having him at her mercy had her turned on to the point she couldn’t hold back. If she didn’t touch herself, she might abandon her plan, strip off her clothes, and straddle his lap.
Through her shorts, she pressed the heel of her hand against the part of her body demanding friction. She moaned, swirling her tongue around his tip, before taking him deep again. Her hand worked in time with her mouth.
She felt Liam’s fingers in her hair, drawing her back. “Game over, Katie. You can call the shots later, I swear. But right now, honey, I need to taste you.”
She heard the dangerous edge in his voice and was about to refuse even though his words sent a thrill down her body, when he added: “Please.”
That one word—it was supposed to be a plea—but crossing his lips, it was a command. She released him, resting back on her heels.
“Please, take off your clothes.”
“Since you asked nicely . . .” Reaching for the hem of her tank, she drew it over her head and tossed it aside. She rose to her feet and quickly stripped away the rest of her clothes. “Better?”
