“Then use me. Use my cock, my tongue, my hands. Use my body. It’s yours. But regardless of where we stand, and how you feel at the moment, it’s my name you’ll be screaming. Don’t forget that.”
“It doesn’t mean I’m yours,” I rasp, but I’m not sure if that’s the complete truth.
He kisses me. Deeply. But briefly.
“Sadly.” He accepts my conditions. It shouldn’t feel like a loss.
“Nobody can own thunder, remember?” My voice cracks, stealing the force behind my jab.
I hate him for what he’s done. For how he’s complicated everything. But most of all, I hate him for staying.
For refusing to leave. Because I can’t fight him. I don’t want to. I must.
He stares at me. Completely pinned down under him, swallowed by his weight, his scent, his body, I fight the urge to recoil.
To cower from his intensity. From his truth. From his vulnerability.
This man sees me. Truly sees me like no one else does. It scares me.
I don’t understand the war behind his eyes, but I know I’m at the center.
“Nobody can own thunder,” he echoes, and he pushes up, sitting on his haunches.
A shiver rakes through me at the loss. His face changes. From a wounded warrior to a predator. I know that look. I love that look.
“Off,” he commands, gesturing at my underwear. “Now.”
Jesus. I scramble to slide my panties down.
“Spread your legs.” He snatches the thong and puts them to his nose, inhaling. “Show me how wet you are for me!”
The change in the energy. Whiplash, anyone? And while my head struggles to catch up, my body is all on board.
I scoot farther and open my legs. He’s fully dressedstill, and I’m lying there exposed… literally and figuratively. The picture is beautifully wrong.
Liam groans. “Goddammit, you’re soaked.” He cups me between my legs, his thumb swiping over my clit.
I moan, throwing my head back. “Fuck.”
“I will do just that, but first, tell me, Thunder, did you get this wet recalling our first night together?”
He pushes two fingers into me. I arch my back, mewing.
“Maybe,” I rasp.
“What got you this wet, baby?” He pulls his fingers in and out. Not rushing. Completely controlling the situation. Playing me with such precision, I’m about to lose my mind.
“You,” I breathe out, holding his gaze. This I can give him. This I can own.
“Good answer.” He seizes my lips in a punishing kiss.
He fucks me with his fingers, and in no time, he has me writhing and panting.
It’s not enough. He is playing with me like with prey, and I love it. And hate it.
“I need more,” I whimper.
“I know, baby. Be a good girl and take my cock out.”
