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And then, at last, they were inside. The door closed tightly. Alone.
‘Next time,’ Liam managed gruffly, sweeping her against him again, ‘we don’t go so far from the hotel.’
‘Less talking, more kissing,’ she muttered, pressing her lips to his and pouring herself back into the moment.
Because she wanted him more than she could ever remember wanting—needing—anything. And what was the point of thinking any further outside that simple truth? As soon as Liam’s case at the clinic was complete he would be gone, and she would still be with her family where she was most needed. So she had nothing to lose.
Right?
Dragging her mouth from his, she began languidly unhooking the first button of his shirt, the second, the third, deliberately taking her time and giving it her full attention, until the two sides fell away in front of her. It was worth the wait, exposing all those mouth-wateringly hard ridges that made her hands ache to touch and her lips yearn to kiss.
She bent her head as if to do just that but Liam, it seemed, had other plans. Hooking her legs around his waist, just as he had done in the sea what seemed like a lifetime ago, he manoeuvred them both until her back was pressed against the wall, his hardness pressed into her heat.
He breathed in sharply, and she heard a low carnal groan of pleasure that took her a moment to realise was her. Three years of missing him—and pretending that she wasn’t—and suddenly here they were. She didn’t want to wait any longer.
Rolling her hips, she pressed herself against him again, revelling in the way he inhaled again. Even sharper this time. He afforded her another intense look, his green eyes almost black, but he didn’t move.
‘Forgotten what to do?’ she teased, her own voice sounding gravelly in her ear.
‘Oh, trust me, I haven’t forgotten a thing,’ he gritted out, and it rasped over her skin, leaving a trail of goose-bumps in its wake. ‘Just giving you chance to change your mind.’
Desire fired anew along her veins. She shook her mind, her voice almost deserting her for a moment.
‘I have no intention of changing my mind. I want this, Liam.’
She just about managed to slam her mouth shut before she added, I want you.
‘Good,’ he replied, and for a fraction of a moment she wondered what he was replying to.
Then, without another word, he swung her—legs still wrapped around his hips—around and carried her across the threshold to the huge bed that dominated the other room. And then she was sprawled on the bed as he concerned himself with stripping her very efficiently and very thoroughly until the only thing that remained between them was a tiny triangle of emerald-green lace.
Her heart thudded loudly in her ears. Like the downdraught from the celebrity helicopters that landed so frequently on the helipad at The Island Clinic—only ten times louder. And harder.
She felt wild. Incredible. The best she’d felt in three years. Or longer. Because he’d never quite looked at her the way he was looking at her now—as if that invisible cage that he pretended didn’t confine him back at Duke’s no longer existed.
Abruptly, she realised that he’d been looking more and more relaxed with each passing day here on St Vic and she opened her mouth to tell him, before abruptly snapping it shut again.
Now definitely wasn’t the best time to tell him.
‘Some other clever quip you thought better of?’ he demanded, a smiled twisting one side of his mouth.
Talia forced a smile of her own.
‘Something like that.’
‘Then allow me to disabuse you of any more of them,’ he growled, before sinking to his knees, sliding his hands under her backside and using those powerful shoulders of his to part her legs a little further.
And then, in a sublime flash of colour and heat, he buried his face between her legs and Talia forgot anything else.
* * *
The flimsy fabric was gone in a second and, Lord, if she didn’t taste even more incredible than he remembered. Caramel and cream, hot and perfect on his tongue. Liam drank her in deeply. His Talia. A woman wholly unlike any other.
Three years had done nothing to diminish the compulsion he’d felt for her. The other day had been little more than an appetiser and he’d been on tenterhooks ever since. Now he had her back again—if only temporarily—he intended to indulge in every last second.
He licked around her, his tongue and fingers in harmony as he played with her, teased her. She was so very slick, and hot, and he revelled in the way she gasped and writhed beneath his touch. The way she arched her body that moved those perfect breasts tipped with obsidian, and the way she rolled her hips towards him as if she couldn’t stop herself from trying to get closer to his mouth.
Those feral sounds she was making at the back of her throat did little to ease his arousal, so hard that it was almost painful. But Liam ignored it. This moment was about Talia’s need, not his. Not yet. After all, they had all night.
