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With one thrust, he powers into me. It’s like Christmas coming early. A multitude of lights blast behind my lids, and I let out a long, breathless moan. He works himself in and out while his mouth does magical things to my breasts. My entire body is on fire. My heart is beating like a freight train. I need more. So much more. My fingers thread into his hair, and I pull him toward me, needing his mouth back on mine. He kisses me with a ferocity that almost blinds me. His rhythm increases, and I pull in a tight breath, bucking my hips to meet his every thrust.
“Liam,” I whimper, riding his cock.
He gathers my hair into his fist and slams his mouth back over mine. Feral and demanding. A silent message. You were mine once; you’ll be mine again. He plunges into me over and over, grabbing the back of my thigh to extend my leg, allowing him to thrust deeper. My words become trapped in my throat. Wanting to beg for more. Tell him I belong to him. That he branded my soul a lifetime ago, and that has never faded. My orgasm builds, and small mews of pleasure fall off my tongue.
It becomes too much, and I break. Every nerve-ending in my body detonates as my sex violently spasms. I arch my head back and cry out from the most earth-shattering climax. Liam rides me hard and fast, growling out through his own release.
Liam’s arm gives out, and he collapses against me. I can’t catch my breath. My toes are tingling. My sex is still pulsating. “Shit,” I choke out, not sure I’ll ever fully regain feeling in my legs. Liam lifts, suppressing a smile. “Well shit. At least you don’t have to put a shirt back on. We never took that bad boy off.”
Fighting that devilish grin of his, Liam bends down and places his lips over mine. The only soft thing about him. Because he is all man. “Didn’t think you could see it since you knocked out the light with your boot-kicking kung fu.”
Oops. “Yeah, sorry about that. Desperate times. But I would suggest next time we remove the shirt. The whole eight pack and pure steel thing is kind of a turn-on.”
“So, there’s gonna be a next time?”
“A few times. Unless you can’t—you don’t think he—”
“Oh, he will.”
Like a kid in a candy store, I match his playful gaze and spank his tight tush. “I gotta get up real quick. Text my mom that I’m sleeping at a friend’s again so she doesn’t worry.”
He snatches me back, the hard feel of him against my stomach telling me I don’t have time because he’s more than ready to go.
“That’s gonna have to wait ’til our next intermission. I’ve got to prove my stamina.”
The sound of Liam’s alarm wakes me. I stir, shoving my face farther into his soft pillow, enjoying his warm body nestled up behind me. It’s heavenly waking up like this. Now, if only his alarm clock would shut up.
“Liam,” I mumble. “Turn your alarm off.”
“That’s not my alarm. I think it’s your phone.”
My phone?
“Oh shit!” I pop up. “I never called my mom last night.” She probably thinks I’m dead in a ditch somewhere. I scramble out from under my warm cocoon and dive to the floor in search of my jeans. The ringing stops. Then goes off again. “Her wrath is on you.” Where are my jeans?
“My fault?”
“Yeah! You held me captive. Don’t deny it.” My phone stops ringing. A few seconds pass, and it wakes up again. “Where is that damn—”
Liam sits up and helps in my search. My poor mother. He pulls up my jacket and reaches into my pocket, pulling out the phone. He looks at the screen, his easy-going smile faltering.
Shit.
Why do I have a feeling it’s not my mother calling?
“Seems Vincent really wants to get in touch with you.” I jump up and swipe my phone from his hands. Not bothering to confirm who it is, I ignore the call. Eager bastard, because he calls right back.
“Wanna explain what that was all about?”
“Spam callers. You hungry? I still make a mean omelet—”
“Who’s Vincent?”
Why do we have to go there? Everything is going so well. We’re reconnecting and wrapped up in our perfect little bubble, pretending there aren’t any outside monsters waiting to burst it. “My insurance guy?”
He doesn’t join in my humor and abruptly stands, shoving himself into a pair of jeans.
“It’s no big deal.”
“No big deal.” He throws on a Henley. “You know what? I’ve been trying to play this game. I really have. But I can’t do it anymore.”
“Do what? What game?”
“Really? Are we ever going to talk about it, Holls? The big fucking elephant in the room?” He swipes his hands through his hair. “You know, the fucking boyfriend you’ve failed to mention? The one blowing up your phone?”
