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“Miles from your mouth,” he murmurs, giving my hips a squeeze.
Just once.
But slowly enough for my attention to shift in its entirety to that possessive pressure. The feel of his hold. How easily he could move me, pull me into him, and—
“Breathe, gorgeous.”
Right.
I do, letting a flood of oxygen back into my brain. Andthat’s it.
This time, when I turn to my too-smug fake husband, it’s with my whole body.
Every place we’re molded together rubs with a slow friction hot enough to melt the ice he skates on.
My shoulder rubs against the mass of his chest.
My arm grazes the hard stacks of his abs.
My ass brushes firm against his fly.
His breath punches out in a cough.
“Stormy,” he warns through clenched teeth and a fake smile no one would buy.
Completing my one-eighty, I let my breasts pillow against his chest. Peering up through my lashes, I shift my weight from one leg to the other in a way Iknowhe’ll feel.
“Mmm, miles from your mouth,” I tease for his ears only before wetting the swell of my bottom lip. “No tongue.”
Liam isn’t even trying to smile now. The look he’s giving me is pure, dark heat. The kind of fire I know better than to play with.
Except… he started it. “I didn’tsuckanything.”
Mic drop.
I’m ready to strut my sweet ass over to some family member to recount the falsified version of our marriage, when Liam’s grip on my hips firms, stilling me in my spot.
“Nope.”
I raise a brow. “Nope?”
“You aren’t moving an inch. Not unless you want me to make arealimpression on your family.”
I’m about to ask what he’s talking about when I feel it.
My second brow meets the first, and he shakes his head.
“Don’t give me that all-innocence look. You know exactly what you did.” The muscle in his jaw jumps, but there’s a smile in his eyes. “You did iton purpose.”
Like I was the only one. “And if I did?”
He groans. “That makes it even worse. Christ. Just. Don’t move for a minute. Especially not your lips, tongue, or not-sucking mouth.Please.”
I do what he asks, but more out of shock than true compliance. Because that groan?
That groan isn’t the kind of sound men make over me. Maybe I should feel guilty.
I definitely shouldn’t like it.
