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“They’re not all watching—”
“They will be,” Liam murmurs. Then his hand moves faster, rubbing in the tight, quick circles that he knows will send me over the edge, and I grab his thigh, my fingers sinking into the tight fabric of his suit trousers as I gasp.
“Yes! Yes, Liam, please, let me come, make me come, ahh—” I whisper the words frantically, hushed next to his ear, praying that to anyone watching, it’ll merely look like we’re madly in love, pressed together, whispering over dessert, our hands on each other’s legs.
“Then come for me, lass,” Liam whispers, and with his fingers flicking expertly over the tight, throbbing bundle of nerves between my folds, there’s nothing I can do but obey.
He slides one last teaspoon of dessert into my mouth. I gasp around it, sighing as the chocolate coats my tongue in the same instant that Liam’s fingers are coated with the wash of my orgasm, crashing through me as I lean into him, ducking my face against his shoulder as my nails nearly dig through the fabric of his pants into his thigh. I try to hold still as the climax rolls through me, not to shudder or moan, and Liam turns his face towards my ear, whispering with a dark, wicked edge of laughter to his voice.
“Ah yes, little lass, come for me. So wet, so hungry—ahfuck.” He moans lightly, not loud enough for anyone to hear, as I press myself against his hand, wanting more of the pleasure, even as I’m horribly, shamefully aware of how many eyes in the restaurant probably know what we’re doing.
And then, just as the last tremors of my orgasm pass through me, Liam slides his hand out from beneath my skirt and from under the table. Deftly, he swipes his two fingers around the rim of the mousse cup, chocolate on his fingertips, as he raises them to his lips.
With my eyes on him—probably the whole goddamned restaurant’s as well—he slides his fingers into his mouth, his eyes twinkling darkly at me.
“Delicious,” he murmurs, and if I’d been standing up, my knees would have buckled at the sound of his voice. As it is, I’m not sure I can stand.
I can see everyone in the restaurant quickly looking away, back to their meals. “Do you think they know?” I whisper tremulously, and Liam laughs.
“If they do, they’ll never let on. But whatIknow, lass, is that I’ll need a moment before I can stand up.” He chuckles, and I feel him against my hand as I slide it across his lap, hard and throbbing, straining against his fly. “Go clean up, lass. I’ll tell the car to come around in a few.”
Liam smiles at me, reaching for my hand and raising the back of it to his lips.
“The night isn’t finished yet.”
NINE
ANA
It takes me a moment in the bathroom to regain my composure. I clean up quickly, washing my hands, grateful to see that at least I hadn’t made a mess of the back of my skirt. My knees still feel weak, my fingers trembling, but I take a deep breath, fixing my lipstick in the mirror, and looking at my flushed, glowing face.
I look like a woman who just had one of the best orgasms of her life. I look like a woman in love. The first I know is true, and the second—I’m almost certain of it.
How could I not love Liam? He kept secrets from me, it’s true, but with a calmer head, I can understand his reasoning. I can see why he might have done so. He’s crossed a literal ocean for me, given me everything I could desire, shown me that he wants me to distraction, and sworn his love to me. What else could I possibly want?
I feel almost giddy as I leave the bathroom, clutch in hand, heading for the restaurant's lobby, where I know he’ll be waiting for me.He'd said the night isn’t finished, and I’m eager to find out what comes next andwhat he has planned for us. It’s already been everything I could possibly have dreamed—beyond that, even, and I can feel the butterflies in my stomach as I walk out to meet him.
He’s standing there waiting for me, tall and handsome in his impeccably cut suit, his hair and beard burnished red beneath the lights. Liam smiles at me, taking my hand in his long-fingered one as he leads me out to the curb, and I shiver, thinking of those fingers between my thighs a moment ago. He opens the door to the car for me, and I glance at him as he slides inside, a sudden idea forming in my head.
“How far until where we’re going next?” I ask softly, and Liam glances at me curiously.
“A few miles, though it’ll probably take longer than it should, in Friday night Boston traffic. Why?”
“Put the divider up,” I whisper, and Liam’s eyes widen.
I wonder if he’ll try to stop me. But the rule is no sex until I’m his and his alone, nointercourse,and he’s made me climax numerous times between the last time we tried to sleep together and now. He just made me come in front of an entire restaurant, one of the most memorable orgasms of my life, and now I want to do something for him.
He opens his mouth as if to say something, but then closes it.
The divider between the driver and us darkens, and I lean over, my fingers reaching for his belt.
“Ana, you don’t have to—”
“I know. Iwantto.” I mean it, with everything in me. I’ve craved the taste of him, the feeling of him, to touch him and hear the sounds that he’s sworn only I can elicit from him. I want to see him, and in the close, cool darkness of the backseat of the car, I undo his belt, dragging his zipper down and slipping my hand inside.
He’s already hard again, just from the anticipation. I slip him out into the open air, every long, hard, throbbing inch of him, and as my hand tightens around his shaft, I hear him groan low in his throat.
There’s no time to tease him. There might be traffic, but a few miles is a few miles. I push my hair to one side, bending my head to lower my lips to the damp, slick flesh of his tip, and when I swirl my tongue around it, lapping up his arousal, I feel Liam’s fingers run through my hair.
