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The pain in Alexandre’s face, the heartbreak, is difficult to see. He’d had a strange way of showing it, but if I’d ever wondered before then if he’d loved me, I know at that moment that he did. The look on his face isn’t one of a man losing a possession or an investment. It’s the look of a man whose broken heart is shattering all over again.
But I can’t be the one to heal it.
“You’re letting them go.”
It’s a statement, not a question, said in Yvette’s voice. None of us heard her come in, too caught up in the tension ricocheting among the three of us. But now Liam and I turn towards her, still hand in hand.
“Get out of the way,” I tell her sharply. She’s standing in front of the door, blocking my path.
“Do you want me to kill them both, Alexandre?” Yvette’s hand twitches towards the back of her cigarette-leg capris, under her blazer, and I know in that instant that she’s armed. I don’t know why I’m surprised.
“Stop, Yvette.” Alexandre’s voice sounds dead, flat—emotionless. “Let them pass.”
“But—” Her eyes widen. “No! You said you were going to keep her, make her pay for leaving you, that you’d make him pay for what he did to me—”
“Let them pass,” Alexandre repeats. “Don’t make me say it again, Yvette, or it will be you on your knees, and you won’t enjoy it.”
Her face pales, but she steps aside. Liam’s hand tightens on mine, and he strides forward, obviously trying to get us both out of the room as quickly as possible before Alexandre can change his mind. And I don’t disagree.
Not even once we’re in the elevator do I feel like I can breathe. If I’m being honest, I’m not sure if I’ll ever be able to relax fully again.
---
Our ride home was quiet. But the instant we’re inside the penthouse, Liam shuts the front door and locks it, his hands on my waist as he grabs me and turns me, pushing me back against it so fiercely that the air rushes out of me in a gasp.
When his mouth crashes down on mine, it steals every last bit of breath in my lungs.
Liam’s hands bury themselves in my hair, dragging my lips to his, as he kisses me like a starving man. His hips press against mine, his cock rock hard and throbbing against me, and I gasp with pleasure as his tongue thrusts into my mouth, tasting me, devouring me as his hands cup my face, slide to my breasts, over my ribs, and waist, as if he can’t get enough of me.
“I have to make you come,” he gasps. “I have to fucking feel you come, Ana,god—” His hands are on the waist of the yoga pants I’m still wearing from earlier, dragging them over my hips with my panties, yanking them down to mid-thigh so that I can’t get my legs more than a few inches apart, but Liam doesn’t seem to care. He’s still kissing me, his tongue in my mouth, sucking my lower lip, his teeth grazing against the edge as his fingers thrust between my legs, sliding between my folds and into me instantly.
“Christ, you’re sopping wet,” he groans, his fingers pumping into me hard, his thumb finding my clit and rolling over it, pressing, rubbing, until I’m moaning into his mouth. “Fucking come for me, Ana, come as hard as you can—I need to feel that pussy around my fingers,pleasefucking come for me—”
It bursts over me so hard and fast that it takes my breath away. I’ve never orgasmed so fast in my life. Liam’s mouth is relentless on mine, his fingers fucking me as hard as his cock ever has, curling and pressing against that sensitive spot, rubbing, his thumb circling the slick nub of my clit, and he groans against my mouth as I clench tightly around him, my pussy squeezing his fingers in a death grip. His other hand fists in my shirt, dragging it upwards until I think he’s going to actually rip it. However, he breaks the kiss, yanking it over my head with his fingers still buried inside me.
“Not enough,” he groans against my mouth. “Not ever enough—”
For a split second, I think he’s going to fuck me there, against the door. But he drags his fingers out of my pussy instead, sweeping me into his arms and carrying me the few yards to the sofa in the living room before depositing me on it upright, kneeling in front of me on the hardwood.
His hands slide under my sports bra, pulling it off, his thumbs brushing over my nipples and making me moan as he yanks it over my head and throws it aside. “I have to taste you,” Liam groans, his hands going to my inner thighs, spreading my legs so far apart that I’m nearly doing the splits as he stares at my pussy, opening in front of his eyes like a wet, swollen peach, my clit throbbing as he looks at me spread open for him.
“You have the most beautiful fucking pussy,” Liam murmurs, reaching between my thighs with one hand to rub his thumb from my entrance up my slit, dipping inside momentarily before going all the way up to my clit and circling it. “And I’m going to eat it until you scream, Ana.”
And then he leans forward, his head delving between my thighs.
I gasp aloud when his hot tongue runs over my folds, lapping up the arousal dripping from my entrance before he slides it up to my clit. His hands hold me firmly open as he devours my pussy, my already oversensitive clit pulsing at the onslaught of his tongue. It feels so good. I’m not sure if anything has ever felt as good as Liam going down on me, except his cock inside of me. I’m already gripping the edges of the sofa, panting as his tongue circles my clit, laps at it, sucks it into his mouth, and I know he’s going to make me come just as hard as the first time when he squeezes my thighs, pressing his mouth as tightly against my pussy as he can as he groans, the vibrations running over my swollen flesh and sending me tumbling over the edge.
“Liam!” I scream his name aloud, one hand going to his hair, tangling in it as my hips jerk upwards, grinding against his face as my head falls back, and I gasp. I feel like I can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t do anything other than gasp and writhe against him as he keeps going, one hand sliding between my legs and two fingers thrusting into me to prolong the orgasm, keep it going as I shudder and grind against his mouth, coming hard on his tongue.
It feels like it goes on forever. He doesn’t come up for air until I’m limp against the couch. I watch dazedly as he slips his fingers out of me, lazily licking them clean like a fucking housecat as he looks at me.
“You’re delicious, Ana,” he murmurs. “And I’ll make you come like that every day for the rest of your life if you want, if you stay with me.” He slides up onto the couch next to me, pulling my naked body into his lap, against him, his lips pressed against my hair.
“Just stay with me,” he whispers. And at that moment, more than anything else in the world, that’s what I want to do.
EIGHTEEN
LIAM
