Chapter 25 Liam #2
My thoughts scatter, ricocheting between fear and want, between everything we’re not allowed to be and everything my body is screaming for anyway.
This shouldn’t be happening. Not here. Not between us.
I’ve spent weeks pulling away, forcing distance where none wants to exist, convincing myself that restraint is the same thing as safety.
But being this close to him, with his hand still holding my face like it belongs there, I realize how fragile that lie has always been.
His breath ghosts across my mouth when he exhales, and my chest tightens painfully.
I can feel the shape of his body now, the rise of his sternum, the subtle shift of his weight, the way he angles toward me without touching, like he’s waiting for permission he’ll never ask for.
The space between us is so thin it hums, charged and alive, thick with everything we haven’t said.
Something inside me finally gives way.
I move before I can stop myself, closing the distance in one reckless motion, my hand fisting in the fabric of his shirt as I pull him into me.
My mouth finds his with no finesse, no careful testing, just months of want crashing down at once.
The kiss isn’t soft. It isn’t exploratory.
It’s raw and hungry and unrestrained, like I’ve been starving and he’s the only thing that can keep me alive.
Theo inhales sharply against my lips, surprise flickering through him for half a heartbeat before he melts into it.
His mouth opens beneath mine, warm and yielding, and the sound he makes, low and breathless, shoots straight through me.
His fingers tighten in my hair, not pulling me away, not pushing me closer, just anchoring me there as if he’s afraid I might disappear.
I don’t stop. I can’t.
I kiss him deeper, harder, pouring everything I’ve been holding back into the press of my mouth against his.
The world narrows to sensation, the slide of his lips, the heat of his breath, the way his body responds to mine like it’s been waiting for this too.
When his tongue brushes mine, slow and deliberate, my restraint shatters completely.
I break the kiss only to drag in a breath, foreheads touching, my pulse roaring in my ears. My hands come up to brace against the stone behind him, boxing him in without touching, my body close enough that he can feel every tremor running through me.
“You have no idea what you’re doing to me,” I murmur, the words rough, almost a confession.
His answer is a soft sound against my mouth, felt more than heard.
His hands slide down from my hair to my sides, palms warm and steady, grounding me even as my thoughts spiral.
He isn’t afraid. He isn’t pulling back. He’s here, meeting me exactly where I am, and that realization is what finally undoes me.
I lean in again, slower this time, letting the kiss linger, letting the heat build instead of explode.
Our mouths move together with aching precision, every brush of lips deliberate, every breath shared.
His body presses closer, chest to chest now, and I feel the unmistakable response there, hard proof that this isn’t one-sided, that I’m not alone in this dangerous want.
The realization sends a sharp thrill through me.
My mouth trails from his lips to the line of his jaw, then down the sensitive skin of his neck, tasting him, breathing him in.
He tilts his head back instinctively, exposing more, his breath stuttering as my lips find the pulse beating there.
I linger, not biting, not rushing, just claiming the moment, knowing it might be all we’re allowed.
When I lift my head again, we’re both breathing hard, bodies flushed, the night around us utterly silent.
And I know, without a shred of doubt, that there’s no going back from this.
His breath is unsteady now, matching mine, soft exhalations falling against my lips like heat.
I’ve never been this close to him, never like this, and every second of it is unraveling me.
The air around us doesn’t feel cold anymore.
Clinging to my skin as Theo shifts subtly, tilting his face up like he’s searching for more. And gods, I want to give it to him.
His hands slide up my sides beneath my shirt, fingers trailing over bare skin, and the contact makes my entire body jerk.
Then his hand shifts lower.
He traces a path down the center of my stomach, each inch a test, a silent question.
And I give him the answer in the way I don’t move.
The way I lean into his touch.
The way my mouth crashes back into his, all tongue and teeth and desperate need.
I’m burning from the inside out, clinging to the feel of his hand splayed against my abdomen, lower now, hovering just above the waistband of my pants.
There’s nothing gentle in this anymore. No denial.
Just the sharp, pulsing truth that we’ve been circling this for too long and tonight it’s eating us alive.
His fingers dip lower, ghosting just below the waistline, and my hips rise into the touch before I can stop myself. I groan into his mouth, a ragged, helpless sound, as his hand slides just a little further.
My body answers him with no hesitation.
Gods, please don’t stop.
But then, Theo stills.
His hand pauses just above the button of my pants, resting there like he knows exactly what comes next and is teetering on the edge of crossing it.
I feel his breath catch. Not from hesitation. From awareness.
We’re still outside.
The stone wall is cold against his back. The mist still curls around our ankles, and not twenty feet away, voices carry faintly in the wind, professors, students, footsteps on wet stone. This place is never fully empty. And what we’re doing…
Theo exhales slowly, forehead pressing into mine, his hand withdrawing with reluctant care. His fingers curl at his side, like it physically hurts to stop.
“I want to,” he whispers, voice raw, aching. “I want to so badly, Liam.”
My chest tightens. I close my eyes, trying to breathe through the ache that settles in my ribs when the space between us opens just slightly, enough to let in the cold again. Enough to remind us both where we are. What this could cost.
“I know,” I whisper back, throat tight. “Me too.”
For a second, neither of us moves.
Our bodies are still flushed, still strung tight with need, still buzzing from everything we almost did. My hands tremble as I lower them, brushing against his arms, wanting to pull him back in and knowing I shouldn’t.
He leans against the wall, trying to catch his breath, his face turned slightly toward mine. “If we go any further… I won’t be able to stop.”
The warning isn’t a threat. It’s a promise.
And I want to break it so badly it hurts.
But not here.
Not with the risk of being seen. Not when even this, just kissing him, is already crossing a line we’re not supposed to acknowledge.
“We’ll find a better place,” I murmur. “Somewhere safe.”
Theo nods slowly, even as his jaw clenches, the restraint in his body still trembling.
“Somewhere I can touch you the way I want to,” he says softly, almost to himself. “All of you.”
And fuck, if that doesn’t wreck me all over again.