Chapter 18
POV: Maeve?
I wasn’t sure exactly what to do or even say.
Here, Liam was, sitting across from me, actually sharing intimate details of his life with me, after he just iced me.
And for some reason, I welcomed it, even after the pang of hurt I felt when he ignored me.
I had forgiven him, just like that. And usually I didn’t.
Normally with men, I made my opinions quite immediately. I wrote them off and never spoke to them again, because well, frankly, it was easy for me to do so.
But with Liam, my opinion just expanded.
Everytime, I thought I knew him or how I felt about him, he surprised me and my opinion changed—morphed into something else.
That was the thing about him—he made me want to get to know him.
And the other thing about him was that I was fiercely, if not, overly attracted to him.
My eyes traced over his body, admiring him—his whiskey colored eyes, the sharpness of his jaw, the contour of his muscles around the flannel shirt he was wearing.
A dozen ideas fluttered in my mind.
All bad ideas. All horrible ideas. And all ideas involving Liam and I naked, beside candlelight, with our moans drowning out any rational thoughts.
“We’re out of wine,” I replied, getting to my feet and turning my back to him.
Anything to put a few inches of space between the two of us, since the tension basically crackled like lighting strikes.
The fresh bottle of red wine rested in my hands—cold, unnerving, but it made me think for a moment.
Think about my next step.
Then I felt him. Behind me.
And I nearly dropped the wine as I spun around and faced him.
He smirked, bringing his palm to the wine and taking it from my hands with an ease I didn’t have at the moment. “Be careful,” he warned. “Glass can easily break.”
And something else inside me was breaking, too.
My self control.
He pushed my back gently into the kitchen countertop as his chiseled body rested against mine.
I could barely breathe let alone speak.
Luckily, Liam did it for the both of us.
“Nervous?” he teased, as his thumb stroked my cheek. “I thought we were over that.”
I found my confidence. “And I thought you just came here for dinner.”
He chuckled, low and deep, and it sent shivers down my spine. “Touche.”
“I knew it,” I whispered.
“Knew what?”
“That you came here to fuck, too.”
I didn’t regret saying the words and I ddin’t hate him for wanting to fuck me again. In fact, it excited me.
I wanted to feel him inside me again. I wanted to hear him talk dirty to me. I wanted to hear him come undone inside me.
“It’s not just that,” he replied, softer this time, as his fingers found their way to my collarbone. “I came here to talk, to have dinner…” his voice fell silent then. “But I would be a liar if I said I wasn’t thinking about it.”
I didn’t wait a second. “Me too.”
He cocked an eyebrow, “you too?”
Then without another word I kissed him.
Our lips fell into each other and I didn’t stop to even breathe.
I needed his lips to live. I needed his lips to feel alive. I needed him.
Suddenly, my hands were around his shoulders, lopped and pulled him down and into my kiss, then his hands were on my waistside, rough and possessive.
Then without warning, he lifted me into his arms, looked down at me with the same eyes I wanted to drown in, and said, “Where’s your bedroom?”
And I laughed, I couldn’t help it.
He smirked, “Something funny? We could have sex outside instead, give the lambs something to talk about.”
“No, no,” I laughed, as he tickled my side. “Bedroom’s fine,” I waved my hand toward the hallway and the right door.
Liam wasn’t slow about his steps, neither was he soft about closing the bedroom door.
Within a minute, I was staring up at him with my heart battering inside my chest.
He threw his flannel to the floor, then dragged his shirt over his head, exposing his perfectly chiseled muscles and his dark tattoos. And I couldn’t help but stare.
“You’re staring,” he mocked as leaned over me, his hands on both sides of my body.
I gently pushed him off of me and began undressing, tugging my jeans off, with his assistance, then my top over my head, leaving myself in a lacy thong and bra.
“You’re staring,” I mocked back.
Then his thumb hooked under the straps of my bra, tugging them down, one and a time, agonizingly slow. “It’s hard not to, especially when I haven’t seen you like this.”
“Oh, I forgot,” I quipped, rolling my eyes. “The first time we had sex was so romantic that we barely took any clothes off and the only sight you got a load of was my ass.”
“And what a sight it was,” he laughed, licking his lips.
Without warning, he reached behind my back and unhooked my bra then tossed my bra to the floor. “Glorious.”
“Oh?” I smiled, feeling my cheeks redden.
Then he took one of my nipples in his mouth and twirled his tongue around, causing my back to arch.
“Liam,” I muttered, weakly.
Once he was done torturing me with his tongue, he moved lower, kissing my stomach as he did and edging dangerously close to my core.
He slipped my panties off with one swift tug, then without warning, ran his tongue along my clit.
And god, it felt amazing.
“Liam!” I cried out, lacing my hands through his hair roughly.
He didn’t speak, instead he just kept licking me and sucking me, until I was near my edge, and nearly convulsing. Then he doubled down, looking up at me as he did, then sucking harder and licking faster until my legs clenched around his head and I cried out.
His beard was dripping with me when he pushed himself up, lifted my legs around his waist then entered me in one slow, unbearable thrust.
I groaned, as I looked up at him.
I hooked my legs around his waist, tightly.
His eyes were full of heat as he thrusted again inside me, “slow, this time,” he whispered in between a groan.
“Slow,” I echoed, releasing the grip of my legs a bit then running my hand across his chest.
He pressed his chest into me then nuzzled his face into the crook of my neck as he thrusted again and again, each thrust slower and more drawn out than the last.
But it was unbearable, the way I felt each inch of his cock prodding inside me, demanding that I feel everything—over and over again.
His pace was steady as he prodded inside me, each stroke of his cock was methodical.
His lips pressed against my neck, as he set soft kisses into my neck to the pace of each long, drawn out thrust. I’ve never felt such intimacy in my life. I’ve never felt such a connection.
His thrusts picked up their pace, as he whispered into my ear, “Maeve,” then collapsed gently beside me.
We both lay there in pure euphoria as we stared up at the ceiling, naked, exposed, and reeling from the intimacy we had just experienced.
Then I felt it.
His hand squeezing mine.
“I thought you would’ve ran out by now,” I teased, turning to look at him.
“I find the middle of the night the best time to duck out,” he shrugged, teasing me as he turned to his side and wrapped his arm around my waist, tugging me closer to him.
“Haha, very funny,” I mocked.
“This—” he began.
“This was alright.” I smirked.
“Alright?” he scoffed, tickling me. “I thought I showed you better than alright.”
“Maybe when you did that thing with your tongue,” I shrugged, nestling myself under the blanket.
He followed me, tucking himself in too.
But I knew it was more than alright. It was incredible. And I’ve never felt that way with a man before. I never felt so…..connected to someone before.
And I was hoping he felt the same.