Chapter 4 #3
When his eyes met hers, the intimacy in his stare caused Frankie’s world to tilt a few degrees, as if a secret had just been spoken in a language only the two of them could understand.
She’d never seen the look he had in his eyes.
The intensity was so private, so personal.
If it was anyone but Liam, she would have felt like she was seeing something she wasn’t supposed to.
But it was him, so she couldn’t look away.
What happened next took her by complete surprise.
Until that night, Liam had always treated her like a doll, like she might break.
He was measured, careful, and protective.
But this energy was different. It was reckless, unguarded, and even…
dangerous. His hand slid up her jaw, thumb grazing her cheekbone, and he pulled her closer with a gentleness that bordered on reverence.
His lips found hers—soft, at first, barely there, like he was testing the illusion before daring to touch the reality.
The kiss was nothing like she’d shared with her high school boyfriend or other guys she’d made out with at parties.
Liam kissed her like she was the only thing tethering him to earth.
There was a hunger in him, a desperation, but also an impossible restraint, like he was afraid she’d vanish if he moved too quickly.
Frankie’s hands found his shoulders—broad and warm even through the thin fabric of his t-shirt.
He held her close, possessively. It felt like he was letting himself drown in her.
She’d never felt so powerful or so needed.
His mouth moved over hers, slow and searching, asking questions she couldn’t answer with words.
She threaded her fingers through his hair, tugging him closer.
His hand splayed across her lower back, holding her steady as her knees went weak.
At the first wobble, he gripped her thighs and pulled her onto his lap so she was straddling him, one knee on either side of him, the thin cotton of her dress riding up her thighs as she pressed closer.
Liam’s breath hitched, and for a second, he pulled back to look at her—not just a glance, but a long, searching look, as if memorizing her face.
The tip of his nose brushed hers, and she felt the soft tremble of his inhale before he kissed her again, this time harder, deeper.
His hand cradled the back of her head, fingers curling into her hair, while his other palm slid up her outer thigh, slow and deliberate, igniting a trail of goosebumps in its wake.
Frankie rolled her hips into him, her core grinding against his rock-hard erection pinned behind the zipper of his slacks.
As she moved faster, chasing the friction, the pleasure, a deep groan ripped from the back of Liam’s throat as his body tensed, every muscle taut as her hands explored his shoulders and back.
She kissed him with everything she had, tasting grief and longing and something she’d been starving for—him.
His hands moved with increasing urgency, one cupping her nape, the other gripping her thigh, then her hip, then—so slowly it made her shiver—the curve of her ass.
He broke the kiss, breathless, and pressed his forehead to hers. “Frankie,” he whispered, her name was a confession, a plea, a warning.
She didn’t want to stop, so she arched her back and tugged the fabric of her dress covering her shoulders down, taking her bra straps with it, exposing her breasts.
Liam exhaled a deep, animalistic growl, like he’d been holding his breath for years before his mouth closed over her left nipple.
She gasped as his warm, velvet-soft tongue licked her puckered flesh, sending a bolt of sensation shooting through her.
Her fingers tightened in his hair as he sucked and flicked his tongue, swirling and teasing her nub.
His teeth grazed and nipped just enough to make her squirm.
He kept one arm wrapped around her back, holding her in place, while his other hand slid up her leg, under her dress, and this time he didn’t stop at her hip.
He dipped between her thighs, found the edge of her panties, tugged them aside, and slipped his fingers beneath the silk.
Frankie clutched his shoulders, bracing herself, but nothing could have prepared her for the way his touch undid her, made her forget the world outside the room entirely.
The first press of his finger was gentle and exploratory, but then he found her clit, circling with exquisite slowness before flicking it lightly.
At the same instant, he bit down softly on her nipple, and every neuron in her body fired at once.
Frankie bucked against his hand, and he matched her rhythm, his thumb working her pleasure button in time with the steady pressure of his tongue.
She could feel herself getting wetter, could feel the heat building in her core, and she moaned, shameless and raw.
He kept at it, relentless and patient at the same time, coaxing her higher and higher until the release crested and snapped inside her.
She came hard, shuddering, every muscle seizing and then melting all at once.
Liam held her through it, murmuring her name into her skin, his tongue tracing the tiny goosebumps on the outer edges of her areolas before pressing soft kisses to the top of her breast and neck as she tried to catch her breath.
When she finally floated back to reality, she collapsed against him, boneless, burying her face in his shoulder.
He wrapped both arms around her, enveloping her completely, and held her as if she was the one who needed comforting.
His hand stroked her back, slow and steady, and with the other, he traced lazy circles over her hip, coming to rest just above her waistband.
After a few minutes, when her head stopped spinning, Liam shifted, he was lying on his back on the bed.
He pulled her close, tucking her into the crook of his arm so her head rested on his chest. His heartbeat was still racing, and Frankie smiled into the fabric of his shirt, feeling the thrum beneath her cheek.
They stayed like that for a long time. He kept running his fingers through her hair, occasionally dropping a kiss onto the crown of her head.
Neither of them spoke, it felt like talking would break the spell, or worse, invite in the world outside his bedroom.
She wanted more, wanted him to be her first, but she didn’t tell him that.
Instead, at some point, she fell asleep… and when she woke up, he was gone.
That was the last time she’d seen or spoken to him—until she saw him walking towards her in the emergency room.