Chapter 11 #2
“And now,” I add, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze, “I’m hearing we have two hours to kill.”
I let the words hang there, heavy and electric.
“Plenty of time,” I finish, my smile slow and wicked, “for that cowboy to rock my world properly.”
For half a second, Liam doesn’t move. And then the leash snaps.
He surges forward with a growl, hands locking around my waist, lifting me onto the kitchen counter.
The granite bites into the backs of my thighs, cold and sharp, but all I can feel is him.
His mouth crashes into mine, hot and demanding, no hesitation this time, no slow buildup.
Just pure, devastating need.
I fist my hands in his shirt, yanking him closer, tugging at the fabric until I feel seams straining under my grip.
Liam pushes between my thighs, fitting there like he was made for it, his body pressing into mine with a force that steals the air from my lungs.
His hands roam everywhere at once. Rough palms skating up my sides, tangling in my hair, gripping my hips like he’s trying to brand the memory of me into his skin.
I tug his shirt over his head, tossing it somewhere behind me, not caring where it lands. He pulls mine over my head just as fast, his mouth finding the curve of my shoulder, the hollow of my throat, nipping and sucking bruises he’s not even pretending to hide.
My head falls back with a moan, legs tightening around his hips, pulling him impossibly closer.
“Fuck, honey,” he rasps against my skin. “You’re gonna ruin me.”
“You’re the one ruining me,” I gasp, raking my nails down his back hard enough to make him shudder.
His hands find the waistband of my jeans, making quick, fumbling work of them, cursing under his breath when they get stuck halfway down my thighs.
I laugh breathlessly, shoving at them until they’re gone, kicking them off across the kitchen.
We’re a mess of tangled limbs, fevered touches, desperate kisses, like we’ll never get enough, like we’re trying to make up for every second we spent pretending we didn’t want this. Didn’t need this.
He yanks his own jeans down just enough to free himself, and then, God, he’s there, thick and hot and so ready against me.
“Last chance to stop me,” he grits out.
I cup his face in both hands, pulling him down until our mouths almost meet.
“Don’t you dare.”
With a growl that vibrates all the way through me, he thrusts inside, burying himself to the hilt in one long, perfect stroke. I cry out, clutching at his shoulders, the sensation too much, too good, too everything.
He swallows the sound with a kiss, moving inside me with a rhythm that's fast, frantic, filthy and perfect, his hands gripping my hips so hard I know I’ll wear his fingerprints tomorrow, and I want them. I want all of it.
Liam’s thrusts are hard, deep, relentless. Each one knocking another broken, gasping sound from my lips. I cling to him, nails digging into his back, legs wrapped tight around his waist, anchoring him to me.
He mutters low curses into my skin, his hands everywhere. Gripping my ass, palming my breasts, yanking me closer, grinding against me in a way that makes my vision blur at the edges.
“You’re fuckin’ perfect,” he growls, his voice so raw it scrapes down my spine, making my body shudder.
I can’t breathe. I can’t think. All I can do is feel.
The heat of him. The stretch, the burn, the way he fills me so perfectly it’s like he was made to fit inside me.
I arch into him, a ragged, desperate whimper escaping me when his thumb finds my clit, pressing down with ruthless precision, circling just right, drawing tight spirals of pleasure that make my muscles lock.
“That’s it,” he grits out, watching me fall apart with a look that borders on reverent. “Come for me, honey. Let me feel you squeeze my dick.”
And God help me, I do.
The orgasm rips through me like a wildfire, white-hot and violent, stealing the air from my lungs. I sob his name, body clamping down around him, trembling so hard it feels like I’m coming apart in his hands.
He doesn't stop.
He holds me there until the pleasure spirals into something so sharp and overwhelming that I’m pleading for him without even meaning to.
“Please, Liam,” I gasp, tears burning the backs of my eyes. “Please.”
And that’s what undoes him.
With a guttural growl, he slams into me once, twice more, then stills, his entire body locking up as he buries himself deep, pouring into me with a raw, broken cry against my neck.
We cling to each other, shaking, gasping, desperate to stay connected even as the aftershocks roll through us.
When he finally manages to catch his breath, he whispers it so soft I almost think I imagine it. “Mine.”
A broken whimper catches in my throat. Because I am. God, I am. And I don’t want to be anything else.
Without breaking our connection, Liam scoops me up, his arms solid around me, his mouth brushing a kiss against my temple, and carries me the few steps to the living room.
He sinks down onto the couch, pulling me with him so I’m straddling his lap.
He’s still buried deep inside me, thick and hot, and the moment I shift tightening around him without meaning to, he lets out a guttural groan that vibrates straight through me.
“Fuck,” he grits out, gripping my hips hard enough to leave marks. “You drive me crazy, honey. Make me want to do so many filthy things.”
A shiver rolls through me. Leaning forward, I let my breasts brush against his chest, loving the way the coarse hair teases my sensitive, already aching nipples. The roughness, the heat, the overwhelming feel of him sends sparks shooting straight to my core.
I slide my hands into his hair, tugging gently, and then lean in to nip at his earlobe, my breath hot and shaking.
“Do them,” I whisper, so desperate it’s practically a plea. “Do all of them.”
Something snaps in Liam’s eyes.
The heat between us reignites so fast it’s like striking a match in a room filled with gasoline. He grips my ass, grinding me down onto him, his cock still thick and pulsing inside me.
“You don’t know what you’re asking for, honey,” he growls against my throat, nipping just hard enough to make me moan.
I roll my hips in slow, deliberate circles, feeling every inch of him, watching him unravel.
“Then show me,” I breathe, nails scraping lightly over his scalp.
Liam surges up, catching my mouth in a brutal, searing kiss, all tongue and teeth and pure, hungry possession. He rocks up into me, thrusting slow but deep, and I break the kiss with a cry, clutching at his shoulders as my body clenches down around him again.
He catches my hips, holding me still, forcing me to take every long, deliberate thrust exactly the way he wants to give it.
“Gonna fuck you so good you forget your own name,” he mutters against my mouth, dragging his tongue along my lower lip before biting down just enough to make me gasp.
I brace my hands on his chest, riding him now, matching his rhythm, lost in the overwhelming drag and burn of his cock, the way his hands guide me like he owns every inch of me.
And maybe he does.
Maybe he always has.
The room spins, the only thing real the slide of skin, the wet, filthy sounds of us, the raw groans Liam lets out every time I clench around him.
The tight coil inside me winds tighter, sharper, until I’m panting against his mouth, begging without words.
And just when I think I can’t take another second, he slides a hand between us, finding my clit with ruthless, perfect precision.
I fall apart again with a shattered cry, clenching down so hard around him that Liam curses, slamming up into me with a broken, desperate rhythm.
“Mine,” he growls again, over and over like a litany, a prayer.
“Yours,” I sob, clutching him tighter as he loses himself inside me all over again, filling me with his heat and his love and his wreckage.
When it’s over, when the tremors finally ease and the only sound left is our breathing, he cradles my face in his rough hands. And he kisses me like he’s putting the pieces of me back together. Piece by beautiful, ruined piece.