Chapter 15
I wake to the slow, teasing glide of Liam’s fingers between my thighs. A soft, needy moan slips from my lips before I’m even fully conscious.
“Mmm,” I hum, stretching like a cat, arching into his touch. “This is a nice way to wake up.”
He chuckles against my skin. A rough, wicked sound that sends heat flooding through me. His mouth finds my nipple, sucking it into the heat of his mouth with a slow, aching pull that has me gasping, my fingers threading into his messy hair.
“I was thinking,” he says lazily, his voice thick with sleep and hunger, “that we could go furniture shopping today.”
“Oh?” I manage, even as my body is already trembling for more. “And what about the BBQ Teddy’s expecting to see us at?”
He moves to my other breast, his tongue flicking over the sensitive peak before he drags it into his mouth with a growl that vibrates straight through me.
“Fuck,” he mutters against my skin. “I can’t wait to see these full of milk for our baby.”
I groan, arching harder into him, completely forgetting what we’re even talking about.
His words shouldn’t be as hot as they are, but coming from him? In that voice? It’s lethal. And do I want to have his babies one day? Absolutely.
I clutch at his shoulders, trying to anchor myself.
“Liam,” I gasp, my voice half-laughing, half-pleading. “Focus.”
He lifts his head, grinning like the devil himself.
“Fine,” he drawls, dropping a kiss to my bare stomach. “Here’s the plan.”
He trails a line of kisses lower, each one stealing a little more of my sanity.
“I’m going to make love to you,” he says casually, like he's discussing the weather. “Once. Maybe twice.”
My breath hitches.
“Then,” he continues, sliding two fingers slowly, teasingly inside me, “we’ll do some online ordering. Pick out furniture. Rugs. Maybe a new mattress since we're gonna wear this one out.”
I can barely breathe because it feels so good.
“After that,” he murmurs, thrusting his fingers deeper, “more sex.”
He flashes me a wicked smile.
“Then we’ll go to Teddy’s little BBQ. Play nice. Look pretty.”
I’m whimpering now, my hips rocking into his hand shamelessly.
“And we’ll end the night,” he finishes, his thumb brushing over my clit, making my whole-body jerk, “right back here.”
“In bed,” I manage to choke out. “With more sex.”
“I see you understand the assignment,” he says, leaning up to kiss me, full of every filthy, tender promise he’s made.
I laugh, breathless and aching and so in love it’s stupid, and Liam doesn’t waste any time. He shifts over me, his body hot and heavy and so fucking solid against mine, like he’s determined to erase any doubt that I belong to him now in every way that matters.
“Here comes round one,” he murmurs against my throat, his voice a low, filthy rasp.
I shudder as he nudges my thighs wider with his knee, lining himself up with an unhurried precision that makes me crazy. He pushes in slowly, so achingly slow I swear I feel every inch of him, the stretch deep and perfect, making my back arch off the bed.
“Fuck, honey,” he groans, his hands bracketing my hips, holding me still so he can sink in all the way, “You’re still so fucking tight. Like you were made for me.”
I whimper, wrapping my legs around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer.
Made for him.
Only him.
He stays still for a beat, both of us panting like we’ve just run a marathon.
And then he starts to move. Long, slow, devastating thrusts that feel like they’re going to unmake me. He kisses me between every thrust, his mouth soft and sure, whispering things against my lips that make my heart ache even as my body begs for more.
The heat builds slowly, a simmering, overwhelming pressure that has me clawing at his back, my cries muffled against his mouth.
He grinds deep on every stroke, hitting every spot inside me that makes stars explode behind my eyes.
And when I come shaking, gasping his name like a prayer, he’s right there with me, groaning low and broken against my mouth as he follows me over the edge.
We lie there afterward, tangled up, sweaty and spent, our bodies still pressed tight together like we’re afraid of losing even an inch of contact.
I’m still catching my breath when he brushes my hair back from my face, kisses my forehead, and grins down at me.
“You still good for twice, honey?” he teases, already sliding his hand down between us, finding the slick, sensitive place where we’re still joined.
I can barely form words.
All I can do is nod and whimper as he thrusts into me again, harder this time, rougher, no slow build-up. Just raw, relentless, beautiful ruin.
“Good,” he growls against my ear, pinning my hands above my head with one strong hand as he drives into me. “Because I'm not stopping until you know exactly who you belong to.”
“You,” I pant, still clinging to him, still trembling.
“That's fucking right,” Liam growls, hips grinding down in a final, brutal thrust that sends both of us spiraling.
I scream his name, my body writhing under his as he roars through his own release, collapsing against me with a shudder. We lie there, boneless, gasping for air, the room spinning around us.
I’m just starting to come down when the doorbell rings.
We both groan in unison.
“I swear to God,” Liam mutters, pressing a kiss to my collarbone as he rolls off me, reaching blindly for his boxers. “If that’s Charlie again…”
I laugh breathlessly, tugging the tangled sheets up around me.
“Third time’s a charm,” I tease.
He glances over his shoulder with a wicked grin. “Hmm. I like the way you think. Once I send Charlie on her way, we’ll talk about a third round in here.”
I giggle, flopping back against the bed, completely blissed out.
But when minutes pass and Liam doesn't come back a prickle of unease crawls down my spine.
Still wrapped in the afterglow, I tug on one of his shirts and my jeans, padding barefoot down the hall toward the living room.
I round the corner and slam straight into a wall of tension so thick it nearly chokes me.
Liam stands near the doorway, his body rigid with barely leashed anger. Staring him down with that same cold, sharp glint in his eyes is his father. Even without hearing a word, I know. This isn’t a friendly visit. The air crackles around them.
Both men are tall, broad-shouldered, and stubborn to the bone, but while Liam's rage feels righteous and protective, his father's presence feels toxic.
Whatever this is, it’s not good.
And somehow, deep down, I know that whatever happens next it changes everything.