29. Liam #3
I brush a damp strand of hair back from her cheek. “Don’t tell me you want to give it back.”
“No. I want you to stop hiding the rest.” Her hand trails along the edge of my mask. The line of the fox’s cheek. The curve of its snout.
Temptation? Invitation? Or inevitability?
Outside this place, she speaks my language. Dogs. Hawks. Owls. A woman who kneels in dirt without hesitation and cares without calculation. And when it comes to her sister, she stands like a wall. The same way I do when it’s about my brother.
Here, she’s lethal.
And I’m ready to fall anyway.
“Everyone comes to the Game for a fantasy,” I counter.
“Maybe the first time,” she says softly. “But tonight…I came for you.”
That hits somewhere I don’t usually let anyone touch.
“Is that so?” I ask—dropping my game voice entirely.
Her body goes still.
She pushes up onto her elbow, staring down at me where I lie back against the cushions.
“My God…” she breathes. “It’s you…”
I reach up and tug the ribbon at the back of her head. The knot loosens. Her mask slips forward and falls away.
The beautiful face of Helena Mercer stares back at me.
I untie my own bow and let Red Fox slide down. The mask rests on the cushion beside us before I remove it completely.
“It’s me, Helena.”
Her lips part.
“Liam…” Finally she says my name.
I study her face without anything between us.
“Is this the fox you’ve been waiting for?”
Her fingers brush my jaw. “How?” she whispers.
“I decided to.”
Her eyes sharpen. “The fox hint at Skyward—you did that on purpose?”
A smile pulls at my mouth, remembering that conversation about predators and prey. “Maybe.”
She exhales a stunned laugh and shakes her head. “My God, Liam.”
Oh, her face! Half outrage, half awe.
She pokes my shoulder. “You’re lucky you’re the same man.”
I catch her hand. “No. You’re lucky. Imagine having to choose between Dr. Liam Hunt and some other bastard behind a fox mask.”
She growls under her breath, because she knows she couldn’t.
“Tell me,” I press, watching her closely. “If I wasn’t him…who would you have chosen?”
“Neither,” she says. “I don’t entertain complications.”
“Hm.” I drag a finger across her lower lip. “Then I’m definitely the lucky one.”
We kiss again—free, feral that isn’t scripted or planned.
I roll her onto her back and spread her thighs. Towels slide. Cushions topple. One of the glasses tips and rolls somewhere out of reach.
I replace the condom without breaking eye contact.
Our bodies are slick, water long gone, replaced by new sweat. Her chest rises fast. My hands glide over her hips, her stomach, memorizing what I’ve already taken tonight and still want again.
My cock throbs with a hunger that feels less physical and more territorial.
I drive into her.
As deep as she’ll take me.
“Christ…” The word tears out of me.
Without the masks, the anonymity of the game is gone. Dark becomes bright. Bright becomes blinding. I see every flicker of sensation, every tremor of anticipation. It’s too clear. Too intimate.
She contracts around me when I push in again, her muscles clamping down. I grip her thighs, and enter her hard, wanting her to come. Now.
Whatever resistance she once held is gone. The release takes her in a rush. She arches beneath me, her fingers digging into my back as my name spills from her lips like it’s the only word she knows.
Not Fox.
My name.
“Liam…”
I lose it with her, hips driving forward as release rips through me. It’s violent and consuming, far from the clean, contained kind I’m used to.
I collapse forward, catching myself before I crush her, my forehead pressed to hers while we both try to breathe again.
There’s something rising in my chest I don’t have a word for. Not love. It can’t be love. I don’t do that. Time has never been generous with me when it comes to romance. I’ve never given it space to grow. This is the closest I’ve ever come.
I move again, slower now, coaxing the last shivers from her with a few thrusts until she melts completely beneath me.
Then I pull out and turn her onto her side, drawing her against me. I spoon her, my arms locking around her waist, my body curved protectively around hers.
She fits.
Too damn well.
We must drift off, because when I stir again the lanterns have burned lower. I move, and she squeezes my hands resting flat against her stomach.
“Stay?” she whispers.
There’s no seduction in it. No challenge. Just a request.
“What else do you need from me, Hellion?” I ask, though my voice has lost its edge.
She turns her head, enough that I feel her breath against my arm.
“Just you, Liam Hunt.”
I had planned an explosive end to tonight. A final reveal on my terms. But I never accounted for this kind of explosion. The quiet one.
I press a kiss to her forehead, then I gently withdraw my arms.
“I trust you won’t tell anyone,” I say.
“You have my word.”
I kiss her once more—slow, lingering—and then I rise.
My steps feel heavy, but I hide my reluctance and get dressed.
At the doorway, I glance back. “A car will take you home.”
And I leave before I change my mind.