Chapter 9
T he city slumbers in the velvet clutches of night as I slip into Liam's apartment, the lock clicking softly behind me—a whisper of my illicit presence. The air is thick with the scent of musk and something indefinably masculine that always seems to cling to his space. My eyes have barely adjusted to the dimness when muscular arms encircle my waist from behind, and his breath ghosts hot against my neck.
"Missed me, Sloane?" His voice is a low rumble that sends shivers cascading down my spine.
"Always," I confess, turning in his embrace to face him. Our lips crash together with a desperation born of too many days apart. All thoughts, all worries, they evaporate like mist under the blazing sun of our touch. Clothes are shed without ceremony, discarded on the floor in crumpled heaps as we move, guided by the magnetic pull between us.
His hands roam over me, mapping the terrain of my skin with a possessiveness that stokes the fire within. The world narrows to the sensations he evokes—the press of his body against mine, the brush of his lips across my collarbone.
Suddenly I’m airborne, weightless, as Liam lifts me into his arms and purposefully strides to his bedroom. Once there, he sits me on the edge, leaning forward against me so I have no choice but to lie back, and he kisses me deeply. I moan and arch my body against his as he slides his hands down my waist to my hips before pushing my legs wide and holding my thighs in place.
I can’t help but whine and twist as he moves down my body with licks and nips, knowing exactly where this is headed. His fingers grip my legs more firmly just before he drags his tongue over my center, forcing a gasp from between my clenched teeth. I glance down at him to have his dark eyes centered on me, snaring my gaze before he flicks my clit with his tongue.
Liam sucks on my clit, hard, and my legs push against where he is holding them in place as I arch off the bed.
“Liam.” The whispered word sounds like a threat and plea all in one, and Liam dives right back in, sucking on my needy nub while thrusting two thick fingers into my pussy.
My hips are moving of their own accord now, finding a rhythm that Liam has no problem matching as my need surges higher. Desire snakes through my limbs, hot and demanding, and I’m panting as everything in me coils tight, ready to spring .
Liam shifts his head to the side and nips my thigh, the pain weaving with pleasure into a symphony that has my legs clamping down around Liam as the waves of the orgasm take over me.
I’m still riding the waves as Liam leans over my body, pulling my legs towards my chest as he notches himself at my core. Still lost in the haze of afterglow, I catch Liam’s feral gaze as he watches where he guides himself ever so slowly into me. Liam places one hand near my head to keep himself from crushing me as the other snakes between us to stroke my clit. The sensation has me arching against him, my nerves alight from my orgasm. He slowly thrusts in and out, shifting his hips in a way that has me moaning and climbing once again, desperate for the release that only he can give me.
“God, Sloane, you feel so good,” Liam gasps as he moves, caught up in his own pleasure as much as I am in mine.
The weight of Liam’s body holds me in place, pinning me to the bed as he pistons in and out of me. I should feel caught, trapped, but instead, I want more. Liam’s fingers circle my clit as he leans down next to my ear, biting it before whispering against my skin, “Are you ready to come all over my cock?”
I arch into Liam, trying to take him deeper, to feel more . He grabs my legs and lifts my hips higher, giving me what I need and pushing me off the cliff straight into my orgasm, with Liam following right behind .
I rest my forehead against his, struggling to catch my breath, unwilling to sever this connection just yet. But reality is an insidious creature, and it creeps in with the awareness of the dawn, coloring the edges of the room with its early light.
I pull back slightly, breathless from the intensity of our kiss, my heart pounding in my chest like a drum. Liam's gaze holds mine, his eyes a tumultuous sea of questions and desires.
"Wrap things up with the Vipers," he murmurs against my lips, his hands finding their way to my waist, gripping me with an urgency that matches the seriousness of his words. "The feds are sniffing around Kingsdale, Sloane. And they're starting to pay closer attention to the O’Neils.”
My stomach tightens at the mention of the feds, a stark reminder of the dangerous line I'm walking. The memory of explosives lighting up the city streets flashes before my eyes—a chaotic dance of fire and destruction that marked the Vipers' last attack. I had been so close, too close, and the scent of smoke and danger still clings to my skin.
"I'm always clean, Liam," I say, holding his gaze fiercely. "You know that."
"Of course," he says, his voice low and reassuring, yet I detect the faintest hint of doubt. It's enough to make me realize that despite our tangled bodies and shared confidences, there remains a gulf between us—one filled with unspoken truths and hidden agendas .
"Good," I breathe out, leaning in to capture his lips once more, sealing away the night's revelations with a kiss that tastes of promise and peril. "Then let's enjoy the time we have left. Before everything changes."
As I surrender to the moment, my mind races with plans and contingencies. There is no room for error, not with the stakes higher than ever. But for now, I allow myself this brief respite in Liam's arms, where danger and desire intertwine in the most intoxicating of ways.
"Liam," I murmur, my voice laced with a gravity that wasn't there moments ago. "There's something I need to tell you."
He pulls back slightly, studying my face with those piercing gray eyes that seem to see straight through to the marrow of my bones. "What is it?"
"An alliance. I'm making one—through marriage." The words feel foreign on my tongue, but they ring with the weight of necessity.
"Marriage?" His voice is sharp, a blade forged in confusion and something darker, something akin to betrayal.
"Yes. After everything with Victor's men, with the other gangs circling like vultures, they're seeing weakness where there should be none. This alliance...it's with Maria. It will add more men to the O'Neils, strengthen us."
I watch as his jaw clenches, the muscle ticking in silent protest. There's so much I want to say, so much I wish could be different. But in this world we've built on power and survival, sometimes the heart must yield to the head. And right now, my head is telling me this is the only way.
Liam's grip on my arms tightens, the heat of his palms searing through the thin fabric of my robe. His eyes blaze with a fierce intensity that sends shivers down my spine—not from fear, but from the raw, untamed emotion they carry.
"Stop the marriage, Sloane." His voice is a command, roughened by passion and edged with desperation. "You can't do this. You can't bind yourself to someone else when it's me you come to in the dead of night."
I try to steady my breathing, to maintain some semblance of control in the face of his fervor. But it's hard—so damnably hard—when his scent fills my lungs, and the memory of our bodies entwined lingers on my skin.
"Maria's alliance will bring strength to the O'Neils," I say, but my words tremble, betraying my resolve.
"Damn the alliance," he growls, pulling me closer until there’s no space for doubt between us. "It's me you should be with, Sloane. Let's take what we have out of the shadows. Let's show the world that we are united, not just in secret, but in every way that counts. The Calders would be more than happy to join the O’Neils to take out the trash like Victor.”
“But your brother killed my father. And as little as I grieve over that fact, there is still the issue of optics.”
Liam leans in, and his lips graze mine, a whisper of a touch that promises more—more heat, more fire, more of the consuming blaze that we ignite in each other. I close my eyes, feeling the pull of him, the seductive draw of a love that dares to speak its name openly.
"Think about it," Liam breathes against my mouth, and the caress of his words is as persuasive as the touch of his hands. "With me, you don't need an army. I will protect you with my life, with every ounce of blood in my veins."
The air between us crackles with the charge of his vow, and for a moment, I allow myself to believe in the possibility of a world where love is the strongest alliance of all. But then the reality of our precarious existence rushes back in, and I'm torn once again between the demands of my heart and the dictates of survival.
"Your protection...it means everything to me, Liam," I confess, my voice aching with unspoken longing. "But how can I risk the safety of the family on maybes and what-ifs?"
He cups my face, his thumbs tracing the lines of my cheeks with a tenderness that belies the steel in his nature. "Because this," he says, his gaze piercing deep into mine, "this is real. We are real. And I swear, Sloane, if you choose us, I'll make sure you never regret it."
In his eyes, I see the reflection of everything we could be—a force to be reckoned with, a pair forged in the fires of adversity and desire. It's tempting beyond measure, and for a heart-stopping second, I teeter on the edge of decision.
"Give me time to think," I whisper, the plea wrapped in the hope that perhaps, just perhaps, love could be the most powerful weapon we wield.