22. Amy
Amy
Liam's teasing is driving me to a level of frustrated arousal that has me one fucking step away from ripping his pants off.
It's then that I pause and wonder, why don't I do that anyway ?
What am I waiting for? It isn't like I need Liam to make that move. I can do it, too. Especially when he refuses to give me the full length of his finger, just playing at the sensitive entry as I rock and moan.
When I slap at his arms, he stops immediately, raising them up. My body's cold without his hands on me, but I slither off the chair with my tongue between my teeth, reaching for the buckle of his pants.
Liam's breathing grows shallow as I fumble for a second until I realize his button is the kind that clips together. Easy.
His cock—
"Amy." That voice of his sends shudders down my spine, down my arms, down my everything. His hands reach for me and I bat them away.
"Shut up. I'm trying to admire this."
His cock is—
"Amy."
Oh, my God.
"I said, shut up." Reaching my hand toward him, I enjoy the soft, velvety—
" Amy. " He's reaching for me again, and this time he's not listening to my smacks.
"Oh. My. God. What?" Exasperated, I glance up, only to see Liam's not looking at me. His eyes are somewhere behind me.
On the ground.
Where a familiar rattle enters my ears and wakes me up from the sexual haze I'm in.
Liam's hands grip my waist as he leans forward, lifting me into his arms with deliberate, controlled movements.
My mind reels. And how the hell are his pants still on? I unbuckled that.
Magic. Fucking magic.
"Stay still," he warns, voice low and tense.
I cling to his neck as he walks us backward, away from the chair, away from whatever spooked him. His muscles flex beneath me, each step measured. Deliberate. The heat of his body seeps into mine, stoking the embers of my frustration into a burning ache.
After several long strides, he stops, still holding me aloft. I shift in his grip, trying to meet his gaze. "Was there a snake back there?" I try to inject a little levity into the situation, not sure I want to hear the answer. "Or am I so bad at blow jobs that you had to stop me before I could even try?"
Liam's brow furrows, his eyes darting back to the chair. His silence is the only confirmation I need.
"I was on my knees with a nope rope right behind me." Jesus Christ. Embarrassment floods through me. My arousal was already doused like being dunked into an icy pool, but I notice he's still standing at attention. Hah. Crazy. Maybe it takes a while for it to go down. Or maybe even looming death isn't enough to douse his fire. "I was too busy staring at your dick to notice a fucking snake."
A choked sound escapes him, halfway between a laugh and a groan. "It was a rattlesnake. I heard it right before you..." He trails off, gaze flicking down to my lips.
I bury my burning face against his neck. "Jesus. I can't believe I almost got us killed because I tried to put your dick in my mouth."
"Hey." Liam's voice is soft murmur, soothing all the freaked out jitters. I hate snakes. Hate them.
He shifts me in his arms, one hand coming up to cup my cheek. "It isn't like you did anything wrong. And I'm pretty fucking pissed that one little snake got between me and what I wanted." His thumb strokes my jaw, tilting my head back to meet his eyes. "What I still want."
I snort. "You should put it back in your pants, because my lips aren't going anywhere near that. It'll be at least a year before I recover from this."
Spoiler: It doesn't take a year.
It takes about ten minutes and an empty elevator that fails while we're the only ones in it.
"We're stuck, aren't we?" I push all the buttons, including the emergency one, once I'm back on my feet.
Liam doesn't seem panicked at all. He stands in the corner, arms crossed, looking around the ceiling.
The speaker crackles to life, startling me. Liam leans over me to speak into it.
"Hello, this is Liam Taylor. We're stuck in elevator 3. The elevator stopped moving between floors 5 and 6." His voice is calm, authoritative.
"Mr. Taylor, we apologize for the inconvenience. Our team is aware of the issue and working to resolve it as quickly as possible. The elevator should be moving again within the next 30 minutes." The disembodied voice pauses. "How many individuals are on board with you?"
Liam's brow furrows. "It's just the two of us. Can't you see us on the camera?"
An awkward throat clear. "Ah, it appears our camera feed is down at the moment as well. But not to worry, we'll have you out of there shortly."
Liam meets my gaze, a glimmer of mischief in those blue depths. My heart stutters. Surely he's not thinking...
"Thank you. We aren't in a hurry."
Yep, he's thinking that.
When the speaker's crackling disappears, he stalks toward me, a panther eyeing his prey. "Whatever shall we do?"
I back up until I hit the wall, pulse racing. All thoughts of nope ropes and danger noodles are gone. "I can't think of a single thing."
Lie, lie, lie.
And he knows it, because his hands are at already his waist with me on my knees.
His chuckle sends shivers down my spine. "I had something slightly different in mind."
I roll my eyes, already tugging at his zipper. "Deal with it."
Liam's fingers thread through my hair as I free him. He's thick and hard, with more girth than should be legal, straining toward me like he's begging for my mouth. I wrap my fingers around the base, glancing up at him through my lashes.
Or at least some variation of that. I've read the term in romance novels, and I'm not sure exactly how to pull it off. Still, it seems to work, because his eyes go dark.
His jaw clenches.
I stroke him slowly, reveling in the way his eyes flutter shut. "What's the matter, Liam? Afraid you'll make too much noise?"
A soft groan escapes him when I swirl my tongue around the tip.
I press my tongue against the crown, feeling a little awkward as I lick. It's thick enough that I should be thinking twice about trying to get him in my mouth—but the way his thighs ripple, the way his hands clench in my hair, and those guttural sounds he makes?
Yeah.
I'm not giving up this moment.
It's my turn.
Slipping him between my lips, I breathe through my nose, reminding myself that I'm not going to choke.
I can do this.
I take him deeper, inch by inch, reaching beneath to cup his balls.
His dick jerks in my mouth, and a soft chuckle in my throat causes him to shove forward, holding my head in place.
"Shit. Sorry, angel."
I can't shake my head or tell him it's fine, so I keep going until he hits the back of my throat. Liam's hips jerk forward involuntarily.
Seeing him under my control is amazing. I have to be dripping all over the elevator floor, because damn .
This is hotter than I thought it would be.
Never thought I'd be giving a blowjob in an elevator.
"Fuck..." His control is on a hair trigger.
I hum around him, and he twitches in my mouth. His fingers tighten in my hair again as I move, bobbing my head and taking him as deep as I can. The wet sounds of my mouth on him fill the enclosed space.
"Just like that, angel. Your mouth feels so good." His praise washes over me, spurring me on.
I pick up the pace, using my hand to stroke what I can't fit. Liam's breaths turn ragged, his thighs tensing under my other hand. "Tap my thigh twice if you need me to stop. Tap once if you understand me right now."
I tap once.
All hell breaks loose then, as he grabs the back of my head and thrusts.
I'm gagging, but he doesn't stop. My hands clench around his thighs, but I don't tap.
Our gazes meet, even through the tears pooling in mine. I can feel them streaming down my cheeks, hot and wet, as I open my throat as much as I'm able, letting him slam in deeper.
"Fuck. You're so good, angel. So fucking good. Your mouth is heaven on this earth."
His grunts are as obscene as the sloppy sound of his thrusts, and I'm here for every fucking second of it.
I can tell he's close, and yet he tugs my hair and pulls out of my mouth in a smooth motion that leaves me confused.
At least until he yanks me up and spins us both around, shoving me against the cool wall. Using the bar to steady myself as he yanks my hips back toward him, I squeal when he yanks my panties so hard that they tear off.
I'm going to have marks later, but that?
That's hot.
That's a memory that's going to live in my head forever.
He yanks my hips further back, and I widen my stance, arching my back so my ass pops out, hoping it looks sexy and not awkward.
The soft swearing tells me I've succeeded, and he grabs my ass, spreading my cheeks apart as I feel something hot and warm slide between my thighs.
"Do you want my cock, angel?"
"Yes."
"How bad do you want it?"
I huff a little, wiggling my hips just a bit. He's always teasing, and I want him inside.
Right now.
Sinking all the way in until he hits that place inside that's half pain and half pleasure.
"Angel, you're not answering. That's not being a good girl, is it? Good girls play along."
"So bad," I bite out, as his cock rubs over my clit in another one of his teasing strokes. "Just get the fuck inside already."
"Such a naughty mouth. Did I not fuck it clean?"
"Nope." I grin, even though he can't see me. "I don't think that's possible."
The head of his cock presses against my entrance, but he slaps my ass when I try to shove backward. "No."
"Liam—"
Slap.
It doesn't hurt. The impact sends fiery pleasure everywhere in a warm little explosion.
" Liam ," I whine.
He slaps my ass again, the sound loud as it bounces off the metal walls of our little sex cubicle.
I'll never look at elevators the same way again.
"I'm going in slow, angel. I don't want you to tear. I want to use your pussy again later."
Later?
My vagina clenches at the promise, and he groans, pushing in a little. The stretch is such a euphoric burn, and I try shoving back again.
This time, he grabs my hair and slams home, and fuck, it hurts . So. Good.
"Shit," he mutters, and I laugh.
"I told you to get inside."
"You're probably ripped apart."
"Worth it." I wiggle against him, and he pulls out slowly with a grunt, until only the tip of him is left inside.
I'm empty and I hate it.
"More, Liam."
"Such a greedy fucking angel." His next thrust is slow and measured, and he pulls my head back by my hair. "Just shut up for once, Amy. Let me enjoy this. Let me enjoy you."
Me? Shut up?
Clearly the man doesn't know me.
"No." I use my arms to shove my entire body back into his with such force that he grunts, letting go of my hair to grab at my hips and stabilize us both. "Fuck me like you mean it, Liam. You've been teasing me all night. Fuck me like the world's watching."
His fingers are going to leave bruises, but there's no pain to be had. Only pleasure.
Maybe I'll feel it afterward. Who knows.
Right now, I don't care.
"So naughty," he murmurs, rolling his pelvis against me.
"Hurry the fuck up, Liam."
His laughter makes me smile until he's fucking me with such frenzy that I can't really stay on my feet. The stabilizing bar is the only thing keeping me up, and I have a fucking death grip on that thing as he sets a brutally paced rhythm I'm not even sure is humanly possible to keep up.
But he does.
He's panting and whispering dark things about my pussy and how it's gripping him like the a wet fucking glove, and somehow that's all just sensual music to my ears.
One of his hands roams across my body with desperate abandon, pinching and twisting at my nipples, massaging the soft flab of my tummy, occasionally dipping down to rub and tease at my clit.
All of it's good. All of it's great. All of it's fucking amazing , except how he won't settle for any one thing so I can come .
"Liam." I'm whining. I know I'm whining. I'm begging at this point.
"What is it, angel?" His panting is heavier. He has to be exhausted. I'm exhausted, and all I'm doing is trying to stay on my fucking toes as he slams his cock home, over and over again.
"Stop teasing."
"You think this, " and he slams harder, "is teasing?"
"Your hand—"
"What about it, angel? Use your words. Tell me what you want."
"Rub my clit, please."
His hand appears there as if by magic, rubbing hard, nearly grinding down.
My hips have a mind of their own as they buck against the pleasure, and he curses.
"Fuck. Come on my cock, angel. Make me filthy. I want stains on my pants so when these doors open, everyone knows every fucking thing we've been up to in here."
Shit.
When his fingers pinch my clit, I come with a scream, almost in tears from the force of the pleasure, His answering groan is lost in the noise I'm making, and I can feel the gushing between my thighs. It's mostly me, and some of him, and it's all sexy. All of it.
I can feel it all trailing down my legs, but there's nothing I can do. I have no underwear. Nothing to contain this mess we've made.
And what does Liam do?
He slides out and pulls my legs further open, kneeling so he can watch it drip.
"What the fuck are you doing?"
"Looking at your pussy, Amy. What else do you think I'm doing?"
He's so nonchalant that I'm flustered. "Why?"
"You're torn, angel. I need to see how bad it is." His fingers scoop out a bit of the mess, and his heart sounds broken when he says, "There's a little cut here. Does it hurt?"
It does. A lot, now that all the sexy shit is over.
"A little."
"Oh, baby. I wanted to go slow so you didn't get hurt."
The kiss he presses against my vagina is…
Well, I don't know.
It's kind of sweet.
And a little weird.
But, I'm coming to realize that I'm a little weird, too. I came all over his fingers with strangers watching. I wanted them to watch.
And now I'm enjoying the thought of our rescuers knowing we were up to the most debauched shit in here. The thought of them trying to get the camera feed working. Of dreaming about it when they get home, and touching themselves to the things we've done.
Yeah. I'm definitely weird. I guess kissing-my-vagina-booboo isn't that odd, in the grand scheme of things I'm now accepting as part of my life.
Liam tugs my skirt down and turns me over, making sure my breasts are tucked in with a kiss for each one. Then a kiss for my mouth.
"Thank you for letting me in here," he murmurs against my lips.
"You're welcome. I have dick breath."
"As long as it's my dick, I couldn't give a shit, angel."
He kisses me again, a soft, warm press of his lips, before he gets himself together.
And yeah. There's a lot of wetness all over the front of his jeans.
He looks down with a sigh. "I was hoping there'd be more."
"More?" I'm past the bizarre behavior that belongs to Liam Taylor. "That isn't enough? That's a huge splotch right there of… goop."
"I think the proper term is love juices ."
"Love jui—no. It's goop." I have to laugh at the offended stare he gives me before picking up my torn underwear and sliding them into his pocket.
Yep, that's hot too.
Fuck, everything he does is sexy to me. He could probably murder someone and I'd have sex with them over the corpse.
Okay, no. That went a little dark, even for me.
Ew. Shit. Now I can't stop thinking about it.
"Amy? What's wrong?" He sounds concerned, but how the fuck am I supposed to explain what I was imagining?
"Nothing. I just—yeah. Nope. Nothing. Not going there. Distract me before I keep thinking of dead bodies."
" Dead bodies ? Christ, and I thought I was weird."
I hold up my hand. "Excuse me. If we're trying to do a scale of who's weirder, you win by a landslide."
"I beg to differ, madam."
"You beg to differ?" I raise an eyebrow at him, crossing my arms over my chest. "I'd like to see you prove it."
His grin turns wicked, those blue eyes sparkling with mischief. "Is that a challenge, angel?"
I tilt my head, pretending to consider it. "Maybe. But I don't think you're up for it."
He stalks closer, crowding me against the wall. His hands plant on either side of my head, caging me in. "Oh, I'm up for anything when it comes to you."
My heart races, desire already curling low in my belly again. How does he do this to me? "Prove it then."
Liam leans in, his lips a hair's breadth from mine. "I intend to. Over and over again until you're screaming my name."
Fuck. I clench my thighs together, trying to ignore the throb between my legs. I can pretend it's from the ache of a beautiful pounding, but it's not. I want round two. "Pretty sure I already did that."
"And I'll make sure you do it again. And again. Until you forget your own name." His voice is a low rumble, full of dark promise.
I can't keep eye contact. I'm a badass bitch, but I'm putty in his hands. "I don't think that's possible."
"Angel, when I'm done with you, you won't remember anything except how I make you feel."
Fuck.
I believe him, too.
The elevator suddenly lurches, the lights flickering. Liam's hands shoot out to steady me as we begin moving again.
"Looks like our time is up," he murmurs, straightening his shirt and running a hand through his tousled hair.
Does it smell like sex in here?
It does.
The elevator dings and the doors slide open. Three men in uniforms stand there, eyes widening slightly as they take us in. I can only imagine what we look like—flushed, disheveled, the scent of sex still lingering.
Liam steps forward smoothly, as if nothing is amiss. "Gentlemen, thank you for your quick response and hard work getting us out of there." His voice is calm, collected. The perfect image of professionalism.
Meanwhile, I'm acutely aware of my missing underwear. The wetness between my thighs. The fact that everyone here knows what we were up to.
The workers shuffle their feet, glancing between us. One clears his throat. "We apologize for the inconvenience, folks. Elevator's all fixed now, though."
Liam's hand rests possessively on my lower back. "It was no inconvenience at all, gentlemen." His voice drips with insinuation.
I duck my head. Nope, I'm not shameless enough for this. I have no idea how he does it.
One worker coughs to cover a chuckle, lips twitching. He turns away, shoulders shaking with the mirth he's desperate to contain.
Liam, the smug bastard, just smirks. His fingers drum against my spine, a reminder of what those hands are capable of.
The hotel manager hurries over, his face etched with a mix of apology and curiosity as he takes in our appearances. "Mr. Taylor, Miss Sloane. I'm terribly sorry for the inconvenience. I hope you're alright."
Liam gives him a smooth smile. "No need to apologize. In fact, I'd say your elevator service is top-notch. Highly recommended."
I nearly choke on a laugh, covering it with a cough. The manager blinks, clearly taken aback. "I... I'm glad you feel that way, sir."
"Oh, I definitely do." Liam winks at me, his eyes dancing with amusement.
The manager stares at us, looking like he's not sure what to make of the situation. "Right. Well. Is there anything else I can assist you with?"
"No, I think we're good here." Liam nods at him, already steering me towards the elevators again. "Have a wonderful evening."
He winks at the workers, and one of them winks back.
It must be some kind of elevator boys' club. The wink-wink-I-had-sex-here-too club.
It must be.
"You... You too, sir." The poor man sounds completely baffled.
As the doors close behind us, I collapse against Liam's chest, my body shaking with laughter. "I can't believe you said that."
"What? It's true. I had a very enjoyable time in this elevator." He grins down at me, entirely too pleased with himself.
I smack his chest lightly. "You're incorrigible."
"You like it." He dips his head, nipping at my jaw.
I shiver, tilting my head to give him better access. "Mmm. Maybe."
"Definitely." He presses a kiss to my racing pulse. "Want to see how many more surfaces we can christen in your room?"
"I thought you'd never ask."
Liam chuckles darkly, his hands sliding down to grip my hips. "Oh, angel. We're just getting started."