CHAPTER 2 #2
With a strength that surprises even me, I yank my arm back, clench my fist, and drive it straight into his jaw.
His head snaps violently to the side, blood and spit spray through the air as he's thrown off balance, crashing onto the floor with a pained grunt.
The music never fades, no one see—or hear—him hitting the floor.
I grab my bag and head straight toward Jules and Charlie, still lost and dancing.
“A bastard thought he could take whatever he wanted,” I tell them over the music. “I'm going home.”
Charlie and Jules look me over, their expressions shifting from joy to disgust, then anger.
Before either of them can argue, I raise a hand.
“Stay. Have fun.” I force a small smile. “Just text me when you get home safe.”
I leave before either of them can talk me out of it.
I should stay, I should force myself to forget about it.
But if I do, I'll probably smash a chair over that bastard's head and get myself banned from this place.
I don't want that, not for me and not for my girls.
The cab ride home is a blur of holographic lights streaking past the windows.
My breathing is uneven, adrenaline still boiling beneath my skin while the alcohol only makes it worse.
I can't calm down.
I wire the credits for the ride, step into the elevator and finally reach my loft’s door.
I press my trembling palm against the digital pad, a soft beep echoes and the door slides open with a soft hiss.
Darkness greets me.
I step inside, swaying faintly, kick off my shoes and ready to go to bed but then the bathroom door opens.
Liam walks out of the bathroom, fresh from the shower, water still beading over his lean, toned frame.
Droplets trail down his skin before disappearing beneath the towel hanging low on his hips.
His silver-white hair is slicked back, though a few damp strands have fallen loose around his face.
“Hey, babe. You're home.” Liam smiles as he walks over to me. “How was your night? Did you have fun with Jules and Charlie?”
“Yeah.” I answer, harsher than I mean to.
“You've been drinking?” he asks softly, taking hold of my upper arm.
His fingers dig into my skin, a sharp contrast to the gentleness of his voice.
“Come on,” he murmurs. “Let's get you cleaned up.”
I hiss softly, before following him.
Inside, he kneels in front of me, slips off my boots, then unfastens the belts around my waist before peeling off my bodysuit.
“Better, isn’t it?” he asks quietly.
I simply nod, pull off the tie in my hair and step beneath the shower stream.
Hot water rushes over my skin, washing away alcohol, sweat and the man hands on my waist.
He never really likes it when I go out, he's always worried some guy will come after me.
He thinks I don't know how to fight, he thinks I'm someone who needs a hero to save her.
At least, that's how it feels.
Then again, I've never told him anything about my past, he comes from a wealthy family and having someone like me in his life would only bring trouble.
My past, my temper, since I met him, it's dulled.
Not gone, just… quieter.
It's better this way, he's safe and I’m safe with him.
The shower door slides open before closing again behind him. Still wrapped in his towel, he steps close enough for his warmth to press against my back.
One of his hands glides slowly from my shoulder down my arm until he reaches my hand. He lifts it carefully, examining my bruised knuckles.
“Riv.” he says quietly, his tone surprisingly devoid of warmth. “What is that?”
“Nothing, don’t worry.” My voice comes out calm despite everything.
“Babe...” His voice drops lower. “You can tell me, I’m here, did you fall? Did you fight?”
He lifts my hand and presses a kiss against my bruised knuckles.
“I fell. Don't worry, okay?” I turn to face him slowly.
I can't break his heart, I've always been myself with him.
Just quieter, keeping a few parts of me hidden—the kind that would make him look at me differently.
“Mh.” He hums softly. “Okay, if you say so.”
His hands slide up to cup my cheeks before he kisses me. I kiss him back, wrapping my arms around his neck.
His lips are warm and wet from the shower, it’s feels good.
A low sound rumbles in Liam’s throat in approval as his hands move on my body.
His arms wrapping around my wet, slick body, pulling my flush against his beneath the falling water.
He slides one of his hands down to the edge of the now-damp towel and yank it off.
His cock is already hard and slaps softly against my stomach, making me gasp into his mouth as he deepens the kiss.
He breaks the kiss to trail his lips along my jaw, down my neck where I tilt my head on the side to give him better access, between the valley of my breasts.
“Fuck,” Liam says quietly, with barely restrained control. “Riven, you’re so beautiful. You’re all mine, my perfect, sexy girlfriend.” he whispers.
The words of worship and possession makes my breath hitches.
I hook my leg around his hips, pulling him closer.
Liam braces himself against the wet tile beside my head, the other hand sliding down to grip my thigh, holding me in place.
The water pours over us, plastering his white-silver hair to his forehead, running in rivulets down his cheekbones.
He leans in, capturing my mouth again in a slow, deep kiss. Liam’s hips press against mine, the hard length of his arousal a clear, insistent promise.
I moan softly against his lips, my hips jerking and rolling against his in response.
“Tell me what you want, Riven,” he murmurs against my lips, his voice a low, husky rasp beneath the shower’s spray. “Here. Now.”
I don’t answer with words.
I just kiss him again, Liam groans into the kiss and gently brushes his fingers against my inner thighs, the featherlight touch making my skin shiver and my lips part with a soft little gasp.
His fingers finally reach between my legs.
Liam’s fingers part me, finding my clit, circling it with pressure that is firm but gentle.
His other hand grips my hip, holding me steady as he kisses me deeply, his tongue tangling with mine.
The pressure on my clit makes me moan softly against his lips.
“Like that?” he murmurs against my lips, his voice rough.
“More...” I say, breathless.
The plea is a broken gasp against his mouth, raw and urgent.
My hips buck against his hand, shamelessly grinding, seeking more.
My head falls back against the tile with a soft thud.
Liam didn’t hesitate.
He drives his fingers inside, deeper, in and out.
My eyelids flutters, my breath hitches.
“That’s it.” Liam encourages, his own voice strained.
The water is pounding down on us, mixing with the sounds of our ragged breathing and my soft moans.
Then he withdraws his fingers, using his grip on my thigh to hoist me higher against the tile.
He positions himself, the head of his cock pressing against my entrance, slick with water and my own arousal.
He pushes forward, slowly, so slowly.
Just thrust into me, why do you have to be so damn slow? I want it to be more... More exciting.
Is that so bad?
Liam groans, his head falling forward to rest against my shoulder.
“Liam…” I say softly “You can…” I trail off.
How am I supposed to say that?
The hot water making the slide impossibly smooth as he buries himself to the hilt.
I gasp softly.
“Liam, you—”
Liam starts to move, cutting me off.
His thrusts are slow and deep, a gentle, rocking motion.
Liam kisses me, soft and deep, his hands cradling my face, his thumbs stroking my cheeks.
I moan into his mouth, a soft, continuous sound of pleasure that vibrates against his lips.
It feels good, of course, but it’s always the same, soft, gentle and slow.
My arms wrap around his neck, holding him close.
His thrusts remain gentle but grow slightly more insistent, his hips rolling in a smooth, deep cadence.
“Riven,” he gasps, his voice tight. “You feel too good.”
The tile is cool against my back, rubbing against my skin with each of his gentle thrusts.
I moan softly against his mouth.
Liam’s control snaps, with a raw, guttural shout, he buries himself deep inside me one last time as his orgasm rips through him.
His body goes rigid as his orgasm hits, and just like that, he stops moving, just shuddering violently against mine. He holds me tight, his face buried in my neck, as wave after wave rack him.
I breathe heavily.
He came. I didn’t.
Slowly, carefully, Liam pulls out, his arms still wrapped around me as my legs buckle slightly.
“Riven,” He says low, his voice not even above a whisper. “That was... God it was incredible.”
“Yes,” I pause “Yes it was.”
We finish showering, and I pull on an oversized black hoodie before climbing the stairs to my bedroom mezzanine and collapsing onto the bed.
Liam follows, wrapping an arm around me and tucking me beneath his chin.
His breathing evens out within minutes but mine doesn't, I lie awake, staring into the darkness.
I've been with Liam for two years, I can feel his warmth, his love, the safety he gives me.
It's everything I always wanted.
So why does it all feel plain?
Am I the problem? Maybe I am, everything is good, everything is safe.
I can't ruin this, and I won't.